Gospel Story Finder

I was busy shopping one day some years ago when two young women asked if they could speak with me. “Certainly,” I replied.
“If you died today,” they asked, “would you go to heaven?”
They must have noticed my surprise, because they immediately opened their copies of the Bible and quoted a verse from the New Testament. “All you need to do to go to heaven,” they declared, “is to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ.”
What followed is still a painful memory. I was amazed at their doctrine, and I tried to remember what I had learned at Sunday School, seminary and college religion classes I had taken on the New Testament; but I could give only one scripture to indicate that there was more to entering the kingdom of heaven than simply a profession of faith.
The two women quickly quoted other scriptures similar to the first. I could share some of my beliefs as a Latter-day Saint, but I could not quote the principles from the scriptures. Unconvinced by my feeble arguments, they soon left me. I watched them walking hurriedly up to the next shopper.
“It is a common thing,” President Spencer W. Kimball said, “to have a few passages of scripture at our disposal, floating in our minds, as it were, and thus to have the illusion that we know a great deal about the gospel.”
Such an illusion was mine!
“Each of us,” he continued, “at some time in our lives, must discover the scriptures for ourselves—and not just discover them once, but rediscover them again and again.” (Tambuli, September, 1976.)
The experience discouraged me, and I determined to never again be unprepared. I set aside some regular study time, and began to discover the gospel again.

This tenderness of heart allowed Brother Quasie to be touched by the Spirit when he first heard about the Church. In 1986, when he was 16 years old, the Church was new in the Cape Coast area. One night, a friend invited him to see a movie in the town open market. It was a movie about Joseph Smith’s First Vision and the Book of Mormon. After watching the movie, he felt that it was true and wanted to learn more but wasn’t sure how to get more information. Then he met Elder and Sister Nelson from the United States. They taught him the gospel by having Anthony proselyte with them and after a week, they asked him if would like to be baptized. “I decided to be baptized without consulting my parents, who were Catholic. I took that decision independently”, he said.
In those days, baptisms in Cape Coast were done in the ocean. On 30 April 1986, Brother Quasie was baptized on the same beach that the first Ghanaian members had been baptized a few years earlier.

After Julina married Joseph F. Smith (later the sixth President of the Church), she had ten children, who were like grandchildren to Bathsheba. They and her daughter’s fourteen children brought Bathsheba much joy. She knit them mittens, wove them dress fabric, and sewed them clothes. She hid these things in her flowered carpetbag when she went to visit them. After running to hug and kiss her, they eagerly waited to see what gifts were in the carpetbag for them.

Brothers and sisters, we have not seen the last of Joseph Smith. He is not merely a prophet of the past. When Joseph and Hyrum were in Carthage, Elder Parley P. Pratt was traveling on his way home to Nauvoo from a mission. In the very hour their innocent blood was being shed, “a strange and solemn awe” came over Elder Pratt, “as if the powers of hell were let loose.”[83] When he later heard that Joseph and Hyrum had been killed, he cried out in anguish:
O Lord! In the name of Jesus Christ I pray Thee, show me what these things mean, and what I shall say to Thy people [in Nauvoo]? On a sudden the Spirit of God came upon me…and while the spirit of revelation glowed in my bosom with as visible a warmth and gladness as if it were fire. The Spirit said unto me: “Lift up your head and rejoice; for behold! It is well with my servants Joseph and Hyrum. My servant Joseph still holds the keys of my kingdom in this dispensation, and he shall stand in due time on the earth, in the flesh, and fulfill that to which he is appointed.[84]

President M. Russell Ballard shared his tender experience of rationalizing away a spiritual prompting. It is instructive for us all. As he was leaving his bishop’s office late one evening, President Ballard had a strong impression to visit an elderly widow in his ward. However, he reasoned that it was too late. And it was snowing. He postponed the visit until the next day.

Early the next morning, [he] drove straight to the widow’s home. Her daughter answered the door and tearfully said, “Oh, Bishop, thank you for coming. Mother passed away two hours ago.” [President Ballard] was devastated. . . . [He had missed the opportunity to] hold her hand, comfort her, and perhaps give her a final blessing . . . because [he had] reasoned away this strong prompting from the Spirit.60

Something like this has happened to me more than once. Perhaps it has happened to you too.

