Gospel Story Finder

On Sunday, March 27, 1836, hundreds of Latter-day Saints came to Kirtland for the dedication. The doors opened at 8:00 A.M., and one thousand people entered. Hundreds more were left outside. They had also worked and sacrificed for the building of the temple. Seeing their disappointment, Joseph Smith decided to repeat the dedication on Thursday.
The choir opened the meeting, then President Sidney Rigdon spoke for two and a half hours. After a brief intermission, the officers of the Church were sustained. Then the Prophet offered the dedicatory prayer, given to him by revelation. This prayer is now section 109 of the Doctrine and Covenants [D&C 109]. After the prayer, the choir sang “The Spirit of God,” which had been written specifically for the dedication.
The congregation ended the seven-hour service by standing and giving the sacred Hosanna Shout. Sister Eliza R. Snow said that it was given “with such power as seemed almost sufficient to raise the roof from the building.”

It was a real feeling of fear, she explained, that gave her “more than the usual desire to be ‘in’.” When Pat Terry Holland was 16, she moved with her family from a small rural town to a larger city. Recalling the anguish of that experience, she said, “I felt overly sensitive, very awkward, afraid, and unaccepted. I remember being really hurt at that time because my fear and hesitancy was mistaken for conceit and stand-offishness. It hurt so much to have people think I was stuck-up just because I was afraid to be outgoing and friendly.”
This timid young girl, in spite of her beauty, her intelligence, and the strength of her family, experienced the anguish of feeling left out and alone. She was hurting inside. “If I could just be really popular,” she had thought, “that would help me feel confident and happy. If I could just be a class officer, if I could be a cheerleader, if I could enter a queen contest and win, then I would be a really happy teenager.” These thoughts kept flooding her mind at that time when it appeared to her that no one else was suffering those terrible left-out feelings.
Years later, and still looking like a queen, but now more confident and happy, this young mother recalls those times as she relives and suffers a bit with her own children who are now facing the challenges that are so much a part of growing up. “You know,” she said happily, “all of those things did eventually come to me (class officer, cheerleader, and campus queen), and they did bring a lot of attention. But to my great surprise, I discovered that they, in and of themselves, were very empty experiences.”
She now draws strength from a more lasting and dependable resource, she explained: “Those honors, while rewarding, did not bring the real confidence and happiness that I was sure they would.”

Young Women in the Park Ridge Ward, Brisbane Australia Stake, are not content to wait for service opportunities to present themselves. They go out and find them. For their service project a couple of years ago, the girls went to a nearby blind hostel and visited the people who were staying there.
“At first, everyone was a bit nervous, not knowing where to go or what to say. Gradually the barriers of age and sight were overcome and the young women were chatting and learning about their new friends’ lives,” says Sariah Wesener, a Laurel.
The girls made the project a monthly activity, and were soon performing concerts for their newfound friends. After travel became too difficult, the girls had to say good-bye to the residents of the blind hostel, but they have decided to find ways to serve others every month.
This year, each girl is donating a can of food per month to those in need.

This past January, I had the privilege of witnessing a profound act of service in the life of a woman who had lived in my ward when I served as bishop many years ago. Her name is Adele, and she and her two grown daughters—one of whom is handicapped—have lived for many years in the Rose Park area of the Salt Lake Valley. Adele, who is a widow, has struggled financially, and her life has often been difficult.

I had received a telephone call from an individual involved with the Gingerbread House Project inviting me to the unveiling of Adele’s home, the renovation of which had been undertaken during a period of just over three days and nights by many kind and generous individuals, all working voluntarily with materials donated by numerous local businesses. During the time the makeover of her home had been accomplished, Adele and her two daughters had been hosted in a city a number of miles away where they themselves had received some pampering.

I was present when the limousine bearing Adele and her daughters arrived on the scene. The group which had been waiting for them included not only family and friends but also many of the craftsmen who had worked night and day on the project. It was obvious they were pleased with the result and were anxious to see the reaction of Adele and her daughters.

The women stepped from the car, blindfolds in place. What a thrilling moment it was when the blindfolds were removed and Adele and her daughters turned around and saw their new home. They were absolutely stunned by the magnificent project which had been completed, including a redesign of the front, an extension of the home itself, and a new roof. The outside looked new and immaculate. They could not help but cry.

