Gospel Story Finder

We sustain 15 men who are ordained as prophets, seers, and revelators. When a thorny problem arises—and they seem only to get thornier each day—these 15 men wrestle with the issue, trying to see all the ramifications of various courses of action, and they diligently seek to hear the voice of the Lord. After I fast, pray, study, ponder, and counsel with my Brethren about weighty matters, it is not unusual for me to be awakened during the night with further impressions about issues with which we are concerned. And my Brethren have the same experience.
The First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve Apostles counsel together and share all the Lord has directed us to understand and to feel individually and collectively. And then we watch the Lord move upon the President of the Church to proclaim the Lord’s will.
This prophetic process was followed in 2012 with the change in minimum age for missionaries and again with the recent additions to the Church’s handbook, consequent to the legalization of same-sex marriage in some countries. Filled with compassion for all, and especially for the children, we wrestled at length to understand the Lord’s will in this matter.
Ever mindful of God’s plan of salvation and of His hope for eternal life for each of His children, we considered countless permutations and combinations of possible scenarios that could arise. We met repeatedly in the temple in fasting and prayer and sought further direction and inspiration. And then, when the Lord inspired His prophet, President Thomas S. Monson, to declare the mind and will of the Lord, each of us during that sacred moment felt a spiritual confirmation. It was our privilege as Apostles to sustain what had been revealed to President Monson. Revelation from the Lord to His servants is a sacred process, and so is your privilege of receiving personal revelation.

King Darius, who put Daniel in the lion’s den (see Dan. 6), wrote his records on gold and silver sheets and placed them in stone boxes and buried them in the ground for safekeeping, just as Moroni did. His records now have been translated and published. To make certain someone would be able to read them, Darius wrote in three different languages.

Elder Ronald A. Rasband and his wife, Sister Melanie Rasband, visited Cape Verde. It’s a beautiful country made up of 10 islands off the coast of Africa.
Elder Rasband visited a school for young children. Many don’t have parents to care for them. They lined up to shake his hand. Elder Rasband loved that because he and Sister Rasband have 27 grandchildren!
They also visited a farm. Members of the Church are learning to raise pigs and other animals there so they can support their families.
People were excited to hear Elder Rasband speak. It was the first time an Apostle had visited their country. A temple is now being built in the capital city, Praia!
“God loves you. The Savior loves you.”
—Elder Ronald A. Rasband

The first congregation of the Church of Jesus Christ in Brisbane was formed on 30 August 1896, only a few years after the first missionaries arrived in Brisbane. The handful of Saints gathered in rented halls for their Sunday meetings.
By the turn of the century, membership had grown to 130, so property was obtained in 1904 to build a chapel. Construction began in late September and was completed on 3 December 1904. The first meeting in the new Gibbon Street chapel was held the very next day.
For the next 54 years, the building was the centre piece of the Church in Brisbane. The baptismal font was the only one is Queensland, so families came from all over the state to be baptised.
The Camp Hill building was completed in 1957, and the last meeting held in the Gibbon Street chapel was 3 August 1958, the end of an era.
Members who attended for years said that while the building was quite ordinary, the name, Gibbon Street, inspired nostalgia for all who met there. There was a sense of community and kinship among the early saints.
In June 2003, the Brisbane Australia Temple was dedicated at Kangaroo Point. The temple can be seen as a lasting testament to the Gibbon Street pioneers. The documentary closes with the appropriate tribute, “They built it well to the glory of their God.”

When the first COVID-19 lockdown was implemented in May, Paisley Stake director of communication, Douglas Yates foresaw that a Scottish government requirement to wear face masks may be imposed on most people as they went about their daily lives.
Using good local contacts, he persuaded six local community organisations, including The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, to donate to procurement funds to allow him to source and purchase fabric, elastic, tape and thread.
Cotton fabric, elastic and thread was sourced from a Glasgow supplier and purchased as they were needed over a five-month period. Volunteer sewers were recruited locally, including some Latter-day Saints, and production of various coloured face masks began. The goal was to produce a sufficient number of good quality, 100 percent cotton face masks which were washable and reusable, at a very modest cost, making them affordable to all families. The price point was set at £1 for a pack of two face masks.
The face masks went on sale at the end of May and by the end of September, when demand waned, more than 5,000 face masks had been bought by local families. Money raised through the sale of the masks was donated back to three charitable organisations which have outreach programmes to help others.
An evaluation of the initiative by the volunteer arm of East Renfrewshire Council judged the face masks initiative to have made a valuable contribution to the community and to have been a great success.

As the girls get older, their parents give them the choice about continuing with their performing. Vanessa says, “My mom tells us we can either quit or keep going and they will support our decision. We decided to keep going. It’s lots of fun.” The girls decided to continue with both their classical lessons and their fiddling performances and competition.