One athlete I worked with using this method was a U.S. Olympic mogul skier who, seven months prior to the Vancouver Olympics, was on the C team and was not ranked very high. Her coach approached me and asked me to work with her with the hope that she might be ready to compete at the Sochi Olympics four and a half years down the road. I remember the conversation. The coach wanted to test the effectiveness of mental strength training. He said to me that this particular athlete would do what I asked and that she was my guinea pig.

The athlete worked hard on training her thoughts to be positive and proactive and on using relevant cues to purify her thought patterns. She did everything I asked. On November 19 she called me in tears. She had just made the last discretionary position on the World Cup tour. This was a subjective coaches’ decision to bring someone onto the World Cup team who had minimal professional experience.

As the season progressed through the early winter months, this athlete continued to develop her skills rapidly to the point that, by the time the World Cup at Deer Valley came around at the end of January, she was sitting in tenth place on the tour. She had achieved several fourth-place finishes to get to tenth in the world, but she had never finished on the podium.

One of the tools I like the athletes I work with to have is a power statement. A power statement is a tool to use when doubt comes at critical moments. It floods the mind with positive, strong thoughts and instantly squeezes out any negative thoughts and emotions.

After the prequalifying races, this athlete was in fourth place. She attended to all of the media obligations, family commitments, and so forth and then came over to talk to me. This is the conversation that transpired:
Athlete: “I don’t think today is my day.”
Me: “Really?”
Athlete: “There is a ton of media here and a lot friends and family. I don’t think today is my day.”
Me: “Yeah, you just stink, don’t you!”
Athlete: “What?”
Me: “Well, is that the right mindset?”
Athlete: “Oh, right. I need to remember my power statement.”

She told me after the event that when she had gotten on the chairlift to go up for her finals run, the doubt had gotten in again. She began telling herself, “It’s okay. No one expected me to do this well. My family will still love me.”

She then caught herself and said, “No! Today is my day! I am making it happen today!”

She told me she was feeling good mentally while being processed for her run. And then, while standing in line only two athletes away from her turn, the doubt came in again: “It is okay. No one expects me to—”

This time she was mad. She got out of her skis, walked out of the starter’s box, and yelled up into the mountain, “Today is my day! I am making it happen today!”

I could see her determination as she came back into the starter’s gate. She put on her skis and grabbed her poles with purpose.

This athlete ended up skiing faster than she had ever skied before. She was farther on the front of her boots, she got bigger air, and she finished tied for first place. Two days later she backed up her performance with a second-place win.

This athlete, who only six months earlier was called a guinea pig, went to the Vancouver Olympics as the number-two mogul skier in the world and as our top U.S. mogul skier. All of this happened because she applied the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Lance loved a lot of things about being five years old. He loved being old enough to help with the lambs on the farm. He loved giving his first talk in Primary. And he loved looking out for his three-year-old brother, Gabe.
Gabe wanted to be big like Lance. When Grandma asked Lance to pick beans in the garden, Gabe got a basket and went along. When Lance swept out the chicken coop, Gabe found a broom and helped. When Lance started humming a song, Gabe hummed along too.
One Sunday Gabe looked really excited as he came out of Primary.
“Guess what?” he asked Lance. “I’m supposed to give a talk, just like you did!”
During the week, Gabe practiced telling a story about Jesus blessing the little children. Lance watched his brother hold up the pictures at just the right moment. When Gabe forgot some of the words, Lance helped him out. On Sunday morning, Lance said a special prayer with Gabe that his talk would go well.
Finally the time came for Gabe to give his talk.
“He looks scared,” Lance thought as he watched Gabe walk to the podium and step in front of the microphone. Gabe’s eyes opened wider as he saw all the children there. Suddenly it seemed like he was frozen. Not a word came out of his mouth.
“Poor Gabe!” Lance thought. He watched nervously from the second row until he couldn’t sit there any longer. He stood up and walked to the microphone, placing his arm around Gabe’s shoulders.
“It’s all right, Gabe. You can do it. Remember the words?” Lance whispered. After another second of silence, Lance took a deep breath. He knew that his brother needed his help.
“Today I’d like to share the story of Jesus blessing the children,” Lance began. He had heard the talk so many times during the week that he knew every word. As he spoke, he kept looking over at Gabe. Little by little, Gabe relaxed. When Lance got to the last sentence, Gabe leaned toward the microphone.
“Jesus loves all of us,” Gabe whispered. “In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Lance looked down at Gabe and smiled. Gabe smiled back. He had given his first talk—with some help from his older brother.