I accompanied Adele and others as we entered the home and were amazed at what had been accomplished to beautify and enhance the surroundings. The walls had been painted, the floor coverings changed. There were new furnishings, new curtains, new drapes. The cupboards in the kitchen had been replaced; there were new countertops and new appliances. The entire house had been done over from top to bottom, each room spotless and beautiful. Adele and her daughters were literally overcome. However, just as poignant and touching were the expressions on the faces of those who had worked feverishly to make the house new. Tears welled in their eyes as they witnessed the joy they had brought into the lives of Adele and her daughters. Not only had a widow’s burden been made lighter, but countless other lives were touched in the process. All were better people for having participated in this effort.

My father had come for a visit, and I stayed home from work to talk with him. After breakfast, we spoke only briefly before he tired and went to sleep on the small sofa. It was quiet except for the sounds of his breathing, and I found myself filled with thoughts and feelings that surprised me with their intensity.
I could easily recognize the signs of his advanced age. What was left of his hair was gray. His face, wrinkled at the corners of his eyes and mouth, still had the look of character and sensitivity I had often seen as his son. Then, because of a cold, he also looked tired. My father’s hands are larger than should be the case for one of moderate build. His fingers are wide and strong. One little finger is permanently bent because of a farming accident. As a small child I had spent many sacrament meetings rubbing this finger thinking it would feel better.
I sat for several minutes looking at him and reflecting about our life together. I wondered how much longer he would live. He had been very lonely since Mother died three years earlier. And, though sad for me, maybe he would be happier to go soon. I felt very protective as I watched him, much like a parent feels toward a sleeping child who requires concern because he is vulnerable. I leaned back in my chair and fell deep into the memories of long ago.

When my friend broke my favorite toy, I didn’t get mad at her. I was kind and forgave her.
Norah M., age 3, British Columbia, Canada

When I was 19, my family lost everything. Life became overwhelmingly difficult for my mother, my siblings, and me. The uncertainty of our future weighed heavily on me. We often lacked sufficient food, and although my mother bravely hid her distress, I could see through her façade. Despair took hold of me, and I spiraled into hopelessness, convinced that my life would never amount to anything. In one of my moments of despair, I distinctly recall a voice in my mind asking, “Is this how your life is going to end? This is not who you are. You have the power to rise and shine. Just have a bit of faith.”
At the time, my younger sister had recently joined the Church. She frequently invited me to attend young single adult (YSA) activities, but I always declined—perhaps out of pride, feeling that I should lead the way as the older sibling. However, after my epiphany, I accepted her invitation. When I arrived at the YSA event, I intended to remain unnoticed, sitting quietly at the back. Yet a greeter at the door welcomed me warmly, and others approached me with genuine interest and kindness. They embraced me as their own and invited me to join in their activities. Surprisingly, I was surrounded by young people my age who radiated positivity and were full of joy. I felt truly loved and accepted for the first time in a long while.
My sister’s consistent invitations to church activities and the love and acceptance I received from the young single adults transformed my life. As I embraced the gospel of Jesus Christ, my faith grew. Though my future remained uncertain, I felt a renewed hope and peace. I was baptized in April 1997, and through that sacred ordinance, I came to understand that the voice I had heard during my epiphany earlier was the Holy Ghost. I am grateful for the constant companionship of the Spirit in my life today.
Faith, even in its most miniature form, can spark profound change. The Savior taught: “If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you” (Matthew 17:20). The love, sharing, and inviting extended to me by my sister and the YSA community led me to the missionaries and, ultimately, to the waters of baptism. I witnessed a mountain in my life shift, and my heart and circumstances transformed. This journey deepened my testimony of Jesus Christ.
Today, my family (my wife and children) enjoys the blessings of the gospel, including the sacred privilege of being sealed together in the temple. From despair to divine hope, we have been showered with the Lord’s blessings. I testify that Jesus is the Christ and that we are led by a living prophet today. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Those who listen have the responsibility to prepare their hearts to be taught. My personal experience with general conference is not just listening to the words but also feeling what the Spirit of the Lord would want me to learn. I listen to general conference messages always with a willingness to learn what is important for me. On one occasion, the speaker was relating a story that I had already heard before and on a topic about which I felt satisfied regarding its application in my life. Immediately I felt an impression and heard something telling me, “Eustache, instead of telling yourself that you know what it is all about and that you are already doing it well, rather ask yourself why the Lord would want you to hear it and learn it again.” By listening to the talk, I learned something new that I would never have learned otherwise.