When Princella was looking for a Personal Progress project, she didn’t have to look far. In her own branch was a humanitarian aid missionary, Sister Thompson, struggling to teach English to the town’s adults. Since most people in Nsawam don’t speak any English and Sister Thompson doesn’t speak the local Twi dialect, she was having a difficult time communicating with her students.
Enter Princella, who learned English in school and speaks the four regional dialects, including Twi. She was perfect for the job. She could communicate with everyone.
“The project of helping in the literacy class came to my mind when I got to the knowledge value,” said Princella. “At first I felt it was too much to go stand in front of my mothers and fathers [the adults of her town] and teach them English. For the first and second week, it was not easy because they felt I was there to make a mockery of them, but then I had the opportunity to explain myself.” After that, things went smoothly, and communication between the teenage teacher and adult students was much more effective.
After completing her project, Princella considered leaving the class but decided against it. She says, “The literacy class is very interesting, and I never want to leave.” Princella continues to serve with love, remembering that those who serve others also serve God.

Emmeline M., age 6, Aomori, Japan
One day I wanted to sit by a bully at school to be friends with her. She yelled at me to go away. I wanted to get her back with my words. But I held my tongue and said, “It’s OK. I’ll sit by someone else.” When I walked away, I felt good for what I did.

In an Italian fishing village a few years ago a shower of sardines fell from a cloudless sky. Abandoning their boats, the fishermen hurried ashore and gathered their “catches” from the beach and quayside!

Mamãe? I said something mean to my friend today. Now I feel terrible.
Wait, I know! I can just get baptized again! Then I will be all clean.
You don’t need to do that. You can repent right now and be forgiven. And when you take the sacrament, you can promise to do better!
Can we say a prayer together? I want to tell Heavenly Father I’m sorry. And I’ll tell my friend I’m sorry tomorrow.
Of course.
That Sunday …
I’ll try harder this week to be kind! I know Heavenly Father will help me.
Illustrations by Katie McDee

Many times I have puzzled over why I should be called as an Apostle and then as the President of the Quorum of the Twelve in spite of having come from a home where the father could be termed as less active. I am not the only member of the Twelve who fits that description.
Finally I could see and understand that it may have been because of that circumstance that I was called. And I could understand why in all that we do in the Church, we need to provide the way, as leaders, for parents and children to have time together as families. Priesthood leaders must be careful to make the Church family-friendly.
There are many things about living the gospel of Jesus Christ that cannot be measured by that which is counted or charted in records of attendance. We busy ourselves with buildings and budgets and programs and procedures. In so doing, it is possible to overlook the very spirit of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Too often someone comes to me and says, “President Packer, wouldn’t it be nice if … ?”
I usually stop them and say no, because I suspect that what follows will be a new activity or program that is going to add a burden of time and financial means on the family.

SÃO PAULO, BRAZIL—Elder and Sister Helvio and Laura Bertoli of São Paulo are currently serving their fourth mission in the São Paulo Temple. They were among the first workers there when the temple was dedicated in 1978. Since then, they have served one mission as managers of temple housing and two other missions as temple workers. They are remembered by temple patrons for their untiring, good-humored service. The couple feels that their experience has been so rewarding that they really can’t call it a “sacrifice,” but instead a great privilege and blessing in their lives.

My initial feeling of peace stayed with me for another week and a half. I was sitting in a wheelchair watching fireworks through the hospital window on the Fourth of July when it hit me—my mom was gone. She wouldn’t be at my high school graduation. She wouldn’t be there when I received my endowment in the temple. She wouldn’t be at my wedding. She was gone.
That’s when things started getting really hard. The pain in my leg was terrible, and I had no appetite. I watched TV without seeing it, and I mostly just slept. My family worried about me because I wasn’t crying very much.
The tears came a lot more when we finally went home to Oregon to an empty house. I suddenly had to take over some of my mom’s responsibilities, and my siblings often looked to me for comfort. I tried to be strong for them. But it wasn’t easy.
Going back to school was tough. Everyone had heard about the accident, and if they hadn’t, they heard about it when my teachers introduced me as the girl who was in the accident. I felt isolated.
It was especially hard when my dad remarried nine months after my mom died. I knew that my stepmom would be good for our family and that we needed her, but it was hard to adjust.

One of the exciting opportunities which comes from the general conference for me is to arrive a little early and have the privilege of walking through the aisles of this great Tabernacle, greeting the conference visitors as they are here assembled. You discover that this is truly a world conference.
Even though some speak a different language, there is another way to communicate, for quickly you discover, as you shake a hand, look into the eye of someone from a different land, there is a common bond, there is a brotherhood and a sisterhood which knows no national boundaries.
We have frequently addressed ourselves in this conference to the country in which the headquarters of this church is located. When this occurs, I watch with interest the faces of those who hear this message through an interpreter. I have detected more than just a courteous attention. There is a genuine interest and understanding. And I guess this is right, for as I study history, there appears to be a common theme, which is played over and over.

In October 2008 I listened to the conference talk by Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin (1917–2008) about being able to laugh when things go wrong. I don’t really want to do that because I feel embarrassed when I make a mistake. However, one day while at school, our class was asked to dance during the P.E. lesson. I started dancing cheerfully, but then guess what happened? I tripped! I remembered Elder Wirthlin’s advice, and I laughed.