I was visiting with a neighbor’s family that had traveled to Salt Lake City for the holidays. I asked how they liked their ward in their distant city, and Hanna said, “Cary likes it, but I don’t. Sister Jack, I’m having a hard time. I’m the only Hispanic in the ward, and they are not friendly to me. They ignore me in the hallways, and sometimes I don’t go at all.”

My heart went out to this usually happy and gregarious woman. I said, “Be patient with them. Maybe you are there to help them learn understanding, and it will take time.”

Sometimes our pattern and response to difficulty is to circumvent the situation rather than to step back and try to learn from it. We become immersed in the circumstances and lose sight of the long-range goal. A better approach is to do what we can, being “steadfast and immovable in keeping the commandments” and carrying in our hearts the assurance that the Lord is with us and that our patience will turn the tide.

I was 12 years old when my dad was called to serve as a mission president in Mexico. It was fun to be in a new country, but I was also sad to leave so many friends and family members, especially when Christmas came around.
In my homeland of Argentina, all of my extended family would gather together for Christmas, and I was sad that we wouldn’t get to be there. But I decided I was going to be open to creating new traditions and memories. After all, I love new adventures.
Because my sister and I were on Christmas holiday, we accompanied my parents on a tour of the mission. Seeing all the missionaries, I realized I wasn’t the only one who was going to be celebrating Christmas far away from home and family. That year, I learned that no matter where we are, the most important thing to do on Christmas is remember our Savior. The missionaries were dedicating their time to the Lord, and I thought that was one of the best things to be doing during this time of the year.
For the next three years, my family created new traditions, and my favorite one soon became spending Christmas Eve with the missionaries. We would sing and listen to Christmas songs while we made blankets to give to people in need. Our night was based on service and remembering Jesus Christ. I will never forget spending Christmas in Mexico and how close I felt to God.
Sofia S., Buenos Aires, Argentina

Miriam looked at the floor. “I think I goofed,” she said. “I didn’t come up with a good idea like the others.”
“I’m sure you did fine,” Mom said. “Please tell us what you did.”
“Well, I didn’t eat my Popsicle,” began Miriam. “I saw Tony on his front porch. I said, ‘Hi,’ but he didn’t say anything. Then I remembered that he had his tonsils taken out Monday. That really makes your throat hurt. So I gave my Popsicle to him, and I sat by him and told him stories and jokes until I saw everyone else coming back here. When I left, he still didn’t say anything, but he smiled.”
“Miriam,” said Mom, kissing her, “that was a good idea. You made someone just as happy as Benjamin and Johnny and Katie did. In fact, now we have a problem.”
“What?” asked the children.
“I don’t think I can decide which idea was best. They were all wonderful.”

A couple of years ago I got into drinking. I drank as kind of an experiment. Around here there isn’t a lot to do so my friends all drink and party. I wanted to be like them, I guess. After I started drinking, I felt almost hopeless. At first I thought I was happy, that I was having fun, but I realize I was miserable. I thought, what’s the point in trying to change? I just didn’t feel worthy.
I really love football, and one day after practice I came home to find my mom sitting there. We talked about my drinking, and she called the school. I was suspended for a couple of games. That was a really big kick in the head for me—I realized I needed to change.
My family and some people in my ward helped me and made me feel loved. As I went through the repentance process, I gained a strong testimony of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. It’s so amazing to feel how much Heavenly Father loves us. It’s just crazy to me that He would send His Son to die for me when I mess up so much. You can always call upon Heavenly Father no matter what, and He will be there for you if you are willing to try and change.
I’m so much happier now than I was when I was drinking and partying. The gospel just brings you so much happiness if you turn to God and strive to improve yourself. It’s totally worth it.
Jens P., 18, Illinois, USA