Another prospective missionary at the devotional was Isaias Macamo Junior. “It was such an honour to have the Lord send the priesthood keys to Mozambique,” he said. “It was such a privilege to be with an Apostle and hear him share his testimony. It really was a historical day, and I will never forget it.”
Reflecting on Elder Rasband’s reminder that this is just the beginning, Brother Macamo Junior said, “I cannot imagine what is coming. I honestly believe what Elder Rasband taught—that the future of the Church in Mozambique is so bright.”

Visibility is generally low in Lake Mead in Nevada, and since we were diving shortly after a storm, we knew it would be very difficult to see. The weather, however, was beautiful. So we loaded our equipment on the boat and headed out. We beached the boat on a small island about 150 yards east of where we knew a large boat had sunk years before. After putting on our diving gear, we swam the distance on the surface of the water to the buoy that marked the location of the wreck.
Once we reached the buoy, we descended below the surface along the rope that held the buoy to the boat far below. Visibility was even poorer than we had expected. We held tightly to the rope as we continued our descent, trying in vain to see through the murky darkness which surrounded us. We could not see the wreck until we were within ten feet of it. For the next 40 minutes, we explored in and around the large boat.
When we decided it was time to return to the island, I indicated to my friend that we should return underwater rather than surface swim. Swimming underwater is far less strenuous, and I had no desire to repeat the exhausting surface swim which we endured before the dive began. Suspended a few feet above the lake floor, I looked at my compass and decided to head directly east. I had unwisely not taken a compass bearing before descending, but I had noticed that our boat was generally east.
My friend and I swam for about 20 yards before the lake bed dropped out of sight below us. We needed to maintain our current depth rather than descending with the lake bottom, so we continued east for another 50 yards. At that point my friend and I conferred. As we looked around, we could see no more than ten feet in any direction. The murky darkness around us was eerie, and we knew if our original compass bearing was off by a few degrees, we would miss the island entirely. We decided it would be safest to ascend to the surface and complete our swim to the island from there.
I checked my depth gauge. It said 55 feet. We began our ascent. Looking around, we could see nothing but dark green, murky water around us and our bubbles rising to the surface. We were being careful not to go up too quickly. A good rule is to not rise faster than your smallest bubbles. Our small bubbles were creeping past us, so we felt safe. After about a minute, I knew something was wrong. The light was the same, the temperature had not changed, and there was no easing of the pressure on our bodies. It did not feel like we were rising. I checked the depth gauge again. It said 58 feet.
What?
All that time I thought I was making positive progress, I was, in fact, sinking deeper into the depths below. I began kicking faster toward the surface and kept a close eye on my depth gauge because I now needed to rely on the instrument to guide me to the surface. The needle began to creep slowly upward.
My friend had adopted a similar strategy, and we moved together toward the surface. The murky darkness around us lightened. The water temperature began to rise, and the pressure on our bodies began to ease as we continued our ascent. When we broke the water’s surface, I felt an incredible surge of relief. Looking quickly at my compass, I realized we might have missed the island had we not decided to surface when we did.
As we broke the water’s surface, one thought struck me. I thought of Lehi’s vision of the tree of life where he sees many people pressing forward along the straight and narrow path toward the tree which represents the love of God. As the people progress, a mist of darkness arises to blind the eyes and harden the hearts of the people. Never before had this story hit me with as much force as it did that day at the lake. When I was below the surface, I was blind as to which direction to go and I had difficulty getting my bearings.
My compass and depth gauge helped me that day, but it would have been much easier to follow the same rope to the surface which we had held onto as we had descended to the wreck. I felt what a desperate state we can find ourselves in if we do not hold fast to the iron rod—the word of God—to keep us on the path toward eternal life.

A picture forms on my monitor involving a father aboard an airplane on a short business trip. He has with him his five-year-old son and is almost wishing his son were not there because it is a very rough trip. There are downdrafts and updrafts and head winds alternating with tail winds, and some passengers are feeling a bit queasy. Apprehensively, the father glances at his son and finds him grinning from ear to ear. “Dad,” he says, “do they do this just to make it fun for the kids?”
Good parents and family and leaders and friends do go to great lengths to make it fun for the kids, but the fun they are thinking of is wholesome fun; it hurts no one, and it lifts the spirit and is good to remember tomorrow and through a lifetime and forever. It never detracts from the real, long-term joy we came into this world to experience.

