Gospel Story Finder

Later, the bishop met with me again to let me know that the disciplinary council would be reconvened. I felt nervous and a little scared, but I knew it was worth going through. Since I had met with the bishop the first time, I had been feeling joy like never before. My perceptions had started to change, and I found myself loving life, family, and friends so much more. I had experienced some difficult days when I wondered how I could ever spend the rest of my life without beer, but on most days I could feel hope building inside me.
I was nervous partly because one of the bishop’s counselors was the father of my son’s friend, and I feared that after hearing about my sinful past, he would not want his son to play at my house again. I resolved that if he did feel that way, I would respect his wishes. No obstacle would stand in the way of what had become the most important thing in my life: coming back into full fellowship in the Church.
The night for my disciplinary council finally came. As I knelt in prayer with the members of the bishopric, I felt strongly the influence of the Spirit, as well as an indescribable brotherly love. Those men hadn’t known me long, but I knew they cared about me and loved me. Nevertheless, when my son’s friend’s father hesitated before speaking, I thought he was trying to find a way to say his son couldn’t play with my son anymore. Instead, he said: “I just want you to know how impressed I have been with your son and your family. You must be good parents to raise such a boy.”
At the end of the meeting, the bishop said, “You are a worthy member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” I felt great joy upon hearing those words.
When I returned home, I wanted to laugh and cry and tell my family everything, but everyone was asleep. So I prayed to Heavenly Father, thanking him for his love and kindness, for honorable men who act as righteous judges, for family and friends who helped me along the way, and for all the other blessings I have in my life.

All the boys have had instances where their physical strength was useless, and they were glad they could rely on the spiritual strength they had built up.

“When my dad had cancer, we weren’t really sure what was going to happen. We prayed a lot, and the Lord helped us through it,” Jake says.

“Prayer always helped,” agrees Sam. “That’s why we did it so much.”

The story is told there of the grandfather who took his five-year-old grandson for a walk around town. Ultimately, they found themselves at a small grocery store on Main Street where they stopped for a cold soda pop. A car from out of state pulled up and the driver approached the old-timer. Pointing to a small cloud in the sky, the stranger asked, “Do you think it’s going to rain?”
“I certainly hope so,” replied the old man, “if not for my sake, for the boy’s. I’ve seen it rain.”

On the day before Valentine’s Day, Elder Ronald A. Rasband gave a devotional address titled “What’s Not to Love?” at Brigham Young University–Idaho.
He taught that “love of God embraces both the Father and the Son” and motivates us to become true disciples: “To love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength is life’s curriculum in becoming a true disciple. It is no lukewarm, casual effort with spotty results. … When your love of God consumes your service, interests, priorities, and affections, you are blessed, and joy attends those blessings.”2

One of the more dramatic examples was the organizing of a wheelchair olympics.
On the day agreed upon, patients wheeled excitedly from place to place as they marked out a course for the coming events. Wheelchairs were lined up at a starting line, while occupants leaned forward, intently waiting for the starting signal. The signal was given, and they were off in a flurry of wheels and laughter. After a breather and an untangling of wheels, patients were given a chance to challenge another wheelchair. Don looked around, and pointing his finger at one of the chairs, said, “I challenge that chair.”
“Don, you can’t do that,” the astonished attendant replied. “That chair has a motor!”
The competitive young man was undaunted and remained firm; so a course was set and an eager audience waited expectantly for the signal to begin this most unusual race. Soon the signal was given and Don’s hands fairly flew as he propelled his chair toward the finish line. When he had gained full momentum, he ventured a cautious look toward his opponent, only to discover that he was shifting to a higher gear! To complicate matters further, a woven wire fence was stretched a few short feet behind the finish line.
With the heart of a champion, Don ducked his head and gave it everything he had. He crossed the line only inches ahead of his opponent and crashed happily into the wire fence. He was picked up and dusted off amid excited expressions of admiration. He had won!

