Gospel Story Finder

A young man came to see me recently who had been called by the Lord to fill a mission. He was a fine young man—handsome, strong, sharp—but he said he didn’t want to go on his mission because there were other things that he would rather do. As we visited he told me that one thing he would rather do was drive a dune buggy. We talked about the relative merits of trading eternal life for a dune buggy; and he decided, perhaps, that was not exactly a fair exchange. I suggested to him that if he still wanted to drive a dune buggy after he had filled his mission, the Lord would probably let him do so, since the Lord always grants unto men “according to their desire.” (Alma 29:4.)

I want to share with you a challenge in my family, but first I share with you my favorite quote of all time: “I have a missionary, and I plan on waiting for him.” That was the first thing my beautiful wife, Euleza, said to me on our first date, and it changed my life forever. Five minutes later we were holding hands (we think our kids put our hands together), and yes, we did wait for her missionary to get home, but I won the prize. She has brought great happiness in my life. She has always been extraordinary as she strives to live like our Savior by loving those around her and sharing of her light.

The last 18 months have been a challenge in Euleza’s life, and consequently mine and our whole family’s. She has had neck pain for a few years. We have known she would need surgery. It was time, and the surgery went well, but pain remained in her shoulders. Doctors tried different things and had very little success. I felt helpless. Then in December of last year I came home from church to find her on the floor. She was so dizzy she couldn’t make it back to bed. We both thought this was a short-term thing. But as the days turned into weeks, her pain and dizziness didn’t leave. Finally, both her shoulders were operated on and it relieved some of the pain, but still the feeling of not being well continued. Three weeks later her gallbladder was removed. We both felt the strain of this and discouragement. Trips to the ER and doctors who were all trying to help didn’t seem to be helping. Thoughts of “Why her?,” “Why us?,” and “We can’t continue this way” came. We had many ministering angels that helped immensely, family, support from friends at work, and two stakes helping us and praying for our wellbeing. It is humbling, and we thank so many for the prayers and greats acts of love that have meant so much. But discouragement was getting in. One Sunday morning after another trip to the ER the night before, I went upstairs to be alone and knelt and talked with Heavenly Father. I wanted to ask Him for a deal—that if I worked harder he would make Euleza better. In the end I just told Him I appreciated everything I have been given. I felt peace knowing priesthood blessings had been given to Euleza and that we have so many praying for her.

My good brothers and sisters, I don’t tell you this so you can feel sorry for us—we are doing well enough—but I want you to think of challenges you might be having and what you are to learn from them. I have learned a lot and felt new emotions during this time. I developed confidence to allow me to deal with these new emotions and difficulties. I also know that new experiences, including difficulties, will continue, but I understand now they are meant to shape me, and I am better equipped to handle future challenges. Important things I have been taught all my life were put to a test and I learned it is okay to get discouraged, but it is up to me to react appropriately and mold myself as I experience challenges in my life.

Elder Ashton was the last General Authority called by President David O. McKay. Elder Ashton said he never forgot the moment. He was invited to President McKay’s apartment. “I found him advanced in years and a very weak man in physical strength. As I sat with him in the privacy of his study, his body was frail, his voice was soft, words did not come easily. … He finally said in a still voice of perfect mildness, ‘I want you to help me.’
“After leaving his office, I felt that I had a better understanding about the Savior’s calling of his associates. Whether it be on the shores of Galilee or in the shops or paths of life, I’m certain that his invitation could have been nothing more than, ‘I want you to help me in proclaiming the gospel and being special witnesses to and for me.’”

As you approach old age, you will face new challenges to self-mastery. Symptoms of the deteriorating body can be painful, even disabling. Deep aches of sadness are caused by the departing of loved ones. For some, these deepening trials come early in life. But when yours are thrust upon you, remember a concept expressed by my father some time after my mother had passed away. Your grandparents had been married for sixty-four years. When someone asked how he was doing, my father simply stated, “I’m lonely, but I’m not lonesome.” Do you know what he meant? Though he was now without his sweetheart, he was so busy assisting family and friends, he had replaced sorrow with service and had displaced self-pity with selfless love. He had found joy in following the timeless example of the Master.