Who could forget the white-robed Samaritans crouched on mats at the top of Mount Gerazim to celebrate the Passover sacrifice, or the head priest at the Samaritan sanctuary at Nablus, showing the Torah (the first five books of the Bible) claimed to be 3,500 years old? And for one young woman, the memory of kneeling next to wheat harvesters in a field in Israel will forever reinforce one of the strongest images of the New Testament:
“[He] will gather the wheat into his garner; but the chaff he will burn with fire unquenchable” (Luke 3:17).

Allison’s mother grew up in Osaka, Japan, where missionaries tracted out and taught her family. At age 12, Sister Eldredge was baptized, and shortly thereafter she began using her musical talents to perform benefit concerts for the Church all over Japan.

Today, probably more than in any other period of history, we find more profanity and vulgarity being used. I had a particular experience in my life that showed me how using the wrong word can shock those who do not expect such an utterance to come from you. I was in boot camp in the U.S. Marine Corps during World War II. Of course, the language among my fellow Marines was not of the caliber that you would want to repeat. Being a recently returned missionary, I determined I should keep my language above the level they were using. I tried consistently to keep from saying even the simplest and most common of swear words.

One day we were on the rifle range firing for our final qualification scores. I had done well in the 100-, 200-, and 300-yard positions. Now we were back at the 500-yard position. All I needed was a reasonable score—just hitting the target without even having to hit the bull’s-eye—and I would make Expert Rifleman. We had been charged up with the desire to excel and be the top platoon in firing for qualifications. I tensed up at the 500-yard standing position and on my first shot threw my shoulder into the rifle. Of course, the flag waved—I had missed the target. And likewise I missed the opportunity of being named Expert Rifleman.

Out of my mouth came a little four-letter word that I had determined never to use. Much to my shock and chagrin, suddenly the whole range stopped firing and everyone turned and looked at me with their mouths open. Any other Marine firing from that position that day could have used the word I used without anyone paying attention. But because I had determined that I would carry the standards of the mission field into the Marine Corps, everyone was shocked when I forgot myself.

I recently felt irritated as I scrolled through my Instagram feed and felt perfectly justified in my unkind feelings toward some of my friends. After all, they seemed to live shiny, golden lives filled with one fantastic adventure after another. I felt conflicted but rationalized my feelings. “These people!” I scoffed.
My scoffs and eye rolls evaporated one morning when I read Moroni 7:4: “And now my brethren, I judge these things of you because of your peaceable walk with the children of men.” At this time, Moroni was sharing the words of his father, Mormon, to the Church members. Mormon spoke to the “peaceable followers of Christ” about faith, hope, and charity (Moroni 7:3).
In this marvelous chapter, the Lord teaches how we can have a “peaceable walk” among men. In my negative and certainly unfair attitude toward my fellow social media users, I was not walking very peaceably. Rather, I’d been slinking along, secretly grumbling at others’ successes. I was like a “bitter fountain” not bringing forth “good water,” or not being Christlike in my thoughts and feelings toward others (Moroni 7:11).

Vanderlei Lira of Brazil served for six years as a branch president, helping his branch grow from 18 to 110 active members, while working as a laborer because he lacked education. When PEF was announced, he was able to study occupational safety and find new work, which helped him increase his salary and quickly repay his loan. He continues to serve in the Church today. His stake president describes him as a great leader and father, “a giant liberated by opportunity.”

I knew we are all supposed to share the gospel, but I had never had any success. Then, during a Spanish course I was taking, I met a young man named Tiago. We became friends and often walked home from school together. One day we passed an LDS chapel that had recently been built.
“I have been a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for several years,” I said. I shared with him some of the things that we believe, and I told him how much my family and I have been blessed because of the gospel. I invited him to attend meetings that coming Sunday at 9:00 a.m.
Sunday arrived and I anxiously waited, but he did not come. During the week, I invited him again. This continued every week for two or three months. He always gave me a reason why he hadn’t shown up: “I slept late,” “I was tired,” “There were problems.” But I kept asking him anyway, and he didn’t seem to mind.
One Sunday morning I sat down on one of the benches toward the back of the chapel. There were still a few minutes to go before the meeting began when someone quietly called my name. I looked toward the door, and there was Tiago!
“Didn’t I promise you I would come one day?” he said. He attended sacrament meeting and, to my surprise, stayed for the rest of the meetings and seemed pleased when I introduced him to the missionaries. He began meeting with them regularly. Tiago and I continued to talk as we walked home from school, but our conversations were about the truths he was learning. I was able to answer questions and bear my testimony. Finally, he gained a testimony of his own and joined the Church.
Today I am a full-time missionary in the Brazil Santa Maria Mission. Before I left for the mission field, Tiago also submitted his application to be a full-time missionary, and he is now serving in the Brazil Manaus Mission.
I recently received a letter from him. “Thank you for inviting me again and again to come to church,” he wrote. “I will be eternally grateful.” I am happy not only to share the gospel each day but also to know that Tiago is doing the same.