On a snowy Friday night, I was driving home from a friend’s house. As I was driving, I was prompted to pull over to the side of the road, and without much thought, I did. But after a moment, I began to wonder why—I didn’t see any danger ahead.
At church I had been taught about recognizing promptings from the Holy Ghost, and I never felt a prompting as strong as this, but I still wasn’t sure if the feeling came from me or from the Spirit.
After sitting in my car for about 10 seconds, I decided to continue home. The streets looked clear. Then, out of nowhere, a group of deer jumped into the road ahead of me—about 10 seconds away at my previous speed. If I had not stopped when prompted, I believe I would have hit the deer, totaled my car, and probably been hurt.
After this experience, I realized what a blessing it is to have the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost. I am grateful that the Holy Ghost not only warns us but also comforts and teaches us.

Another missionary told me that when he graduated from high school he was offered $30,000 a year to play professional baseball. He refused the offer so he could go on a mission.

Mother sat back and started the amazing story of a little boy and his mother who was very ill. “Gobo was a three-year-old boy in 1857. His mother knew that she was dying and could no longer care for him, so she tucked him into the branches of a tree on the Talbots’ property. Ruth Talbot soon found the starving boy and gently coaxed him from the tree. Tired and cold, little Gobo climbed down and into the arms of his new mother. The entire Talbot family cared for Gobo as one of their own.
“When the family was taught by Mormon missionaries and joined the Church, they had a strong desire to follow President Brigham Young’s counsel to join the Saints in America. The Civil War was starting, and it was dangerous to bring Gobo to America because he was black. When the ship’s captain refused to allow Gobo on the boat, Henry Talbot knelt and asked for Heavenly Father’s guidance. He knew that Gobo would not be able to take care of himself if left behind.
“An idea came to Brother Talbot—his prayer was answered! He would roll Gobo into a large rug and smuggle him on and off the ship. Gobo was afraid to be wrapped inside the dark, heavy carpet. However, he had faith in the prophet’s counsel to go to America, so he remained very still and quiet. No one knew of the precious treasure tucked away in the old, faded rug.
“Once in America, Gobo was excited to start his new life there. He wanted to meet the prophet and see the temple that the missionaries in Africa had told him about.
“The family journeyed mostly by train. At one station, they were startled by an angry mob boarding it. Someone had told them that a child slave was being smuggled through. Gobo was not a slave, but the mob would not have believed it.
“Quickly Sister Talbot lifted her large hoop skirt and hid him underneath. Gobo pulled his knees tightly against his chest and held his breath until the mob left and his mother took him upon her lap. She reminded him that he was a child of God and explained that their home with the Saints in Utah would be a place of acceptance and love for their entire family, including Gobo. She assured him that their fellow brothers and sisters in the gospel understood what it was like to be persecuted and judged. Surely they would not turn Gobo away.
“Sister Talbot was right, and as soon as they could, the Talbots adopted Gobo.
“Once in Utah, Gobo grew into a righteous, hardworking sheepherder. He was always faithful to his baptismal covenants. In 1886, when a tablet of paper cost two cents, he willed his entire life savings—some five hundred dollars—to help build the Salt Lake Temple. Years later, the temple work was done for Gobo and he was sealed to Ruth and Henry Talbot in the very temple he helped build.”

These are not guys who brag about themselves. But someone else in the quorum will tell you that when Marcus Lunt won the Texas state high school tennis championship in 2004, “He went 16-0. Undefeated.” Others will tell you that Chad Warner played a big part in winning some games for the high school basketball team last year. They will tell you that Brent Davis looks like a standout at catcher for the high school baseball team. Ronny Rodriguez, who enjoys soccer and rugby, is focusing on debate and the Spanish honor society in school this year. Stephen Weatherholtz, an accomplished musician, stands out in the high school choir.
Stephen’s focus on music was a deliberate choice when he began high school, even though as a lifeguard he is athletic and enjoys some sports. “Music to me is everything about feeling,” Stephen says. Ask him what kind of music he listens to, and he will name tunes by performers from almost every category. But, “On Sunday I listen to completely different music than I do on a weekday.” It is sacred or classical. “It gives me more of a feeling that Sunday is sacred.”