About 12 years ago, I emigrated with my wife and four sons from the Republic of Korea to New Zealand. While working as a vice principal at a Korean school in New Zealand, I met many Koreans who struggled to adjust to the new culture and to the new policies and procedures. I wanted to help them as well as contribute to New Zealand, so I thought that becoming a lawyer would be one way to bridge the two peoples and countries. So, after praying to confirm my decision, I decided at age 53 to attend law school.
I knew it would be challenging. But when I received the course manuals, I realized that it would be much harder than I expected. Each course manual appeared too thick, and the contents seemed beyond my comprehension. Even though I had helped interpret from English to Korean for general conference for almost 10 years and had finished a master’s degree in linguistics in New Zealand, legal terms seemed to be a completely different kind of English.
When I came home from school the first day, I had to consider seriously whether I should continue or quit before I started. During that time of uncertainty, one thought stood out: I could succeed if I relied totally on the Lord.
Because I know God lives and answers our prayers, I asked Him for help. I remembered one scripture in the Bible that gave me great relief: “For with God nothing shall be impossible” (Luke 1:37). That scripture gave me strength to move forward.
Along with the difficulties of being an older student and a nonnative English speaker, I had other responsibilities that made it challenging to complete the program. My work, community obligations, and Church callings took a lot of my time, and I also tried to give my most important responsibilities as a husband, father, and grandfather the care and attention they needed. When one of my colleagues learned all I had to do in addition to my studies, he said it was crazy for me to study law in view of all my other obligations. However, I had the conviction that “the things which are impossible with men are possible with God” (Luke 18:27).
At the age of 55, I was admitted to the bar as a solicitor and barrister at the High Court in New Zealand. I am grateful that I not only became a lawyer in spite of the language barrier but also gained a stronger testimony that God lives and answers our righteous prayers. I know that nothing is impossible with His help.

When I was 17 years old, it was time for me to prepare to serve a mission. I had my interviews with my bishop, and in one of them he asked me if I had a testimony of the restored Church of the Savior Jesus Christ.
I began to meditate and simply shared with him the things that I had heard from the other members of the ward when they shared their testimonies. Then I realized that I had never prayed for myself to know if the gospel was true. I was born in the covenant, but when it came time to prepare for my mission, I realized that I was simply active in the Church out of custom or tradition.
I made it a goal to study The Book of Mormon every day and to pray to my Father to find out if it was true. Time passed, and I didn’t feel any answer until I got to the last chapter of the Book of Moroni, verses 3 through 5, which say:
“Behold, I would exhort you that when ye shall read these things, if it be wisdom in God that ye should read them, that ye would remember how merciful the Lord hath been unto the children of men, from the creation of Adam even down until the time that ye shall receive these things, and ponder it in your hearts.
“And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.
“And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things” (Moroni 10:3–5).
I was concerned because I had already finished the whole book and didn’t feel like I had received any response. In my neighborhood there was so much noise that the windows in my room were vibrating, I knelt down and prayed the most sincere prayer I have ever prayed in my life, and I begged my Heavenly Father to help me know if the Book of Mormon was true and if the Prophet Joseph Smith was a true prophet and if this was His Church.
With tears in my eyes and a very warm feeling in my chest, I felt how everything around me fell silent, and I heard the voice of the Spirit testifying to me that it was true. Since that day, I am a totally different person, and I have a solid and firm testimony thanks to my Heavenly Father.

To begin with they were all in the same ward, but then the wards were split. Melissa ended up in one of the new wards, and Marny and Nancy were in the other.
“After they split the wards, and we figured out who wasn’t going to be where, we all started crying,” Nancy remembered.
But there were still chances to get together. There are plenty of excuses in this beautiful land, whether on river, bayou, lake, land, marsh, swamp, or sea.
And if none of those places work out, there is one even better spot. Sometimes on a Sunday morning when they get a little lonely for one another, the three friends get together at church. “Sometimes I just stay and go to their ward’s meetings after mine are over,” Melissa says. “And sometimes they’ll come early and go to mine before going to their own.”