“On the first day we asked our reading and writing students what they wanted to study after they had completed the course, and they all said they wanted to read the scriptures. One of my students in Cacalotepec also said she wanted to learn how to read so she could lead the singing better. In fact, there were three other song leaders from Cacalotepec who had all come to learn so they could better fill their Church callings.
“At our farewell party each of us bore testimony to our thankfulness and love for the people. One girl got up and with almost uncontrollable tears thanked us for the work we were doing. She told us that we were making her branch better. She said that you can’t progress if you can’t read the scriptures and the words of the prophets. Then she expressed her amazement that we would come here on our vacations and work with the people when we could stay home and have an enjoyable time. Words just couldn’t express to her how much we had learned and gained from her village and that it was the best summer vacation I have ever spent.”
Betty LeiningerGreenbrae, California

Photo illustrations by David Stoker
The reverberating dance music echoed loudly down the church hallway into the lobby where I sat with a set of scriptures open in my lap. I could hear the other youth laughing and socializing in the cultural hall, and I knew that somewhere down there the handful of young men from my small branch were catching up with old acquaintances.
I was the youngest person from my branch there and was still fairly new to Church dances. I wanted to meet other LDS youth and wanted to dance with some of the young women from my stake, but I always felt too out of place and self-conscious. So, I sat in the lobby.
This wasn’t my first dance, either. I’d been to a handful before, and some of the older young women had even asked me to dance, but that only made me more self-conscious. A hundred personal flaws would rush through my mind, and I knew that they were just being nice to the new kid. I felt that no one really wanted to dance with me.
That’s why this time I decided to stay in the lobby and leave them to enjoy themselves without worrying about me. Several times youth leaders and others from my branch tried to convince me to join the activity, but using the scriptures as a shield, I argued that I was happier studying the scriptures, idly reading about the bravery of Nephi, Captain Moroni, and the stripling warriors without putting their examples into practice. I went home that evening feeling miserable and alone.
At subsequent dances, I began to notice something when I went to the gym: as slow songs were played, most of the young women would sit down and remain seated until the next fast song. Though the more confident young men asked some girls to dance, they always seemed to pick the same two or three young women (generally from their wards). This meant that most of the girls sat through the slow songs watching from the sidelines.
I don’t remember exactly when the dance challenge first came about, but a couple of the young men from my branch decided that the young women should be able to dance to the slow songs. The challenge was simple: Ask a different young woman to dance for every slow song, and never sit out a dance.
Taking strength from the stories of Nephi, Captain Moroni, and the stripling warriors, I took the challenge to heart. For every dance after that, I did what I could to ensure that every young woman at every dance would have the chance to dance.
I started by asking any young women who were away from the center of the dance floor or who were from wards or branches that didn’t appear to have any young men there. I often had enough time to ask some girls twice, having danced with every young woman at least once.
Because of this goal, I had the opportunity to get to know dozens of incredible young women over the years, and a girl declined to dance with me on only two or three occasions.
The last youth dance I attended was held immediately after seminary graduation. I looked around the small gathering and noticed the faces of dozens of young women I’d danced with during the last three years. I felt grateful for the experiences I’d had, so I began the dance challenge again for one last time, inviting many girls to dance. Some of the young women were new, but most were now old acquaintances.
As one young woman eagerly jumped up to dance with me, I remembered the first time I’d asked her to dance three years before. I’d been very intimidated to ask her, because she was very beautiful, modest, and mature, and it seemed to me that if any young woman deserved to dance with someone better than me, then it would be her.
As we talked about our plans for college and careers during that last dance, she changed the topic very abruptly.
“I just want to tell you thank you,” she said with a sincere smile.
Caught by surprise, I croaked out a confused response: “For what?”
“When I first started coming to these dances,” she said, “no one would dance with me or the other girls from my branch. I really wanted to get to know other LDS people, but I’m shy. So I would sit in a chair and wait and wait, but none of the boys would ever ask. It was so humiliating that one time, while sitting and watching other people, I vowed that I would never come to a Church dance again.
“That was just before you asked me to dance for the first time. Because of that, I came to the next dance, where you asked me again. I kept coming to dances these past few years because I knew that even if no one else would ask me to dance, you would. So, thank you.”
I found myself at a loss for words. This amazing daughter of God, whom any young man should be honored to dance with, had experienced the same struggles I’d felt while sitting in that lobby.
I realized that all my fears hadn’t been anything to worry about and that by applying the principles of courage, faith, and consistency, I was able to bring happiness into both my life and into the lives of those around me.

