Gospel Story Finder

I grew up in Argentina. I was not a member of the Church when I was young. But my family kept a Bible on our shelf. It was large and had beautiful pictures. We didn’t read it together very often. But I loved to look through its pages and see the pictures and stories.
My favorite was the story of Noah. I loved seeing Noah, the flood, and the animals. I liked how the ark kept Noah and his family safe from the storm.
Years later, I was baptized into the Church, got married, and had my own family. One night in family home evening, I talked about how Noah’s ark and our home were alike in many ways. Each provided safety from the scary storms of the world.

Our baptism was truly a turning point, for the eyes of our understanding had been opened. For us, the Business of Being had really commenced; and we had the Holy Ghost, bestowed upon us following baptism, to help us, guide us, comfort us, and teach us “the peaceable things of the kingdom.” (D&C 36:2.)
My first real assignment in industry was almost simultaneous with my baptism. Some thought it was a premature promotion for a junior trainee; but the windows of heaven were opening up and promised blessings of tithe-paying were pouring forth on our humble little family. (See Mal. 3:10.) How grateful we were, and are, for the principle of tithing. And what an easy principle to obey. We pay our tithing first and then the Lord helps us to use our nine-tenths wisely. I can bear testimony of that.
We have never worried about worldly possessions. When we joined the Church we had no car, no telephone, no washing machine, no refrigerator, no vacuum cleaner. We have always appreciated the Lord’s admonition and promise: “Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.” (Matt. 6:33.) I can certainly testify to the reality of this, for the things which would help us do the Lord’s work more effectively were added unto us.

When I was a new bride, I asked my mother-in-law, who is a very good cook, if she would teach me how to make her delicious dinner rolls. With a sparkle in her eye, she replied that it took 25 years to learn to make a good roll! Then she added, “You had better start making some.” I followed her advice, and we have enjoyed many good dinner rolls at our house.
If reading the scriptures is not already a habit with you, today is a great day to start. It did not really take 25 years to learn to make good dinner rolls. I just needed the encouragement to get started. Homemade rolls have brought much enjoyment to my family. But the greater joy has come from the habit of daily scripture reading which I started so many years ago. Some days I have a lot of time to contemplate the scriptures. Other days I reflect on a few verses. Just as eating and breathing sustain my physical body, the scriptures feed and give life to my spirit. I can now echo Nephi and say: “My soul delighteth in the scriptures, and my heart pondereth them. … Behold, my soul delighteth in the things of the Lord; and my heart pondereth continually upon the things which I have seen and heard” (2 Ne. 4:15–16). In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Charlotte: But that was exactly my concern—that he would join the Church for you.
Katherine: You mean to please me because he liked me and perhaps wanted to marry me, and not because he was really converted to the gospel?
Charlotte: Exactly. And isn’t that what almost happened with __________?
Katherine: I think so. I remember I was so happy when he came to church with me and then started taking lessons from the missionaries. He felt the special closeness of our branch and was really amazed that there could be such a spirit of love. It was different from any church service he had been to. But the informal atmosphere and the way everyone took part, from little children to new converts who were untrained—all that bothered him; he couldn’t see that that was part of what created the spirit of love. He was really impressed, though, with the missionaries; he had never met young men his own age with such high goals and such a spirit of service.
Charlotte: I remember that they became good friends, and he kept taking the lessons even though he didn’t seem to be making much progress.
Katherine: That was because of me. He wasn’t really becoming converted, but he kept on because of what the Church meant to me. He especially resisted taking initiative himself, like in praying, and he started saying he could never imagine himself giving talks, or teaching a class, or especially being a missionary. Then after a while he began to resent even talking with me about the Church. It was horrible to see the very things that had helped him before—encouraging him to study and pray and go to church, bearing my testimony to him and talking about the joy of the gospel—now turn him more against the Church and against me. That’s when we finally decided to break up.
Charlotte: That was a very painful time, Katherine; we all suffered so much with you.
Katherine: It still hurts to think about it, but I know it was the right thing to do. I’m just grateful that my convictions about temple marriage were so strong that I couldn’t compromise and marry him anyway, in the hope of converting him later. President Kimball told us in an address last fall at BYU that as much as he loves and honors those who join the Church after marriage, the odds are against it, that only one out of seven non-Mormons who marry Mormons later join the Church. That’s leaving very small chance for eternal happiness.
Charlotte: Yes, we’ve seen the heartache that situation has caused entire families. Your father and I prayed many times for you, but we had confidence in your training and your testimony.
Katherine: Well, I’m grateful to __________ for having the integrity not to pretend to believe something he didn’t.
Charlotte: I am too. That is a terrible pattern that hurts and destroys too many marriages. As you saw __________ with a person can want to please someone he loves enough to try to believe something different and become different. But if the change doesn’t genuinely occur through his own decisions, after a while he can’t help resenting the pressure on him, and he eventually turns the resentment toward the one who seems to be pushing him in that direction. This is true not only of nonmembers of the Church, but of people in the Church who do not have the same convictions about the Church and their duty in it, or as strong a spiritual witness of the gospel. Especially after marriage when there is no longer any need to pretend in order to win someone over, the very efforts that before were encouraging them tend to be turned into a source of irritation, even a cause for rebellion.
Katherine: That’s exactly what happened with __________ and me! We were lucky that it happened before we got married.