When I was a very young bishop in 1950, there was a tap at my door, and a good German brother from Ogden, Utah, announced himself as Karl Guertler.
He said, “Are you Bishop Monson?”
I answered in the affirmative.
He said, “My brother and his wife and their family are coming from Germany. They are going to live in your ward. Will you come with me to see the apartment we have rented for them?”
On the way to that apartment, he told me he had not seen his brother for something like thirty years. Yet all through the holocaust of World War II, his brother, Hans Guertler, had been faithful to the Church—an officer in the Hamburg Branch.
I looked at that apartment. It was cold; it was dreary; the paint was peeling from the walls; the cupboards were bare. What an uninviting home for the Christmas season of the year! I worried about it and I prayed about it, and then in our ward welfare committee meeting we did something about it.
The group leader of the high priests said, “I am an electrician. Let’s put good appliances in that apartment.”
The group leader of the seventies said, “I am in the floor-covering business. Let’s install new floor coverings.”
The elders quorum president said, “I am a painter. Let’s paint that apartment.”
The Relief Society representative spoke up, “Did you say those cupboards were bare?” They were not bare very long with the Relief Society in action.
Then the young people, represented through the Aaronic priesthood general secretary, said, “Let’s put a Christmas tree in the home, and let’s go among our young people and gather gifts to place under the tree.”
You should have seen that Christmas scene when the Guertler family arrived from Germany in clothing that was tattered and with faces that were drawn by the rigors of war and ­deprivation! As they went into their apartment they saw what had been in actual fact a transformation—a ­beautiful home.
We spontaneously began singing, “Silent night! Holy night! All is calm, all is bright” (“Silent Night,” Hymns, 2002, no. 204). We sang in English; they sang in German.
At the conclusion of that hymn, Hans Guertler threw his arms around my neck, buried his face in my shoulder, and repeated over and over again those words which I shall never forget: “Mein Bruder, mein Bruder, mein Bruder.”
As we walked down the stairs that night—all of us who had participated in making Christmas come alive in the lives of this German ­family—we reflected upon the words of the Master: “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Matthew 25:40).

All Church leaders influenced me to some degree. A brother in my ward taught twenty or more of us in a Sunday School class. The whole class was socially and spiritually active, and we had great respect for our teacher. When my wife and I attended his fiftieth wedding anniversary many years later, most of the members of that class came to show their love and respect. Many of us felt that he had made a significant difference in our lives—not just because he was a good teacher, but because he took a personal interest in each one of us.

The Empty Pot by Demi The Emperor had given each child a seed. “‘Whoever can show me their best in a year’s time,’ he said, ‘will succeed me to the throne.’” At the end of the year, all the other children had pretty flowers to show the Emperor. Only Ping had an empty pot. But Ping was chosen to be the next Emperor—because of his honesty! Truly beautiful art illustrates this truly beautiful Chinese tale.

The enthusiastic young people of the Cleveland First Ward, Huntington Utah Stake treated the senior citizens in their ward to a Red Carpet Honor Night. The Young Men, dressed in suits and ties, first delivered an invitation to each home. Then on the night of the activity, they served as chauffeurs and escorts; they drove to each home, rolled out the red carpet, and escorted their guests to the meetinghouse. There they seated the elderly members of their ward and served them a delicious meal prepared by the Young Women.
After dinner, the senior ward members were seated in a semicircle at the front of the auditorium. They were each given an opportunity to tell how they arrived in the community, what life was like when they were growing up, and how they met their companions. They also answered questions from the audience, offered several good words of advice to the youth, and thanked them for a wonderful evening.