Seventh, don’t complain. Life isn’t always fair. That’s a fact. But it’s always charged with marvelous opportunities if you know how to find them. I remember once when I was working as hard as I knew how. I happened to be working for a man who took all of the ideas and suggestions and work that I did and passed them on to his superior as though they were his own suggestions. For a while I was really upset about that. As I pondered it, a thought came to me, and I decided from then on I would write reports to him of everything that I was doing or trying to do, and I sent a copy to his boss. He didn’t like that, but it worked beautifully.

At the age of 16, Judy Potter’s hobby, letters to pen pals throughout the world, brought something quite unique to her home in Coventry, England.

“I had pen friends in many faraway places, like Trinidad, Australia, and Hong Kong,” says Judy, “but the country which fascinated me most was America. When the International Friendship Association sent me the name of Tammi Fawcett (now Gilson) from Utah, I was thrilled.”

Judy soon found out Tammi was a Latter-day Saint. “My curiosity was roused,” Judy admits, “and I asked plenty of questions. She always had plenty of answers.”

But the most exciting event for Judy was a gift Tammi sent—a one year’s subscription to the New Era.

“I was absorbed from the first copy,” Judy says. “In fact, I’ve never stopped renewing that subscription. I was having all sorts of problems in my life, and every story, or article, seemed just for me.”

She smiled, adding, “Like adjustment into the adult world after leaving school that year. I felt so small and helpless. The New Era helped me realise each person is unique, with a definite purpose in life.”

One day she was reading about an activity called Mutual. “I immediately wrote asking Tammi what it meant,” Judy continues. “As soon as her reply came, I telephoned the Coventry Chapel to ask more. The custodian invited me down that night. Much to my own surprise (for I was terribly shy then), I agreed to go.”

Judy describes her introduction to the Church with peaceful satisfaction. “It was such a special feeling,” she says, “like fitting exactly. I’d been brought up to believe that the Church of England was a good place to go, but was never encouraged to attend, so my desire for religion always hovered below the surface.”

Judy was so touched by the welcome and love received from Coventry Ward members, young and old alike, that her confidence rose and progress flourished.

After three months of lessons from sister missionaries, she was baptised. One month later, her parents too entered the waters of baptism.

When Judy wrote to Utah, telling Tammi of her new happiness, rejoicing spread from one side of the Atlantic to the other.

I had an interesting experience two or three years ago as I was assigned to the West Texas Region. The stake president there had a son who played football in high school, and I’d like to tell you that in Texas they take their football seriously. They take Texas seriously, as a matter of fact, and I learned many things there.

I happened to attend a game with the stake president where his son played in one of the quarter-final games for the state championship. (They eventually won the state.) I noticed an interesting thing before the game: both teams came out on the field, knelt down, and had prayer. You have to understand that Texas is in what is sometimes called the Bible Belt. There are many Baptists and Disciples of Christ, and it’s not uncommon to find towns in Texas that close entirely on Sunday and bar the sale of liquor, even though they’re not Mormon communities.

Well, our team won the game, and after the game the other team didn’t have much to pray about. Our team again knelt down on the field and had another prayer, and before they prayed all the high school students in the stands poured out on the field and joined the team. They covered nearly a fourth of the field, and they all joined in that prayer. I thought it was an impressive example. I can’t tell you how sincere they were, but I would assume that they meant what they were doing and they were grateful for their blessings.