At school, I got bullied and mocked for my beliefs. Because of that and other challenges, I felt like the world was crashing down on me. But my mother encouraged me to rely on the Atonement of Jesus Christ because He understands my pain and can bring me peace and comfort (see Doctrine and Covenants 19:23).

I decided to promise Heavenly Father that I would fast regularly. I asked Him to help me with my weaknesses and struggles, and He has been doing so ever since.

Fasting has brought me closer to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. I know They are always by my side, giving me strength to overcome my challenges and find true happiness. Jesus Christ is healing my wounds and helping me return to my Heavenly Father.
Vera R., 17, Brasília, Brazil

For Cassidy, it was a surprise when he was called to the presidency. “I got a call asking me to come for an interview with the bishop,” said Cassidy. “I knew something was going to happen, but I didn’t know what it was. I had served in the elders quorum presidency in my small branch back home in the Marshall Islands before my mission, and I learned a lot. But here, in such a large quorum, I have learned even more.
“The thing that has impressed me most was when we looked at all the names on the list and discussed what we were going to do to help each person. It meant a lot to me that we were talking about the needs of each person. It hit me that I was thinking more about others than I was about myself.”

Imagine a glass full of clear, pure water. If we bump the glass, some water might spill out and the glass wouldn’t be full anymore.

Wanda’s brown eyes stared blankly at the empty loom. Her hands were folded in her lap, and her long black hair danced in the breeze. For weeks Grandmother and twelve-year-old Wanda had planned and prepared for this rug. They had sheared the sheep and then washed and dyed the wool, using native dyes made from roots, berries, nuts, and plants.
Grandmother’s wrinkled hands had showed Wanda how to card the wool and spin it into yarn. Wanda had watched carefully, for this was to be her first rug, her very own creation.
Grandmother’s head peeked out of the nearby hogan, her hands busy patting a piece of fry bread into shape. “You must work, Wanda Kieyoomia. The rug will not weave by itself.”
“But Grandmother, won’t you draw out the design like you have before and just let me weave it?”
“No, Wanda. You cannot become a real Navajo by weaving the designs of others. You must weave your own story into the rug. You must prove yourself worthy of your people.”
Wanda turned back to the empty loom. She picked up a ball of black yarn and stared at it.
What can I weave? she wondered. I have not had a frightful experience of bravery as Kathy Silentman did. I have never met a great person as Elvira Tak did. I have nothing important to weave into my rug.
Wanda threw the ball of black yarn to the ground and walked into the hogan. Mother and Grandmother were just finishing the fry bread.
“We have made fry bread just for you,” Mother smiled. But Wanda did not seem to hear.
Mother’s long skirt rustled and her silver and turquoise jewelry clicked to the rhythm of the crackling fire. Finally she asked, “Have you decided whether you will go to the white man’s school next year, Wanda?”
Wanda shook her head. She did not want to go; she was a Navajo and had no use for white man’s ways. But how could she tell Mother? Why were there so many problems and decisions all at once?
“You must decide soon,” Grandmother reminded her. “The time is growing short.”
Wanda did not want to talk about her decision just yet. After she had finished the dishes, she tried to get away while Mother put the little ones to sleep, but Mother stopped her.
“Wanda,” Mother said as she pulled the covers over two-year-old Roberta. “You cannot delay longer. The man from the placement bureau must be told the day after tomorrow. And there is one other thing, my daughter.”
Mother Kieyoomia walked to the door and motioned for Wanda to follow. They walked to the loom. Mother smoothed her beautiful Navajo skirt around her as she sat down. “Wanda, do you remember cousin Victoria?”
“Yes, she’s been at the white man’s school for three years now.”
“And do you remember how she tells of the many things she has learned? Now she is helping her family by teaching them.”
“I know she has learned many things,” Wanda answered, “but Mother, they are white men’s things. We are Navajos, and I only need to know how to cook and weave and take care of my hogan.”