Let me share the story of one of our most beautiful hymns, “Where Can I Turn for Peace?”
The poetess, Emma Lou Thayne, struggled for three years to help her oldest daughter through a severe mental illness. She’d done everything she could to find peace and help for a diagnosis she knew little about, calling it the “bleakest time I had ever known.”
In the midst of that heartache, Sister Thayne was asked by the Church to write music for a youth conference. One day, she retreated to a quiet room in the basement and penned these pleading, sacred words (in part):
“Where can I turn for peace?
Where is my solace
When other sources cease to make me whole? …
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand?
He, only One.
He answers privately,
Reaches my reaching
In my Gethsemane, Savior and friend.
Gentle the peace he finds …
Constant he is and kind,
Love without end.” [18]
After writing those beautiful lyrics, Sister Thayne called her friend Jolene Meredith and asked her to compose the music. Sister Meredith had battled mental health struggles of her own. “She understood every word I’d written,” Sister Thayne recalled. “She sat at her piano … and as I read a line, she composed a line. By noon, we had our hymn.”
The two women privately referred to it as the “Mental Health Hymn”—and the Gethsemane they were both thinking of… included the mental suffering and emotional anguish that the Savior took upon Himself for all who suffer. [19]
What I love about this story is how these faithful women used their suffering for good!

And healing came from ministering to others in their loss—be they refugees in Europe, the abused or oppressed, or fellow Church leaders like Elder Paul V. Johnson of the Presidency of the Seventy, who had lost a daughter to cancer two months before joining Elder Kearon in the Europe Area Presidency in 2015.
“He and Sister Kearon were wonderful in helping us in that grieving and healing time,” Elder Johnson says. “They were so sensitive to our situation. I’ve always loved them for that.”

Wendell M. Smoot, president of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, was in his office that day, April 29, 1991, talking about the upcoming June 8 Tabernacle Choir tour to middle Europe and Russia.
He was basking in the assurance that though the tour had not yet begun, he knew everything was going to be all right, that the tour was going to be a success.
“Let me tell a remarkable story,” he said. “As in any such tour, you have to sign ahead of time your contracts for the airlines that will fly you to your destination, the halls where you are going to perform, the hotels where you are going to house and feed 510 people. It is customary to have certain payment dates at stated intervals, with some contracts requiring very heavy payments. The date of February 7, 1991, became a very important date, because on that day we had to put down a substantial amount of money. Late in January, I began to be very concerned.
“Do people remember what was going on in the world at that time?” he asked. “The air campaign against Iraq had started on January 16, a projected ground war was imminent, and fear of terrorism and hostage-taking was prevalent all over Europe. Individuals and organizations were canceling various plans and events due to the fear associated with the war. The people abroad with whom we were making arrangements feared that we, too, might cancel out.
“So, on Friday, February 1, I called President Gordon B. Hinckley of the First Presidency, the man I report to. ‘President, I need to see you,’ I said. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Come on over.’
“I went over and laid it all out to him. I then said, ‘President, the reputation of the Church is at stake if we cancel and this war stops soon. You can imagine what will be thought of us if we default on all our obligations, after pleading and begging to get into these prestigious concert halls and getting the promoters behind us. On the other hand, how tragic it would be to blindly go and put at risk all these people, their lives and their families. President, if there is any possibility whatsoever that the First Presidency would think of canceling this trip, I need to know now because of the big amount of money we need to put down Thursday, February 7. President, I’m here to get counsel.’
“The weekend passed, and on Monday morning I called and said, ‘President, I wonder if you have made a decision with the First Presidency concerning the matter I discussed with you last Friday.’
“President Hinckley said, ‘Wendell, I have thought about little else since you were here.’ There was a moment of silence. Then he said, ‘I will say this. The choir will go to Europe this coming summer. The war will be over.’
“I said, ‘President, that’s all I needed to hear.’ At the conclusion of our conversation, I took steps to fulfill our financial commitment, and we moved ahead.
“That day was February 4. The ground campaign of that tragic war didn’t start until February 24! And after it did start, the fighting ended with a cease-fire on February 28.
“But from those two conversations, I learned that this tour that we are about to go on is ordained of the Lord, that the Lord wants this tour. He wants us to go, and we will go and be preserved and be successful because this is a call from the Lord.”
The day was April 29—still forty days before the Tabernacle Choir’s scheduled departure.