We may not necessarily use that means to demonstrate our faith in Christ, but we ought not to be behind others in our positions as true witnesses of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Alissa Hunsaker shared one example on this week’s discussion board, and I have invited her to share this experience with you:
I was at the grocery store with my three-year-old in the cart and my baby in a carrier on my chest. My shoe was untied, and I kept tripping on it again and again. I was trying to tie my shoe without waking up my baby, and I just couldn't reach. A stranger walking by thought I was trying to pick something up and offered to help. I sheepishly said, “No, thanks. I’m just trying to tie my shoe.” He knelt down and tied my shoe then wished me a good day and moved on. It was a little thing, but it meant so much to me. It reminded me of the Savior washing His apostles’ feet. I learned that the Lord is always mindful of us, and that He often shows His love for us through the service of others.

We answered that a quorum is a group of priesthood holders who rely on each other and stick together. The instructor explained that quorum members have a responsibility to help and lift each other. He then showed us a video about a ward in Florida that started with just one young man who invited his friend, who then invited a friend, who then invited a cousin, etc., until there were 26 active young men in the ward.

The first departure came as the result of a revelation Joseph Smith received in Missouri in July 1838, commanding that the Twelve, recently riven by the apostasy in Kirtland, be organized again and expand upon its assigned task of proselyting by going to England. They were to “take leave of my saints” in Far West the next April 26 on the building site of the temple.18 But before that time came, Joseph and many of the leaders had been jailed, leaving Brigham suddenly in charge of a desperate winter exodus back across the state to Illinois. The Governor’s extermination order was in effect, so enemies of the Saints were openly boasting that they would kill anyone who tried to fulfill “Joe Smith’s prophecy” about the Twelve leaving for England from Missouri.
Some of the Saints who were gathered in Quincy, Illinois, argued that in their persecuted condition surely the Lord would not require them to fulfill his word to the letter, but Brigham had been learning from Joseph the value of something more important than practical expediency. He knew the value of energetic, even dangerous, effort and sacrifice in keeping faith with the Lord and His prophet, and he knew the value of great example in motivating faith in the Saints. The three other apostles in Quincy agreed with Brigham that “the Lord God had spoken and it was our duty to obey and leave the event in his hands and he would protect us.”19 The four traveled back by carriage, picking up apostle John E. Page (who was still bringing his family out of Missouri) on the way and meeting Heber Kimball in Far West, where he had been in hiding awaiting them. Heber recorded that the Lord cast a deep sleep on the town.20 They met while it was still dark (Brigham was practical as well as courageously faithful) on the morning of April 26, ordained Wilford Woodruff and George A. Smith apostles, thus providing a minimum Quorum of seven to do business, directed the laying of a token stone for the foundation of the temple, and “took their leave … agreeable to revelation.”21

It was Christmas Eve. We had just gotten our new pajamas, a tradition in our family. The kids played Christmas music and everyone danced around. No one was grumpy; everyone was happy, smiling, and having fun. Knowing that I was expecting another child, I was thinking about how much I loved our family, about how excited I was to have one more child on the way.
Then I felt a distinct impression. The Spirit whispered to me that one of our family members wouldn’t be with us next year.
Later that night, as my husband, Tim, and I were putting gifts under the tree, he told me that he had felt an impression earlier that evening that one of our family members wouldn’t be with us for our next Christmas Eve. I told Tim I had received the same impression.
Before we left on a post-Christmas trip to visit family out of state, Tim talked to our children about being safe while we traveled. We were troubled by the thought of losing a family member on our trip, but we felt reassured that all would be well. We traveled, had a great visit with family members, and returned home safely.
Soon it was time for my regular prenatal checkup. The doctor delivered sad news. An ultrasound confirmed that the baby had died two weeks before the visit.
As Tim and I drove home, devastated, we realized that two weeks before had been Christmas Eve. We don’t know exactly when the spirit enters the body, but Tim and I feel that our baby got to be with our family, if only for a moment, on that Christmas Eve with everyone dancing around and being happy. We felt so much joy, and we feel the baby was a part of it. When he left us, we believe he became the member of our family who wouldn’t be with us the next Christmas Eve. I believe that someday we’ll get to see our baby again. I’m grateful for the peace that brings to me.