Things will be different this year, I thought as Christmas was approaching. We had been confined to our home for nine months, and there was uncertainty what would happen later. What could we offer our children during these special days? In the Dominican Republic, the Christmas season is celebrated from the beginning of December until January 6, culminating in an iconic celebration of the “Dia de los Reyes” that commemorates the arrival of the three wise men to the manger where the Savior of the world, Jesus Christ, was born.
I told the children that during Christmas we would not be able to spend time with their grandparents. We would stay home; we would have our Christmas dinner by ourselves, and everything would be fine. My mother heart was beating very hard as I promised my children the same thing that Jesus promised His disciples when He ascended into heaven.
Christmas day arrived, and we prepared our traditional dinner with a lot of love and with the restrictions established by the government and health authorities. Despite all my worries and sadness for not being able to spend time with our relatives, the Lord prepared a way so that, even when distanced, we could be together. Technology played a leading role, and we could see our family in various parts of the world. We felt a spirit of gratitude and kindness knowing that no matter where we are or what situation we are going through, even in the midst of a pandemic, our Heavenly Father cares for each of His children.
Sister Estrella belongs to the Villa Esfuerzo Ward, Santo Domingo Dominican Republic El Almirante Stake.

Many times while growing up I was the lone person looking in. During those times I longed for someone to invite me to join them in whatever they were doing. Everyone has the need to feel loved and accepted. I never realized this until I was almost finished with high school.
Elder Reed Shewell, 20Korea Seoul Mission

There were two young boys returning home late one afternoon. It was getting dark, and they should have been home earlier. Knowing they were in trouble, they decided to save a little time and take the shortest way by going through a pasture. The boys were well aware they should not go into the pasture. The property was posted with “no trespassing” signs because of the presence of a large, mean bull. It was getting dark, and since the bull was in an area of the pasture where he couldn’t see the boys, they decided to attempt the shorter way. After they had crawled under the fence, and were about halfway across the pasture—at the point of no return—the bull spotted them and charged in their direction. The boys began running, but one of the stopped and said, “Wait, let’s kneel down and pray for help.” The other boy said, “If you want to stop and kneel down and pray, you do it, but I’m going to run and pray.”
Whether it is talents you desire to develop or gospel standards you want to live, I believe you have to develop this kind of faith in order to be successful. It’s something more than just saying you have faith. You have to work for it. You have to live for it. You have to do all you can, as the little boy did when the bull was after him. He ran as hard as he could. You have to be worthy of it and then develop that eye of faith. It has to be firmly planted in your mind. You must know what you want to do, and how you will do it.

As a young man attending college, Ezra Taft Benson met a beautiful, intelligent young lady named Flora. The first time he met her, he felt that he would one day be the girl he would marry. Ezra T. admired Flora’s quick wit and lively, intelligent mind. A returned missionary himself, he waited for her to fill a mission, and eventually won her love and her hand in marriage.

Elizabeth “Buffy” Tateoka Fairbanks of Holladay, Utah, loves serving others, and she always wanted to work in the medical field. But by the time she graduated with a degree in biology, she realized medical school wasn’t for her.
Then she discovered a 15-month accelerated nursing program that seemed a perfect fit. Still, she would need help with tuition expenses. Buffy looked into scholarships and found that the military offers tuition assistance programs for those on active duty as well as for those who finish their military service.
“I decided to join the Navy because my husband, Tom, is already in the Navy. He received a scholarship to pay for his degree in mechanical engineering,” she says. After discussing the idea with him, and making it a matter of fasting and prayer, Buffy applied for and received a scholarship “to help me get through nursing school and become a registered nurse.”
Buffy was accepted into the Nurse Candidate Program. “I wasn’t required to do anything but go to school and pass my state licensing exam after graduation,” she explains. “But once I graduated, I was commissioned in the Navy Nurse Corps.”
Nursing school, Buffy discovered, emphasizes critical thinking skills and ways to apply those skills as a nurse. “It was exciting to come through the program knowing how to help save people’s lives,” she says. “I enjoyed learning how to care for patients and getting to know them as individuals.”
The thought of serving in the Navy appealed to Buffy’s sense of adventure as well as her desire to serve others. “In addition to getting help to pay for my schooling, I also knew the Navy would provide opportunities for experiences that I otherwise wouldn’t have.”
Serving in the military means time away from home and family. Fortunately, Buffy and her husband are stationed near each other and they can be together. Even during times of separation, the Internet helps them communicate with each other frequently.
They also know how important it is to rely on their testimonies of Jesus Christ to repel Satan’s temptations. She says, “We are all faced with adversity throughout our lives, and sincere prayer and staying in tune with the Spirit are important to keeping us on the right path, and also help us when we have difficult decisions to make.”
Buffy knows that faith and prayer are important in choosing educational and career paths—and in life in general. She knows that for her, choosing to join the Navy and become a nurse helps fulfill her desire to serve others.

