Gospel Story Finder

Some months ago I heard that the wife of a friend was again threatening miscarriage. I hurried, along with others who were concerned about the baby, to make sure that things would be well. While arrangements were still being made, we were told that it was too late. This was the third time she had gone through this painful experience. I asked myself: What can I say to comfort them? How will the Lord help them overcome this new blow?
The day she left the hospital she heard about another sister from her stake who was going through the same experience. Full of trust in the Lord, she went to visit the sister and give her support. She changed her own tragedy into a blessing of comfort for others.

Dario Gonzalez of Montevideo, Uruguay, understands that there are priesthood callings—specific assignments or “jobs” that come from the bishop and other priesthood leaders. Dario is 16 and a priest, and his callings include home teaching with his dad and serving as first assistant in his priests quorum.
But Dario also understands that there is one calling every priesthood bearer has—the call to serve whenever and wherever possible. It’s a call to follow the Savior’s example in every part of life.
Be dependable.
When it comes to specific assignments, Dario is someone you can count on. “He’s a good home teaching companion and shows real concern for our families,” says his dad. “He always helps remind me when it’s time to go.”
It’s the same with his quorum leadership role. Dario may be the only active priest in his branch. But he realizes a quorum leadership calling means more than conducting meetings and making assignments. He not only visits other priests to encourage them, but he works with the deacons and teachers too, visiting the inactive and offering friendship and encouragement.
Then there’s that general calling to serve, the one every priesthood bearer has. That’s why you’ll find Dario working alongside other priesthood bearers—young and old—to help put a roof on a member’s house, or to build a bathroom for one of the widows, or to help a family move into their new home.
That general calling is also why you will find Dario grocery shopping for the nonmember widow down the street. Or taking care of the children in a family while their mother is in the hospital. All this takes time, but, Dario explains, “I feel good; I don’t feel forced into it. I still have time for study and for my friends. Besides, I go with my friends in the priesthood to do many of these things.”
Follow the Savior.
In many ways, Dario is an ordinary guy. He loves soccer, volleyball, and track. Dario is also quite modest, and getting him to talk about his priesthood service is not easy. Ask him what striving to magnify his callings has done for him, and he searches for words. Then he simply says, “I feel closer to Christ by trying to follow his example.”

At school the next afternoon Keith was struggling to keep up with his classmates as they ran around the track. Jason had been a fast runner, and sometimes Keith’s teacher, Mr. Lee, would kid him by saying, “Are you sure you’re a Johnson boy?” Last time Keith had answered with a grin, “I got the brains of the family.”
Now Mr. Lee was yelling at the runners, “Keep going! Two more times!” Then he went in to his office.
“Follow me,” a boy in front of Keith called out as he cut across the middle of the track. Everyone laughed and began to follow him.
“Come on, Keith,” called a girl. “This way we won’t have to run so far.”
Keith thought quickly: That’s not honest. Jason wouldn’t do it, and neither will I. He continued his jog around the track.
When Mr. Lee returned, everyone was finishing the run except Keith, who still had another lap to go. He heard his classmates giggle when Mr. Lee said, “That Johnson boy seems slower than usual today.” Keith didn’t know it, but his teacher had stopped the giggles when he added, “And the rest of you seem to have extra energy, so we’ll do jumping jacks while we wait for him!”
When Keith finally finished, Mr. Lee patted his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Johnson.”
“For being last?” Keith panted.
“No. For being honest. You’re a lot like your brother, after all.”

She loved to play tennis and had a lightning serve. I tried to play tennis with her, but I finally quit after coming to the realization that I couldn’t hit what I couldn’t see.

“Why? I suppose it started back when I was a bishop. I had an interview with a good-looking young man who was to receive the Aaronic Priesthood. He told me a special story. One day after school, he and some of his friends found a package of cigarettes. They lit up, and the young man said as he was looking down at the smoldering cigarette he held between his fingers, he saw his CTR ring. He quickly put the cigarette out and made a very wise choice never ever to do such a thing again. He chose to choose the right, as he remembered what the emblem stood for. From this story I gained a special love for the CTR emblem.”