When Lorenzo Snow was a young boy, he ran from a charging bull! He quickly climbed a tall tree as the bull pawed the ground. Lorenzo prayed for help. Just then, his father came riding up on his horse. One crack from his bullwhip sent the bull running.

One day, Sister Escobar and Sister Flake followed a prompting of the Spirit and found themselves led to a pink house. José Luis, a blind man, answered the door and invited them into his home to share a scripture message. The sisters learned that his wife, Rosa, was not feeling well and was resting in another room.
When the missionaries taught José Luis about the Book of Mormon, Jesus Christ and His mission on the earth, he was eager to learn. He was so enthusiastic about what they taught that he asked for a copy of the Book of Mormon right away. He said he would have his sister read it to him or find a way to have a recorded version made.
The sisters told him when the church meeting was held on Sunday, and José was excited to come. He said he would be there the next Sunday and would bring his wife.
That Sunday, the missionaries were sitting in class when they felt impressed to leave the room. As they went out, they heard the shouts of José Luis and Rosa outside the building, struggling to find the church entrance. Rushing to help them, they realized that Rosa was also blind, and their hearts were touched by the couple’s vulnerability. It was obvious that the pair was relieved when Sister Escobar and Sister Flake found them. Everyone was grateful for the tender mercy that led the sisters to leave the class when they did. The ward members embraced José Luis and Rosa into their fold and were amazed that they would come on their own to church, despite their disabilities.
Visiting José Luis and Rosa at their home reveals another layer of their resilience. Despite their visual impairment, the couple manages daily tasks independently and even cooked a traditional Dominican meal for the missionaries. They were amazed to learn that Rosa’s illness makes it hard for her to stand for long periods of time, but she still manages to get things done.
As the sister missionaries continued to teach José Luis and Rosa, they saw the extraordinary ability of the couple to absorb and retain information. They understood everything and had it memorized after hearing it just once. They quickly grasped concepts such as the Restoration of the gospel and the Word of Wisdom. Their commitment was evident when the missionaries told them they would have to give up coffee as part of obedience to the Word of Wisdom, and they obeyed without hesitation.
The words of the Book of Mormon brought them obvious joy, and on June 28, 2023, José Luis and Rosa were invited to be baptized and enthusiastically accepted. They had received an answer to prayer that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was the true church of God on the earth and wanted to be part of it. José Luis and Rosa’s commitment and faith were unwavering, and their faith brought the Spirit to each meeting with the missionaries.
During the month before their baptism, the members came together to help the blind couple get to church every week. Their baptism on July 29, 2023, was attended by many members and acquaintances who showed their love on that special day. Encircled with this love, José Luis and Rosa expressed gratitude to a kind Heavenly Father for the opportunity to be spiritually born again. They were confirmed the next day in church and received the gift of the Holy Ghost. Now they never miss a Sunday meeting.
José Luis and Rosa are examples for everyone. The couple says if it weren’t for their loss of sight, they wouldn’t have learned as much. Their example of joy in adversity has helped other members to better understand what James meant when he said, “My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations [trials];
“Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience.
“But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing” (James 1:2–4).
José Luis and Rosa’s faith to follow and make a covenant with God changed their lives. Now they are preparing to enter the temple. They share the gospel and their testimonies with those they meet.
Sister Escobar and Sister Flake say, “We are very grateful to our Heavenly Father for the opportunity to share the gospel of Jesus Christ with these wonderful people. This experience changed our lives. We better understand what Jesus Christ meant when He taught, ‘blessed are all the pure in heart, for they shall see God’” (3 Nephi 12:8).

Louisa never married, but when her younger sister May died, she raised May’s baby, who had been named Louisa after her. Lulu, as the child was called, brightened Louisa’s life and became like a daughter to her.