April was here at last. The all-night study sessions and final exams were over and most of our belongings packed into a closet in the old house we had lived in for the past year. Tearful see-you-in-Septembers echoed through the empty rooms as we locked the front door. My roommate, Lanell, and I lugged our bursting suitcases through the slushy snow and into the yellow Renault.
“What a dumb time for a snowstorm,” Lanell grumbled, slamming the car door shut.
“Oh well, we’ll soon be winging our way to Europe,” I consoled, reminding her of our exciting summer plans. We had schemed all year for this two-month vacation, and because we were trying to save money by driving to Chicago and flying from there, it looked as though this sudden spring snowstorm might threaten our plans.
I switched on the radio. Another weather bulletin, this time with bad news. “All interstates in Utah are closed,” the deejay stated blandly. “Students are advised to remain in Provo until further notice.”
“No way,” I declared. “A little snow won’t stop this Canadian!”
I pulled out the road map, and Lanell and I discussed all the alternative routes. We finally chose one that went south of Provo and then east into Colorado. Since it wasn’t an interstate and didn’t seem to be too mountainous, we reasoned that it would be open and fairly safe.
We headed out as the last rays of sunlight filtered through the gray storm clouds and disappeared over the top of the western range of mountains. It was a bad time to leave, I knew, but we were anxious to be on our way.
I drove cautiously on the snow-packed highway and wasn’t too alarmed when snow began falling. We soon noticed, however, that the highway was ascending into the mountains. Lanell checked the map and to our dismay found, in tiny print, the mountain pass we thought we wouldn’t have to cross. To make matters worse, the storm had increased in fury, the snowflakes splattering so thickly on the windshield that the wipers could barely keep up. As the wind howled through the canyon, I realized that conditions were perfect for a blizzard. We considered returning to Provo for the night but were encouraged by the steady stream of cars creeping toward us on the highway.
“They made it over the pass so we will too,” we told each other.
“And the other side probably won’t be so icy,” I said, trying to sound confident. Inside, I was beginning to wonder what we’d gotten ourselves into.
The road was now glare ice and we were steadily climbing. I grasped the wheel lightly as I’d learned to do on icy roads, but as the minutes passed, I felt a knot growing in my stomach and perspiration dampened my ski jacket. I wanted to turn back now but could find nowhere to do so safely. And what would Lanell think if “this Canadian” turned back? On the other hand, what would the downhill side be like, and would I have the nerve to drive it? I mentally tightened my grip on the wheel, silently begging the Lord to help us. If ever I needed a guardian angel, it was now.
Somehow, we reached the summit and I nearly shouted for joy at what I saw in the bright yellow beam of the headlights. Parked across the road, blocking the traffic, was a pickup truck, and standing beside it, a stocky man in a cowboy hat, coveralls, and a heavy parka. He was waving a flashlight, signaling for the cars to turn around and go back.
“The road’s closed. You kids would never make it down the other side,” he said, prying my hands off the steering wheel and kindly suggesting that he turn the car around for me.
As we headed back in the direction we had come, we alternately laughed and cried and prayed. We now knew the truth about all the cars that supposedly had made it over the mountain. All those cars had simply turned around and were coming back as we were now doing. How foolish we had been to ignore the weather warnings and how foolish were those in the approaching cars. Now that the storm had abated somewhat, we could see the ribbon of their lights for miles as we drove carefully down the mountain.
“Bet they’re thinking the same thing we did,” Lanell said with a grin. I grinned back, but silently I wondered, How many times do we make decisions without knowing the whole picture? How many times do we ignore the warnings? And how many times do we continue to tread dangerous paths just because it appears as if everyone is doing it?
We reached Provo late that night, and though I was shaken by the experience, I was grateful for the many insights it had given me. That Utah mountain pass and the angel in the cowboy hat who said it’s never too late to turn around, and who offered to help, will remain forever in my memory.