I watch you, and I notice
the way you stand so tall,
the way you hold your head up high—
you’re not afraid at all!
The scriptures always in your hand—
you stand out from the rest.
And no matter what the weather is,
you’re in your Sunday best.
At Christmastime, you miss your home;
you cling to every letter.
I know you love your family,
but you love the Savior better.
From watching you, when I am big,
I know what I will do. …
I want to serve a mission,
for I love the Savior too!

He helped take care of his family’s sheep. During a spring blizzard one year, he worked to save the baby lambs.

In my case, I denied that I had communication problems until I hit a dark point in my life and realized I needed help addressing some of my behavioral and thinking patterns.
So, after seeking guidance from Heavenly Father, I felt prompted to start meeting with a therapist. We put pieces of the puzzle of my heart together and discovered that the sources of many of my behaviors like masking pain with humor, burying emotions, and struggling to communicate effectively could possibly be traced back to a few generations before mine.
At first, I was scared by what this discovery meant for me. How could I possibly change habits that had been ingrained in me and my family? I even started to fear for my future family. Would I pass my issues on to them?
With these thoughts weighing on my mind, I didn’t think I could muster the effort to face these feelings and change these behavior cycles. But the Lord has counseled us to “be not afraid, only believe” (Mark 5:36).
As I prayed, God showed me that if I had a willing heart, He could change my heart and help me alter the behaviors that were preventing me from having healthy relationships and from growing emotionally and spiritually.
Ultimately, my healing involved the Savior. With Him, I was able to have difficult yet healing conversations with my family members, to take steps forward, to love more deeply and build greater relationships, to take uncomfortable steps forward, to forgive, and to find hope in the future. Believing in what Jesus Christ could do for me was the first step toward inviting His healing balm into my life through temple worship, prayer, and exercising faith.
As I combined these powerful spiritual tools with therapy and self-help books that helped me develop my communication skills, learn to feel and process my emotions, and understand the underlying reasons behind my behaviors, I have been able to see miraculous results of involving the Savior and Heavenly Father in this journey.

Errol Gascon Villaflor, a volunteer assigned in the shoe cover station said, “It was the most humbling thing I’ve done. It reminded me of the time when Jesus Christ washed His apostles’ feet.”

A few years ago, when I was 17, I was depressed and aimless. I wasn’t hanging out with good friends or doing good things. One day my dad told me that he had signed me up to attend a For the Strength of Youth conference in a nearby country. I didn’t want to go, but knowing that he wanted me to, I reluctantly went.
Surprisingly, the spiritual experiences I had at that conference changed my life completely.
At FSY I really saw what it means to be a disciple of Christ—to live differently than the world. All these faithful young people were such a contrast to the negative influences I was usually surrounded by. I felt like I actually saw the light these disciples were carrying. Each day, I felt the Spirit so strongly as I spent time with good people, studied the scriptures, learned more about the gospel, and got to know Heavenly Father and the Savior better.
I realized I needed to change my behaviors and really start to understand what the gospel of Jesus Christ could bring to my life.

My senior year in high school brought a challenge I wasn’t expecting. Shortly after school began, our speech teacher assigned me to participate in debate. We studied, practiced, and competed, and I humbly learned many valuable lessons.
Months later and four weeks before the state speech competition, my teacher casually informed me that he had also just entered my name to compete in extemporaneous speech. He began explaining that on the first day I would be required to deliver at least three different seven-minute speeches in front of a panel of judges.
And there was another catch—the speech topics were randomly assigned contemporary issues, with only 30 minutes to prepare. I was stunned; I had never even witnessed an extemporaneous speech.
Preparing in the remaining weeks, reading as many articles on contemporary issues as I could, I still felt overwhelming self-doubt and anxiety. On the day of the competition, I asked the officials, “I’ve already drawn my topic, but may I go in and listen a couple of moments to someone who’s actually giving his talk?” They replied, “You’ve only got 30 minutes. If you want to spend it listening, that’s up to you.”
That very first time, I went in and listened for a few precious moments. I knew I needed to be alone and pray to my Heavenly Father. I noticed a secluded grove on the university campus next to a pond where I could be alone, on my knees.
I pleaded with Heavenly Father for help. It wasn’t a prayer to win—it was an earnest prayer for the assistance of the Holy Ghost so that I would be able to do something I had never done before and make it through this challenge. I realized I needed God’s help.
Heavenly Father answered my prayer. I remembered what I had studied and was able to connect facts and impressions. With every new topic drawn, I would first leave to pray. Then I would go to work. The next day surprisingly brought me to the final round.
My faith in God was developing into my testimony, and my faith grew stronger as I felt Him near. I thanked Heavenly Father for the help I had received, for after doing all that I could do, He made more of me than I could ever have done myself (see 2 Nephi 25:23).