In a recent stake conference, the Lord’s tender mercies were evident in the touching testimony of a young wife and mother of four whose husband was slain in Iraq in December of 2003. This stalwart sister recounted how, after being notified of her husband’s death, she received his Christmas card and message. In the midst of the abrupt reality of a dramatically altered life came to this good sister a timely and tender reminder that indeed families can be together forever. With permission I quote from that Christmas card:
“To the best family in the world! Have a great time together and remember the true meaning of Christmas! The Lord has made it possible for us to be together forever. So even when we are apart, we will still be together as a family.
“God bless and keep y’all safe and grant this Christmas to be our gift of love from us to Him above!!!
“All my love, Daddy and your loving husband!”
Clearly, the husband’s reference to being apart in his Christmas greeting referred to the separation caused by his military assignment. But to this sister, as a voice from the dust from a departed eternal companion and father, came a most needed spiritual reassurance and witness. As I indicated earlier, the Lord’s tender mercies do not occur randomly or merely by coincidence. Faithfulness, obedience, and humility invite tender mercies into our lives, and it is often the Lord’s timing that enables us to recognize and treasure these important blessings.

When Sister Staheli and I left Utah, en route to the University of Illinois with everything we owned contained in our little car, we were excited about embarking upon a new adventure. We had tried to be diligent in keeping the covenants we had made in the temple as a part of our marriage of about one year.

As we became fully engaged in our new life as a happily married but financially struggling couple, we lost focus on one important—in fact, essential—commandment of the gospel. As we approached the end of the year and tithing settlement, we had not only slipped on paying our tithing but were literally without food money for the last week of the year.

As we sheepishly and humbly approached our branch president at tithing settlement, he taught us an important lesson in financial management. More important, he gave us a phenomenal promise.

He promised that if we would make up the tithing owed to the Lord and then faithfully pay it each month before we addressed our other needs and wants, the Lord would bless us as promised. In fact, he promised us that as future faithful tithe payers we would have an increase in income each year thereafter. That came true—and stayed so, until my call as a Seventy. The Lord truly did open the windows of heaven and pour out blessings to us.

My wife and I had been raised by faithful tithe-paying parents. We had been full-tithe payers throughout our youthful years. Yet this came as a poignant lesson of how becoming casual on important principles can cause one to lose focus on what is really essential to the Lord.

Dana was born with a hole in her lips and inside her mouth. She had already had four operations to try to fix it. Today Dana and her parents had an appointment with the doctor to talk about another operation.
During the operation, we will take part of the bone from your hip to use in your mouth.
Dana was worried about what would happen after the operation.
Can I still drink chocolate milk?
When your mouth heals, you can have all the chocolate milk you want.
The night before the operation, Dana’s dad and uncle gave her a priesthood blessing. Uncle Hyrum anointed Dana with consecrated oil. Then Daddy said the blessing.
The next morning Mommy and Daddy took Dana to the hospital.
The nurse came to take Dana to the operating room. Dana gave Mommy a hug.
I love you, Dana.
Don’t worry, Mommy. I’m not afraid. Daddy gave me a blessing.
After the operation Dana was all right. She was glad that Daddy gave her a special blessing to help her feel better.

There are no quick fixes here. Like children, we’ll need to persevere and celebrate small improvements. Children who have learned to be survivors may at first rebuff those who try to help them. I am reminded of Dale, a third grader I had in Las Vegas who took three days to accept a pair of shoelaces.

On the first day I told Dale I had an extra pair of laces he could have. I told him I had noticed his sneakers coming off when he kicked the ball or ran the bases.

“Nope,” he replied. “I like my shoes this way.”

