Gospel Story Finder

Brother Renzo Molly Barrios Matias, of Guatemala, learned the power of using scripture study to receive personal revelation for his own life.

“After Hurricane Mitch passed through Central America in 2001 and left everything in desolation, I had many questions,” he says. “Seeking answers, I went to a friend I greatly respect. He said, ‘Read the scriptures. You will find the best answers to your questions in them.’

“This revolutionized my life,” says Brother Matias. “After studying the scriptures for quite a long time, I began to find answers to my questions. I was able to see that my life did have meaning. It was then that I decided to serve a full-time mission.”

Soon Elder Matias was serving in the Honduras Tegucigalpa Mission, helping others discover the power of scripture study.

The curtain opens and the pageant begins: Entering stage left is David Paulsen, who plays Joseph at 14. He speaks: “Why all this confusion? Which church is right?” He seeks for the answer from his parents and from preachers of all faiths. Then he goes to the Sacred Grove to pray.
“I think the most spiritual part in the whole pageant to me is when I’m in the grove,” David said. “I just get tingles up and down my spine because I know what I’m saying is true. It’s one of the neatest experiences I’ve ever had. It’s helped me make up my mind to want to go on a mission and then get married in the temple.”

On 27 June 1854, Rosa Clara had her first baby, a little girl, named Annie Augusta after President Farnham. When little Annie Augusta was fourteen months old, the family sailed from Sydney with a company of Saints on the Julia Ann, bound for California. Disaster struck four weeks later.
On the evening of 3 October 1855, Rosa Clara put her baby to bed while some of the pioneering Church members sang hymns on the deck. Suddenly the vessel struck a coral reef. For a little while, confusion reigned. Then, one of the ship’s crew swam to the reef and managed to fasten a rope. With a sling, the captain prepared to ferry the women and children one at a time to the reef.
No one knew what lay ahead in the pitch-black night. The women were afraid. Finally Rosa Clara, not yet eighteen, volunteered to be the first. Hurriedly, she helped tie baby Ann securely to Charles’s back in a brown woolen shawl and readied herself to be taken to the reef. But then, before Rosa Clara’s horrified eyes, her husband and baby were swept overboard by the huge seas. One of the sailors rescued them unharmed.
With enormous courage, then, in leaving her family on the wreck, Rosa Clara climbed onto the captain’s lap and was pulled, hand over hand, to the reef. Here the captain left her standing barefoot on the sharp coral, chest-deep in the sea, with the surf breaking on the reef. She stayed alone and in darkness while he returned for the other women. Gradually, most of the company, including Charles and baby Ann, arrived safely. But not all were so fortunate. Two little girls were washed off the deck and were lost; two women and a small baby drowned in their cabin.
When daylight arrived, the crew made a raft from timber and nails salvaged from the wreck. They managed to get the passengers from the reef to a small island, which became their home for the next eight weeks.
A barrel of hard biscuits and a chest of tea retrieved from the ship, as well as coconuts, fish, turtle meat, and eggs sustained everyone. They formed coconut shells into drinking vessels. With a large silk skirt also salvaged from the wreck, Charles Loge fashioned a tent for Rosa Clara, who was ill, and baby Ann crawled around playing happily in the sand. After repairing the ship’s boat, some of the crew rowed more than 300 kilometers to the Society islands (Tahiti) for help.
The Loge family and others were taken off the island two months after the wreck, finally arriving in San Francisco. There, Elder George Q. Cannon presented Rosa Clara with a small pewter teapot in recognition of her bravery in being the first to go to the reef. The teapot is a treasured family heirloom today, together with a carved coconut-shell drinking vessel and a handmade nail from the Julia Ann.

I had an experience as a young man in which I felt a distinct “enticement” to change. This experience helped me understand the difference between who I thought I was and who I really am in God’s eyes.

During a temple recommend interview prior to my mission, the bishop asked, “Are you honest in your dealings with your fellowman?”

I paused for a moment, evaluated my honesty from my point of view, and thoughtfully responded, “Yes.”

I went to the temple and then to Germany to share the gospel of Jesus Christ with others. As I studied the scriptures, taught the gospel, and served God, the influence of the Holy Ghost increased in my life. My thoughts and attitudes began to change. I had an increased understanding of God’s expectations of me. As Preach My Gospel describes, I began “forming a fresh view of God, [myself], and the world” (PMG, 2004, 62).

One evening my companion and I were teaching a lesson on honesty, and an experience came to my mind that had occurred before my mission. As a sixteen-year-old, I had fixed up an old ’46 Chevy truck to drive to school and work, but it was an ongoing challenge to keep it running.