McKay felt terrible! He had been playing with his bubblegum and gotten it all over his hands. Then, to make matters worse, he had wiped the bubblegum off his hands and onto his bedroom wall. He knew his mother and father would be coming to tuck him into bed any minute, and he was afraid. He didn’t want to get into trouble, so he piled a toy box and some toys on top of each other until they hid the bubblegum mess.
When Mother walked into his bedroom, she said, “McKay, why are your toys stacked up like that?”
He shrugged his shoulders, hoping she wouldn’t figure it out.
Father came in and sat next to McKay on the bed. “Well, shall we read scriptures?” he asked.
“Yes,” McKay said. He loved reading with his parents every night.
Father began to read the story of Jonah and the whale.* McKay closed his eyes and listened. He could understand why Jonah didn’t want to go to the city of Nineveh and teach his enemies about the gospel. That would be a scary and hard thing to do.
McKay’s father read about Jonah running away so that he wouldn’t have to obey God. But God knew where Jonah was no matter where he went. Heavenly Father had to send a whale to swallow Jonah in order to teach him a lesson.
McKay frowned. He thought about Jonah trying to run away and hide from God. McKay remembered the bubblegum mess on the wall. Even though his mother and father couldn’t see it, Heavenly Father could. “Mom, Dad,” McKay said, “I’m hiding something.” He went to the wall and uncovered the mess.
“Yikes!” Mother said. “I’ll get a washcloth and some cleaner.”
Father shook his head. “Why did you try to hide that?” he asked.
“Because I was afraid, and I didn’t want to get into trouble. I’m sorry.”
Mother handed him the washcloth. “Here,” she said. “I’ll spray the cleaner. You scrub.”
After he finished cleaning the wall, McKay knelt with his parents and said a prayer. Then, he climbed into bed. “I’m glad you learned a lesson tonight,” Father said.
McKay smiled and said, “And I didn’t even have to be swallowed by a whale!”
His parents laughed and kissed McKay good night. McKay didn’t feel terrible anymore. In fact, he fell asleep feeling great.

The Instant Message “Visits from Nathan” (Feb. 2008) was special to me personally. I recently left the hospital after being diagnosed with staph meningitis. Though it is different from what Melanie Kenny went through, I knew almost exactly how she felt. I would like to thank her. I would never have survived without the love of those around me and the Church.
Karisa B., Washington

I know a family that is using this opportunity to spend more time together to develop better habits of family scripture study, family home evening, Come Follow Me learning, and to also help their children grow in their own testimonies of the Lord Jesus Christ, His Atonement and the Restoration of the gospel in these latter days. This has helped the family to feel much closer to each other and closer to God. One of the goals they have set is to be able to hear the Lord regularly in their daily lives. They do this by studying the life of the Savior and by watching videos of the Bible and the Book of Mormon every day, which has especially helped one of their daughters get to know Jesus Christ better.

Certainly Sister Sylvia Rosen has learned the power of faithful patience. Sylvia is a young single mother from Utah with four children, one of whom is affected by a severe developmental disorder resembling autism. At a time of already great challenge in her life, she was diagnosed with advanced cancer. With renewed faith in our Heavenly Father, she let go of some activities and devoted herself to her top priorities: taking care of her family and pursuing medical treatment for her condition.