Years ago when Sister Nelson and I had several teenaged daughters, we took our family on a vacation far away from telephones and boyfriends. We went on a raft trip down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. As we started our journey, we had no idea how dangerous this trip could be.
The first day was beautiful. But on the second day, when we approached Horn Creek rapids and saw that precipitous drop ahead, I was terrified. Floating on a rubber raft, our precious family was about to plunge over a waterfall! Instinctively I put one arm around my wife and the other around our youngest daughter. To protect them, I tried to hold them close to me. But as we reached the precipice, the bended raft became a giant sling and shot me into the air. I landed into the roiling rapids of the river. I had a hard time coming up. Each time I tried to find air, I hit the underside of the raft. My family couldn’t see me, but I could hear them shouting, “Daddy! Where’s Daddy?”
I finally found the side of the raft and rose to the surface. The family pulled my nearly drowned body out of the water. We were thankful to be safely reunited.
The next several days were pleasant and delightful. Then came the last day, when we were to go over Lava Falls, known as the most dangerous drop of the journey. When I saw what was ahead, I immediately asked to beach the raft and hold an emergency family council meeting, knowing that if we were to survive this experience, we needed to plan carefully. I reasoned with our family: “No matter what happens, the rubber raft will remain on top of the water. If we cling with all our might to ropes secured to the raft, we can make it. Even if the raft should capsize, we will be all right if we hang tightly to the ropes.”
I turned to our little seven-year-old daughter and said, “All of the others will cling to a rope. But you will need to hold on to your daddy. Sit behind me. Put your arms around me and hold me tightly while I hold the rope.”
That we did. We crossed those steep, rough rapids—hanging on for dear life—and all of us made it safely.

Digger, you silly dog! You’re as bad as a bull in a china closet! Outside you go!
The next day …
Mama …
Yes, sweetheart? Why, you’re crying! What’s wrong?
You know the vase that Digger broke?
I sure do. I love that animal, but he doesn’t know his own strength.
Digger didn’t break it, Mama. I did. I was pretending to carry water from the well like the Bible women. I’m sorry. I knew that I wasn’t supposed to play with it.
I’m proud of you for telling the truth. That’s another thing that Bible women did, and it’s even more important than carrying water.
Later …
And that’s why you should always tell the truth.

Following my release from my first mission in 1923, I returned home to Whitney, Idaho, on Christmas Eve. It was a joyful reunion with my ten brothers and sisters, and especially with my father and mother.
Father and Mother always made it a practice to hang the stockings, one on each chair, for the children and to place their limited gifts on or under or near each chair. They took me into their confidence that Christmas Eve. We stayed up all during the night. In fact, we didn’t retire at all. We filled the stockings after going to the granary and elsewhere on the farm to get the presents which had been secretly hidden. This took a good part of the night. The rest we spent in visiting together, with Father and Mother telling me of the progress made by each of the children while I was away, and with me reporting to them and responding to their questions regarding my wonderful mission to the British Isles. My love for my parents had never been quite so great before as it was that night.
It was a happy morning. I could not hold back the tears as I watched with pride the reactions of my six brothers and four sisters and the loving expressions of my noble parents as they watched their posterity partake of the Christmas spirit and as they felt of the unity which prevailed in our family circle.
(December 1988, p. 21.)

The news filled us with deep sorrow. Despite our grief, Liliana and I had to travel to Peru to retrieve Sergio’s body and personal belongings. We had difficulty thinking clearly, so we were grateful that someone from the Church—from the moment we left our home until we returned—was there to help us. We also received help from the Holy Ghost, who comforted us and helped us endure. We never felt alone.

Dedication of the Conference Center on Sunday, 8 October 2000, included a cornerstone ceremony conducted by President Gordon B. Hinckley at the building’s southeast corner about an hour before the morning session of conference.
Those waiting outside the new building’s southeast doors at 8:45 a.m. were surprised when members of the First Presidency, the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, the Senior President of the Quorums of the Seventy, the Presiding Bishop, and the Relief Society, Young Women, and Primary general presidents walked out of the doors to participate in the ceremony. The crowd looked on in quiet reverence as President Hinckley explained that the cornerstone is symbolic of the Lord Jesus Christ, who is the cornerstone of the Church.
A stainless steel time capsule previously placed within the cornerstone box contains numerous items, including a triple combination signed by the First Presidency, a small beehive replica made from the same walnut tree as the Conference Center podium, information about and pictures of the building’s king truss, a hard hat used in the building’s construction, April and October 2000 issues of the Church magazines, and photos of the first ticket holder to enter the Conference Center for general conference.
“We now declare the Conference Center finished and complete. God bless this great and marvelous building,” said President Hinckley after Church leaders placed mortar around the cornerstone.
Some 30,700 people attended the morning session. In addition to the Conference Center’s 21,000-seat auditorium and 900-seat theater, congregations filled the Tabernacle, the Assembly Hall, and rooms of the North Visitors’ Center and the Joseph Smith Memorial Building, spilling over to the outside grounds of Temple Square and surrounding areas. Millions more participated via the Internet and satellite in their homes and in Church meetinghouses throughout the world.