Even at a very young age, children can feel the influence of the Holy Ghost. I remember a family home evening in which tears started streaming down the cheeks of our five-year-old daughter, Chanel. I thought her brother, Christopher, might have pinched her or something, so I asked, “Chanel, why are you crying?” She answered, “Daddy, I feel so happy.”
I can’t remember what the family home evening lesson was about, but I stopped and said, “Chanel, what you’re feeling is the power and influence of the Holy Ghost.” She replied, “Yes, Daddy, I know that is true.” Like Chanel, you can feel the happy, peaceful feeling, which will tell you when something is right or true.

Moeaki began art while attending Liahona High School in Nuku’alofa, Tonga. He once placed third in a Danish international art competition, and later gained a bachelor of fine arts from BYU-Idaho in the United States. He has been teaching art for the last nine years at his alma mater, Liahona High School.
Moe works in oil, acrylic and watercolour and describes his art as abstract expressionism. He is most interested in drawing things that are “beyond the veil.”
“I had some near-death experiences when I was a child, which have influenced me. When my father was a mission president, he asked me to do a drawing of the plan of salvation as a missionary tool. . . . It really fired my imagination to think about what it is like beyond the veil.”
His selected work is a tapa collage and acrylic on cardboard entitled, “All Are Alike unto Christ.” A unique feature of this piece is that it includes a strip of tapa cloth.
“Tapa is a very important part of Tongan culture. Newborn babies are wrapped in it, brides and grooms wear it on their wedding day and caskets are draped with it at funerals. It literally is the fabric of our lives,” Moeaki says. “To me, it is an actual veil between this life and the spirit world so it’s important that it is included in my art.”
In his painting, tapa separates our mortal life and a heavenly existence. Beyond that veil, ministering angels are depicted eager to reach out and bless those in times of great need.
“All are alike unto God. . . . We all long for peace, love, and comfort,” Moeaki says, “we all feel that we are being ministered to by the Saviour and His angels in times of need.”

Yesterday I had an interesting experience. There has been talk lately in some circles about ordaining women to the priesthood, and someone asked me how I felt about holding the priesthood. I said very stoutly, “I love holding the priesthood when he comes for dinner.” I know that isn’t very original, but that was my answer. Now with this release from sweet but demanding service, I have every intention of being there when my fine husband comes home and our precious family members gather.

Masha is a missionary to her friends. She has told many of them about the Church, and she stops by and gets her nonmember friend Dasha on the way to church each Sunday because Dasha has no one else to go with.

There were 5,000 copies of that first edition, made possible in their printing by the generosity of Martin Harris, who mortgaged a farm to pay for them. Last year there were 1,643,000 copies of this same book printed and distributed in English alone, with a total distribution in all languages approaching 3,000,000.
Notwithstanding his problems, I have a great feeling of love for Martin Harris, who pledged the security of his lands to make possible the printing of this sacred record. It was an act of faith which has borne sweet fruit—the fruit of conversion and testimony and love for the Lord—in the lives of many millions over the earth. I am grateful for the repeated urging of our prophet of this day that we read this sacred record with a promise that in doing so we shall draw nearer to the Lord.