Today she continues to struggle with life’s challenges, but all her activities are mediated by a beautiful spirit of waiting on the Lord. As her health permits, she makes gifts for friends and delivers meals to neighbors in need of comfort. The more she gives to others, the more peaceful becomes her countenance. “I need all my faith and patience,” she says. “I am fighting for my life.”

Sister Rosen has learned the truth of Isaiah’s promise: “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles” (Isa. 40:31).

I bought the first one several years ago in a drugstore in Alexandria, Virginia. At 77¢, it was the least pretentious bound notebook I could find. At the time, I didn’t know I was starting a journal. I only knew I needed a place to organize my thoughts.
Before then, I had written ideas on any convenient scrap of paper—on the backs of tithing slips, on church programs, in small spaces on calendars. As I lost those bits of paper, I lost my only record of my best insights. The time had come to make them more lasting.
From grade school through high school I had kept diaries, but the small, hand-size pages didn’t allow for long entries. And the word diary on the front seemed too lofty, like the record an explorer would keep of an Antarctic exploration. I wrote only the activities of my life in them, never my thoughts. (A typical entry: “Today I did horrible on my history test, but tonight Mike in my French class called me.”)
There was little emotional substance to those entries, but at least they were entries. Regrettably, as l attended college, I became “too busy” to keep a diary.
Therefore, when I bought the 77¢ notebook, I wasn’t thinking “diary” or “journal.” I was just tired of losing those insights that would make good Sunday School talks. As I wrote in that first notebook, I was fascinated by how easily words came. I began looking forward to writing in my notebook at night. Sometimes during the day I would write myself a note about ideas to record that night. Some mornings I awoke before dawn and wrote fervently for five minutes or even an hour, undisturbed by the need to get up and get dressed. Some nights I wrote several entries; some nights I wrote none.
I liked the inexpensive notebooks because I wasn’t afraid to make mistakes in them, or to write about the mistakes I made in living. I began setting aside time to write. I wrote in the same place—curled up on the sofa, by the lamp. I recorded in the margins events that were significant, such as a new car or the date of my cat’s vaccinations. The actual writing space was used to record my reactions to the day, my observations and conclusions.
It was only when I went back to the drugstore several months later to buy another notebook that I realized I was keeping a journal. I decided to give the series of notebooks a name: Janet. The first volume, Janet 1, hadn’t exactly assumed journal form, since I had dated few entries, and none mentioned daily activities and impressions. As I realized I was keeping a journal, I modified the format so that I would at least know what day each entry was written.

Recently I listened to two of these great young missionaries as they reviewed their experiences and efforts. In that reflective moment they considered the individuals they had contacted that day, some of whom were more responsive than others. As they considered the circumstances, they asked, “How can we help each individual develop a desire to know more about Heavenly Father? How do we help them feel His Spirit? How can we help them know that we love them?”

In my mind’s eye I could see these two young men three or four years after completing their missions. I visualized them as having found their eternal companions and serving in an elders quorum or teaching a group of young men. Now, instead of thinking about their investigators, they were asking the same questions about their quorum members or the young men they were commissioned to nurture. I saw how their missionary experience could be applied as a template for nurturing others throughout the rest of their lives. As this army of righteous disciples return from their missions to the many countries across the earth, they are becoming key contributors in the work of establishing the Church.

Shannon loved her family’s Christmas Eve traditions. First they ate fried rice and dumplings at their favorite Chinese restaurant. Then they drove around the city to look at the Christmas lights. When they got home, they read the Christmas story from the Bible together. And before bed, they got to open one present each. It was Shannon’s favorite night of the year. She could hardly wait!

Until Mom made an announcement.

“We’re having a special Christmas Eve guest this year. Remember Ms. Reed?”

Shannon groaned. “The neighbor Dad invited to church last week?”

“That’s right. Dad’s picking her up now.”