One day, when a friend and I were driving along a country road, we noticed a truck similar to mine discarded in a field next to some old equipment. The old truck was partially dismantled and rusting away, but it had a part that was missing on my truck. Since the truck in the field appeared to be abandoned, I rationalized that surely no one would miss the part. My friend encouraged me, and we removed the part from the abandoned truck and put it on my truck. I justified my action by reasoning that the owner didn’t really need the part and I did.

In the mission field, I was teaching investigators that stealing is taking something that does not belong to you. My experience of taking that once-insignificant rusty truck part was brought forcefully back to my memory. Suddenly I was pained by my having taken the part. I knew it was wrong. The Spirit helped me understand that from God’s point of view, I had not been honest. I began repenting and asking God for forgiveness. I realized that to be a true disciple of Jesus Christ, to teach gospel principles, and to testify with power, I must be living those principles. From a cowboy’s perspective, I knew I had to have both feet in the stirrups.

This incident was on my mind for the remaining eighteen months of my mission. When I returned home, it was a great relief to find the owner of that old truck, reimburse him for what I had taken, and complete my repentance. At last I felt clean, and I was filled with joy and peace.

I learned a valuable lesson from that experience. There is only one way to assess our ­honesty, or any other aspect of our conduct, and that is from God’s point of view—not our view, our friends’ view, or the views of people in our ­community, including the online community.

When Saia Paongo served a mission in 1964, he was in charge of six missionaries living on the remote island of Niua Toputapu. Often, they didn’t know where their next meal would come from. On one particular day, they visited and preached in the homes in Falehau while fasting, but then they had no food to break their fast with. As the missionaries walked out of their hut, Elder Paongo felt a distinct impression:
It was as if someone said to me, “Take your missionaries to the beach on the back side of the island.” I told my companion to bring a fishing spear, and we all headed for the rocky coast of Niua Toputapu.
Unfortunately, the ocean was already at full tide when we arrived. There was no way we could do any spear fishing on the reef. Disappointed, we sat down to rest, except for Elder Fonua, who wandered off along the beach.
Suddenly Elder Fonua yelled for us to come and look. We scrambled over to him, and there we saw a wonderful sight: a large, fat menenga, or deep ocean parrot fish, which had almost beached itself. Incredibly, it had swum right up to the sand. Nearly three feet long and a foot thick, it made a wonderful feast for us.
I know that this fish was prepared for us and that Heavenly Father loves hungry young missionaries, even in tiny remote islands.

Now consider if you had looked on FamilySearch for the ancestor you didn’t know and saw some pictures of him. Perhaps he looked very much like your grandfather. Perhaps there was a story that talked of how during one rainy season, there was a big flood in his village. His home washed away, one of his children died in the flood, and his fields were ruined. He didn’t have anything left to support his family, so after praying, he migrated with his family to the city, where he struggled but eventually found work to support and feed his family.

However, collaborating across the organization is not the same thing as giving up programs in which we have invested our expertise and identity. But, here again, I have seen people with great hearts respond beautifully to changes.

For example, a chief source of funding and positions for the new School of Family Life has come from the former department of Clothing and Textiles, which was just formally terminated this year. I can tell you from personal experience with our colleagues in that department that they were, to a person, opposed to the decision we finally made to close the department. They were articulate defenders of the programs they had so lovingly and skillfully developed. However, once the decision was made, they have made great efforts to find new ways to contribute. One faculty member is currently helping the Theatre and Media Arts program, another is in the Chemistry Department, and the rest of the faculty, along with the staff and office support, have gone to the new School of Family Life. This infusion of people and resources into the family work will prove to be invaluable. As I mentioned earlier, the opportunity to align with student, Church, and societal needs brings light and excitement and the opportunity to be a standard to the world. This was not a choice between good work and bad work. This choice, like almost all of our choices, was between two or more good things.

The Church is one of Sue’s greatest sources of guidance and comfort. At youth conference, the bishop challenged all the youth to pray for confirmation that the Church was true even if they already had a testimony.
Sue accepted the challenge although she had some reservations. “I felt I didn’t need to ask because I know the Church is true. But I wanted to tell my friends about my testimony before I graduated. They sometimes tease me about being a Mormon.”
Sue did pray, but the answer didn’t seem to come in a big way. Then she and some friends had to drive to the next town to have their pictures taken for graduation. Suddenly, she was in the middle of an intense conversation about the Church with a receptive friend. The friend asked, “How do you know that it is true, Sue?”
“All of a sudden it dawned on me that Heavenly Father was giving me an opportunity to say that I do know the Church is true. Here I was bearing my testimony, telling her this is the truth. It didn’t hit me until that night that it was the answer to my prayers.
The friend then asked if she could go to church with the Keller family. Soon she was attending seminary with Sue and receiving the discussions from the missionaries. “That’s been the greatest,” Sue said. “I’ve never done that with a friend before.”