“That is what I wanted to tell you, Wanda. I am glad that you are proud to be a Navajo, but we must progress with the white man’s world. Your father and I have decided to move to one of the new houses on the reservation.”
Wanda jumped to her feet. “A white man’s house? Move from our hogan?”
“Yes, Wanda. It will be much more comfortable for our large family.”
Wanda stared first at the balls of yarn and then at her mother. Then she turned and ran into the sagebrush-covered hills. Her long skirt wrapped around her ankles as she ran.
Suddenly she fell into the sand, panting hard to catch her breath. Slowly she rolled over and looked at the fluffy white clouds floating through the sky. A white man’s house? How could they do this? We are Navajos. I will always be a Navajo! I will not adopt the white man’s ways.
Her eyes began to fill with tears, but she choked them back. A Navajo does not cry, she reminded herself.
Suddenly she had an idea. I will weave into my rug the story of our people, she decided. I will remind Mother and Father of how our people have been treated. Then they will not want me to go. She jumped up and walked back to the hogan, thinking about the design of the rug.
The news that Wanda had started her rug spread quickly among the women. It is an important event when a girl weaves her first rug all alone. Everyone smiled as they agreed, “Wanda will be an asset to our people just as Victoria has been. We will be proud of her.”
The words stung Wanda’s ears, making her weave faster and faster. But Victoria left our people for three years. How can they compare me to her? I will not go to a white man’s school! I am a Navajo!
Wanda’s fingers ached as she gathered up the balls of yarn for the night. “It will be a beautiful rug,” a voice from behind said. Wanda looked up, startled.
“Hello, Victoria,” she said softly as she went back to her work. “I did not hear you come.”
“I’ve been watching you. Your fingers are nimble and sure. What will your rug tell, Wanda?” Victoria asked. “My first rug was about my grandfather.”
“You wove a story rug?” Wanda questioned.
“Of course. I am a Navajo.” Victoria sat down next to Wanda and ran her fingers through the sand.
Wanda stared at her. “But you have been living with white people and going to white schools!”
“Yes, to help my family and my people. I have learned many things from the white man, but I am a Navajo. I want our people to have the best of both cultures. Then we will have both the good things that the white men have and the good things that our people have always had. Someday you will go to school so you can help too.”
When Victoria left, Wanda’s old thoughts and feelings buzzed through her head as she compared them with what Victoria had just told her. All night she thought of it, tossing and turning as she tried to sleep.
As the delicate half-light of morning was beginning to creep into the valley, Wanda hurried out to her loom.
Her hands worked fast and sure as they had done the day before, but on her face was a smile of peace. By nightfall the rug was completed, and everyone gathered to see Wanda’s work.
Father Kieyoomia was the first to see the small rug. He looked at it a long, long time. Finally he turned to Wanda. “I am proud of you, my daughter,” he said. “Most girls tell of things that have happened. They are past; they cannot be changed. But you have told of the future, a future you will help to make by going to the white man’s school and learning about the world. Then you will bring the good things you learn back to us, your people. You are a real Navajo.”

A friend shared an experience she had as a small child in a branch of the Church where she was the only child of Primary age. Week after week, her mother held home Primary on the same day and at the same time. She eagerly anticipated sitting on the sofa with her mother and learning the gospel of Jesus Christ and how to live it. Minutes carefully recorded by her mother in a notebook revealed that the home Primary meetings always included prayers, songs, and a lesson.

The desire of this mother’s heart was for her little daughter to develop a testimony of Jesus Christ and to feel the joy of the gospel. She provided her daughter with what had been so important to her as a child. This little girl, now a woman of faith and covenant, looks back on her childhood with deep appreciation for her mother’s enthusiasm and commitment to teach her of the Savior. This mother’s diligence became her daughter’s delight—with an exclamation mark!