Shannon plopped into a chair. How could she relax and have fun with a stranger around? Christmas Eve was ruined! Well, Ms. Reed hadn’t come to church when Dad invited her. Maybe she wouldn’t come this time either.

But when Dad came through the door, the “special guest” was with him. Ms. Reed looked tired and kind of sad. Shannon said hello. But she didn’t want to say anything else. At dinner she just focused on her food while Mom and Dad chatted with Ms. Reed.

“Have you ever taken dance lessons?” asked a soft voice. Shannon saw that Ms. Reed was waiting for her to answer. She nodded and looked back down at her plate.

“Me too,” said Ms. Reed, her voice still quiet. “What’s your favorite dance style?”

Shannon shrugged, poking at a dumpling with her chopsticks.

“I love jazz,” Ms. Reed said. “I was on a dance team in college. One year we traveled all over Europe. It was amazing.”

Shannon looked up. That did sound amazing.

“What else do you like?” asked Shannon.

Ms. Reed gave a small smile. “Playing the piano. And math.”

Shannon’s eyes got big. “Really? Math is my favorite subject!”

Shannon talked to Ms. Reed for the rest of dinner. She found out that Ms. Reed had a college degree in math and was studying to become a math professor when she met her husband. He had made some bad choices and was now in prison.

After dinner Shannon sat by Ms. Reed while they drove around to look at the Christmas lights. And when they read the Christmas story, she shared her scriptures with Ms. Reed so she could follow along.

Soon it was time to open presents. Shannon got some cozy purple pajamas. She couldn’t wait to put them on! But she felt a little bad that Ms. Reed didn’t have a present.

Just then Mom handed a gift to Ms. Reed. Ms. Reed smiled shyly and unwrapped a pair of dark blue socks. She looked up at Mom with watery eyes. “Thank you. You really didn’t need to get me anything.”

Shannon went to her bedroom and put on her new pajamas. She couldn’t stop thinking about Ms. Reed. She seemed so grateful to get socks for Christmas!

As Shannon slipped her own fuzzy socks on, she heard beautiful music begin to play. She ran downstairs to find Mom and Dad singing carols while Ms. Reed played the piano. Shannon joined in. As she sang, a warm feeling grew in her heart. I guess it’s not so bad to have a guest on Christmas Eve, she thought.

On Sunday, Ms. Reed came to church and sat with Shannon’s family during sacrament meeting. She looked really happy. Shannon smiled as she shared her hymnbook with Ms. Reed. Maybe it was time to add a new Christmas Eve tradition.

However, hopes for the Book of Mormon in Hungarian began long before the first members were baptized in Hungary in the late 1980s. These hopes were at least 83 years old.

Just after Christmas of 1908 (83 Christmases before the Hungarian Book of Mormon was finally ready) Elder John Ensign Hill from Logan, Utah, began serving as the first LDS missionary to learn Hungarian and then preach in that language.1 During his mission, Elder Hill translated missionary tracts, conducted the first Church meeting held in Hungarian, and performed the first baptism in Hungarian. And, in November 1910, he and a Hungarian friend began work on Elder Hill’s “greatest aim” in his mission—translating the Book of Mormon. But after they had translated just 100 pages, the mission president told them to stop. At that time, Elder Hill wrote in his journal, “I felt that half my life had been taken away.”

Soon Elder Hill returned home. In 1914, less than four years later, the last missionary left Hungary and World War I began. By 1987, when Elder Russell M. Nelson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles dedicated the land of Hungary, a few Hungarians had been baptized while in other countries, and some selections from the Book of Mormon had been translated into Hungarian. However, no further missionary work had been done in the country, and the complete Book of Mormon had not been translated into that language.

Tom’s family had exercised faith in the face of illness before and had seen miracles as a result. Tom’s younger brother Ailama was sick some years earlier. Their father, Elisala, had a dream in which he was given specific directions on what to do to care for Ailama: find a wili-wili tree, remove some bark, and pound out the juice. Elisala did this and brought the juice to Ailama, who drank it and soon recovered. So Tom had seen how acting in faith can help overcome sickness.