Don Dewey, a nonmember, was one of Ken’s friends stationed aboard a sister minesweeper. He wanted to discover the inconsistencies in the Church’s doctrine so that he could point out to Ken the error of his decision to be baptized. So when the three men returned from sea, Don decided to join Willis and Ken at sacrament meeting in Charleston.

But Don never did find the inconsistencies he sought. Instead, after months of intensive study, he also chose to become a member of the Church.

The Whitneys began to see a clearer picture of their eternal identity. Later that year, the Lord revealed to the Prophet Joseph that Newel was to serve as the bishop in Kirtland. Newel said, “I cannot see a Bishop in myself, Brother Joseph; but if you say it’s the Lord’s will, I’ll try.”

Joseph replied, “You need not take my word alone. Go and ask Father for yourself.”

After praying, Newel heard a voice from heaven say, “Thy strength is in me.”

Because her husband was at an early morning priesthood leadership meeting, Mary struggled alone to get her family ready for church. The baby was fussing, little Rebekah could not find one of her shoes, and four-year-old David spilled food down the front of his clean Sunday shirt. Frustrated, Mary felt like giving up and staying at home. Arriving late for church, she was still angry with Rebekah and David, and it was hard for her to feel a spirit of reverence.
Most of us sometimes feel frustrated or impatient. But when we express those feelings by becoming angry with someone, we offend the Spirit. As we try to come unto Christ and perfect ourselves, we should ask ourselves not “What is fair?” but, “What would Jesus have me do?”
Jesus endured great persecution. (See 1 Ne. 19:9.) He even asked forgiveness for those who crucified him. (See Luke 23:34.) Although most of us don’t have to deal with great persecution, we are often “provoked” by small things. Rudeness, disobedience, waiting, disagreements, disappointment, and unfulfilled expectations can irritate us, especially if we are tired, sick, or in a hurry.
At such times, our first feeling may be anger. But we can choose to react with charity instead and not be “easily provoked.” (Moro. 7:45.) We can turn the other cheek (see Matt. 5:38–39) and respond with patience and kindness.
There are things we can to do develop a spirit of charity. We can concentrate on ways to control our anger or impatience. Taking a deep breath and stopping to think for a moment before speaking sometimes helps. Getting in the habit of asking ourselves what Jesus would have us do in the same situation can also help. Prayer and repentance also heal our spirits and fill our hearts with love.
By learning to avoid contention and to control our anger, we stop evil from being passed on to others. We become more like Jesus, whose self-sacrifice made eternal life possible for all who come unto him and follow his example.

Fiorello LaGuardia, an Italian immigrant to the United States, became one of the most respected and influential mayors in the history of New York. Early in his life, while he was a magistrate, a man was convicted of theft in his courtroom. The young judge felt compelled to impose a sentence of imprisonment. But when the man explained that he had stolen food to feed his impoverished family, the judge suspended the sentence and then levied a fine on every person in the courtroom for living in a city where a man had to steal bread to feed his family.

—A key turned, a hatchback rose, and a light went on in the back of a car. Young Women from the Woodstock Ward, Marietta Georgia East Stake, were tromping through the rain to fill the car with the Thanksgiving feast they’d prepared for a mother and four children who recently left a battered women’s center and moved into a small apartment of their own.
“We were going to deliver it on Thanksgiving,” said Brenda Bain. “But we found out they could be hungry right now, so we didn’t want to wait. We’re going to continue helping them through the rest of the year,” she added, as she pushed the car hatch down.

A number of years ago I witnessed a nice example of friends rejoicing in others’ successes and in cheering each other on. I drove a school bus for three years during college. It was a real kick – everything from kindergarten kids as cute as bugs to junior high students you sometimes wanted to squash like bugs! While driving the afternoon route for several weeks I would regularly see the Cedar High School cross-country team working out. I enjoyed running and would clock their speed while trying to stay off the sidewalk. There always was a pack of runners and then one lone runner some distance behind. He ran with a noticeable limp, and I admired his spunk. Sometime later, I received an assignment to drive this group to the regional meet in Utah County. We had a nice trip, and I was impressed with the close-knit nature of the team. The runner with the limp was Geoff, and his impediment stemmed from birth. He fit right in, and the others told him this was his big day. Geoff had finished dead last in every meet to that point, and his friends suggested this meet he would outrun someone – anyone. They built up his confidence.