The story is told that on one occasion, a traveler asked a farmer who was seated in the doorway of his humble cabin, “How’s the cotton crop going to be this year?”
The farmer replied, “There won’t be any. I didn’t bother to plant it because I was afraid of the boll weevil.”
Upon hearing this, the traveler asked further, “Well, are you going to harvest a big corn crop?”
“It’s the same,” came the response. “I was afraid we wouldn’t get enough rain for the kernels to mature.”
The traveler pursued, “At least you will have a good potato harvest!”
“Nope. Not any; I didn’t dare plant them because I was afraid of insects.”
With frustration, and somewhat impatiently, the traveler then asked, “Well, what is it that you have planted?”
“Nothing, my good man,” came the answer. “I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

Since January, more than 350,000 refugees fleeing civil war in Syria have sought asylum in Europe, a number expected to double by year-end. LDS Charities is partnering with international non-governmental organizations, local municipalities, and national government agencies to meet needs of refugees and is providing resources for local Church congregations to use in their response efforts.

Many of your generation are facing crushing debt. When I was a young adult, my stake president was an investment banker on Wall Street. He taught me, “You are rich if you can live happily within your means.” How can you do it? Pay your tithing and then save! When you earn more, save more. Don’t compete with others to have expensive toys. Don’t buy what you can’t afford.

Or look at what happens when I clean up my room. I have it all fixed up in a hurry, and then she ruins it all by looking under the bed! Then she’ll want to know why I didn’t clean off my dresser, and I have to start cleaning the room all over again.

I don’t ever want to forget him. You see, Hans got really sick last month—Mother said it was meningitis. Even though the doctor and the bishop came to help, he died.
We all cried when Hans died. Mother and Father hugged each other and cried. They hugged me too. Our neighbors and friends came over and they cried. I’m glad that our friends were there. It helped to talk to my friends. It helped to just sit on the porch with them beside me.
Hans’s funeral was in the morning. My grandparents and all my cousins and aunts and uncles came. Our friends and neighbors were there, too. Mother and Father played a song for Hans on the piano and then talked a lot about Hans and Jesus.
Hans is buried near a little pine tree. I like that tree. Father says that we can watch it grow. It will remind us that Hans is really alive, too, only with Jesus.
I know that Hans will always be my brother because Mother and Father were married in the temple. I didn’t know how important that was until Hans died. Now I do.

A little over a month ago, I received a message from a returned missionary who had served with us. He said: “The last while has been tough. Battling anxiety and depression every day has been weighing me down, and it is very difficult. I feel alone and just miserable. I have been praying for the guidance of our Heavenly Father for peace and comfort in what I can do to battle the hardship. … While I was praying, I felt the prompting of the Spirit tell me that I needed to be paying my tithing in full. … I felt the Spirit so strongly, and I immediately felt the urge to do so. With the desire to do so, I felt the prompting that ‘if you pay your tithing, everything will be OK.’ I am still struggling to find peace, but I do have a testimony in our Savior and that through my obedience, I can feel and find the peace I am looking for in my heart and mind. I have recently decided to come back to the Church and to seek the Spirit in all that I do.”

Now he is doing very well. You also may ask Heavenly Father for peace, but the answer may be different than what you anticipate it will be. As long as you seek to know of the Savior and pray to Heavenly Father, He will give you a customized answer for you.

2. Outside, not far from the house, three men saw the angel Moroni and the gold plates. They are called the Three Witnesses because they witnessed, or saw, the plates. You can find their testimonies in the front of the Book of Mormon.

During our daughter’s first few months of treatment, our time and energy were filled with the daily grind of our children’s health-care needs. Normally, I like to give people thank-you notes but didn’t make the time for that. Instead, I kept a list on my computer of some of the gifts and acts of service we received, both to remember to thank later and to remind us of the wonderful people watching out for us. This is a list I hold dear to my heart, and it serves as a reminder on how I can help those around me.

“He is a true missionary. His first name is Nephi, and he follows his namesake. She is a tremendous lady, has always been a great example. Will do great wherever called. This is their fifth mission.” (They had previously served in Guam, Nigeria, Vietnam, Pakistan, Singapore, and Malaysia. Giving them some respite from those arduous paths, the Lord’s servants called that couple to serve in the Nauvoo Temple.)

I have seen this firsthand. Several years ago, my dear wife Wendy determined to learn how to do family history research. Her progress at first was slow, but little by little she learned how easy it is to do this sacred work. And I have never seen her happier. You too need not travel to other countries or even to a family history center. At home, with the aid of a computer or mobile device, you can identify souls who are yearning for their ordinances. Make the Sabbath a delight by finding your ancestors and liberating them from spirit prison!19

The Baby Sister by Tomie dePaolaTommy is excited about the upcoming arrival of his baby sister. But when the family’s plans change and his Nana comes to stay with him instead of his beloved aunt, Tommy isn’t sure he likes the new arrangement. Find out how Tommy and Nana find common ground. (Ages 4–8)