As runner after runner staggered across the finish, heaving and huffing, there was still no Geoff. Everyone on his team was finished, when they suddenly started to yell and cheer wildly. The reason for their enthusiasm could be seen a quarter-mile away. Geoff was ahead of a couple of runners and was trying to hold them off as they kicked toward the finish line. A teammate sprinted out to meet him and ran along, cheering him on. Others whooped and hollered, and Geoff finished ahead of one or two others to the delight of his teammates in his last race of the season. He beamed as they slapped him on the back and congratulated him for his courage and effort. It was a touching little scene of sacred support that fulfilled Paul’s words: “Ye ought to support the weak … and to remember … it is more blessed to give than to receive.”[17]

A young woman named Brooke writes: “This past summer I had the opportunity of attending a leadership conference. It only took a couple of hours to find out that the LDS kids were in the minority there. I ended up [rooming] with two girls who were very nice but definitely didn’t have the same standards. At night when I read my scriptures they stared at me like I was some kind of weirdo. While they were talking about their drinking parties, I was talking about [parties] with punch and cookies. They laughed but were always curious.

“Although I was scared sometimes, I never failed to stand up for what I believe in. At the end of the conference, one of my roommates [said], ‘I guess Mormons can be cool,’ and that she would think about our religion and maybe even learn about it. I [learned] that I could make a difference by simply standing up for what I believe.”

President Meredith: Note that President Hinckley said, “The memory of Thomas E. Ricks will continue to be appropriately honored and perpetuated.” Thomas E. Ricks was a man of extraordinary resilience and unwavering faith. A pioneer, missionary, and Church leader, he endured great hardship in his youth and was determined in supporting his fellow Saints in the westward migration. But through every trial, he remained firmly committed to building the kingdom of God.

Sister Meredith: In 1883, at the call of President John Taylor, Brother Ricks led a group of Saints north into the Upper Snake River Valley. They came to what would become Rexburg, Idaho, a rugged land with few comforts and many unknowns. And yet, with consecration in their hearts and the Spirit of the Lord as their guide, they built homes, planted farms, and organized branches of the Church.
Just five years later, in 1888, President Ricks founded the Bannock Stake Academy to teach the children and youth of that first local stake. That small school, born of faith and sacrifice, grew into Ricks College, and eventually BYU-Idaho.

Another experience that testifies that faith can move mountains is the experience with our son Nephi his junior season of high school.

In August of 2015, it was the start of another football season for our family. We just sent off our oldest son to college and it was the next son in line to be the focus of high school football. It was the first game of the season and on the third play my son was in man coverage and he broke on the ball and the receiver was in the air. My son lowered his shoulder while the receiver was coming down and when they hit my son fell straight down and couldn’t get up.

Being a football mom anytime something happened to my sons the coaches knew that I was sure to make my way down to the field. I was relieved that my son was able to stand up and walk off the field and knowing my kids no matter how injured they are they always tried to get back into the game. I was glad to see that they took his helmet away. At the time I believe they ruled him out of the game with a concussion. It wasn’t until half time or beginning of third quarter that my son asked if I could go with him into the locker room to take off his jersey. It was then that I noticed that something was not right. He said, “Mom can you help me take off my jersey. I can’t lift my arms.” I quickly helped him take off his jersey and said, “Son, we need to go to the hospital to get you checked.” I then drove him to the hospital and told them what had happened and then they started to run scans and tests on him. My kids know anytime we are at the hospital I am silently saying my prayers and talking to my angels. By this time the game was done and my husband who was an assistant coach at the time joined us at the hospital. The doctor came back and showed us his x-rays of his neck and showed us that he would need to undergo major surgery. With this news I was taken back to the time of our daughter’s incident. I felt peace again knowing we have been here before. I silently said a prayer, saying, “Lord you have worked miracles in our lives before and I know you will work your miracle again.” I remember that was the first time that I didn’t cry. I just had this overwhelming sense of peace that all will be okay. The next morning, he was scheduled for the procedure. Again, grateful for the prayers and faith of those who all were concerned for our son the procedure went well. That Monday after his surgery he was up and walking and showed signs of mobility in hands and legs. But we were in for a long journey to full recovery.

My son had his mind set that he was going to play football again. Every doctor’s appointment he would ask, “Doc, when am I going to be cleared to play?” We all would try our best to help him focus on just fully healing. But, all Nephi was focused on was getting back on the field. Each Friday night game Nephi was there to support the team. But with each loss you can see the sense of disappointment and frustration he had in not being able to help the team. Things got dark for my son and you can see this injury was taking a toll on his spirit. I would always say to my son just as my mother did to me “don’t lose faith.” I remember one of the games he called me to say that he wasn’t going. This was one of those difficult weeks where he was moody. I not wanting to deal with his attitude was content to leave him at home and go to the game myself. But I had an overwhelming feeling to go home and check on him. When I got home and went to his room. I found him laying in the middle of the room with his room flipped upside down. I remember something telling me to just hug him. So, I did and we didn’t say anything and just cried together. All I could say to him was how much I loved him. It was this moment that changed my parenting to, President Monson's quote: “Never let a problem to be solved be more important than a person to be loved.” [2]

The next doctor's appointment, my son brought a piece of paper to show his doctor information about a player in the NFL that broke his neck and was still playing. We could see that he was not going to accept not playing the game again. The next appointment the doctor told Nephi that he made some calls to doctors in the NFL and that they gave 3 things that would clear him to start on the road back to the game. 1) Solid Fusion 2) Range of Motion 3) Cognitive Exam. That was all my son needed to hear. In March 2016—seven months after his incident he was cleared to participate in the Nike Opening in Los Angeles. He was able to participate in the contactless drills. This was the beginning of his road back to playing football again. Many may have thought that my husband and I were crazy to let our son play the sport again. But, to us we were grateful for the light and happiness that we saw in his demeanor. Because it was better than the dark cloud that was trying to consume him. We understood the risk and he understood it, too. We knew this was part of his journey with God and building his own faith. We have watched our son Nephi play his senior year and at the college level. He is now fulfilling his dreams of playing in the NFL. We can honestly say this is the happiest we have seen him. He is currently with the New Orleans Saints and we are forever grateful for the faith he has knowing that Jesus got him no matter what.

During World War II, President James E. Faust, then a young enlisted man in the United States Army, applied for officer candidate school. He appeared before a board of inquiry composed of what he described as “hard-bitten career soldier[s].” After a while their questions turned to matters of religion. The final questions were these:
“In times of war should not the moral code be relaxed? Does not the stress of battle justify men in doing things that they would not do when at home under normal situations?”
President Faust relates:
“I recognized that here was a chance perhaps to make some points and look broad-minded. I knew perfectly well that the men who were asking me this question did not live by the standards that I had been taught. The thought flashed through my mind that perhaps I could say that I had my own beliefs but did not wish to impose them on others. But there seemed to flash before my mind the faces of the many people to whom I had taught the law of chastity as a missionary. In the end I simply said, ‘I do not believe there is a double standard of morality.’
“I left the hearing resigned to the fact that [they] would not like the answers I had given … and would surely score me very low. A few days later when the scores were posted, to my astonishment I had passed. I was in the first group taken for officer’s candidate school! …
“This was one of the critical crossroads of my life.”

As December and the holidays approached, I knew it was going to be difficult. My dad had passed away just four months before, leaving only my mom and me at home. At the same time, I was lucky to be at a stake conference where President Hinckley made a surprise visit. He bore his testimony and expressed his love. He said: “Do you feel gloomy? Lift your eyes. Stand on your feet. Sing songs of Christmas. Be positive.” These few words meant so much to me. I knew if I did my best at this hard time in my life, things would work out. What President Hinckley said did not take away my pain, but it helped me understand that I needed to be happy and help my mom and family be happy.
After the meeting, the congregation stood and sang “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet” (Hymns, no. 19). The strength and spirit of love in that building were incredible. After we left the church, we pulled up to a stoplight and amazingly we were right next to President Hinckley. We were so excited and waved to him. When he waved back, you could feel his love. We hadn’t touched or talked to him, but the love I felt from him was strong and unforgettable.

While I was serving as mission president in Scotland from 1975 to 1978, the Church had much opposition and criticism. On one occasion three ministers made derogatory statements publicly in a particular city. I wrote an open letter to the local newspaper announcing that we would be holding a public meeting there to dispel some of the misunderstandings which were being voiced around. It was a wonderful meeting. We first showed the fine Church filmstrip Meet the Mormons, and then I spoke to the large group concerning our beliefs and way of life. When we opened the meeting for questions, a number of people who were not members of the Church stood and said kind things about the Church and the Latter-day Saints they knew. Positive results ensued, and the work moved forward.