One the second day he asked, “Teacher, do you still have those shoelaces?”

When I answered yes, he said, “Well, I still don’t want them.”

On the third day he said, “Teacher, I guess I’ll take those shoelaces, but I don’t really need them.”

I said, “You’re welcome to have them.”

Julio looked at the new black and white soccer ball. He turned it carefully in his hands and ran his fingers along the seams.
“Do you like it?” Tia (aunt) Maria asked.
“Sim (yes),” Julio answered, still not believing the ball was his. “But why are you giving it to me?”
Tia Maria laughed. “Because you help me so much,” she replied. “You run errands for me and help me clean my yard. You have earned more than a ball, but this is all I can give you. I hope you’ll enjoy it.”
Julio looked at his tia. He knew she didn’t have much money, and he wondered if he should accept such a big gift from her. But her eyes told him that she would be hurt if he did not take the ball.
“Obrigado (thank you),” he said softly.
“All I ask is that you always remember why it is yours,” Tia Maria told Julio. “Now go play.”
Julio thanked his tia again as he rushed out into the spring air. He rolled the ball over and over in his hands, wondering what Tia Maria had meant by, “Remember why it is yours.”
But the thought soon left when Julio noticed the budding trees. Spring meant soccer with his friends, and this spring he had his very own soccer ball!
Julio dropped the ball to the ground and skillfully kicked it down the cobblestone sidewalk as he ran.
“Hey, where did you get the new soccer ball?” Antonio asked as he came out of his house.
“Tia Maria gave it to me.” Julio replied proudly.
“That’s great! Can I play with you?”
“Sure!” Julio answered.
Antonio and Julio kicked and rolled the ball back and forth. Before long others joined them, and soon there were enough boys to start a soccer game.
Tia Maria watched from her apartment window, and Julio could see her out of the corner of his eye as he played.
Julio loved to play soccer and he was good. Someday he hoped to play on the national team of Brazil. Tia Maria knows that, he thought. Maybe that’s why she gave me the ball.
But the thought vanished as the ball came his way. Skillfully he maneuvered it with his feet toward the imaginary goal, never touching it with his hands. As he neared the goal, he kicked the ball and sent it sailing through the air and into the goal to score.
“Good work!” Antonio shouted. “We’re ahead now!”
For a while a younger boy watched shyly from the sidewalk. Then he slowly walked over to where the group of boys was playing.
“Oh, no,” Antonio whispered to Julio. “Paulo is coming! Don’t let him play! He always messes up the game. We’ll lose if he plays!”
It was true that Paulo was not a good player. He often lost the ball to the other team, and on several occasions he had even run for the wrong goal. But Julio knew how much Paulo liked to play.
“Can I play?” Paulo asked hopefully.
Julio looked at the other boys and started to say no. Then he glanced at the window where Tia Maria was standing. Her face was drawn tight in a concerned expression as she too waited for Julio to answer.
“Remember why it is yours.” Her words came to Julio’s mind. Once more he looked at Tia Maria. He had shared his time and efforts to help her, and he wondered if she were trying to tell him to keep sharing.
Julio looked away from the window and then turned to Paulo. “Sure, you can play,” he said. Before anyone could say anything, he added, “As a matter of fact, Antonio is a good player, and he’ll help you learn more about the game.”
Paulo’s face lit up with a smile. “You will?” he asked eagerly.
Antonio looked at Julio and then he too smiled. “Sure, I’d be happy to! We’ll all teach you to be a great soccer player!”
As they began to play again, Julio glanced up at the window. Tia Maria was smiling as she nodded her head. Julio waved at her before he continued playing the game.
Suddenly he knew why Tia Maria had given him the new soccer ball.

But as I thought about how much God had helped me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wanted to do more to share His gospel with others. I considered serving a mission—but what if I lost everything I had worked so hard to build?
One Sunday, I prayed and fasted about serving a mission. God had helped me know which path to take in my life before, and I trusted He could help me again.
I attended church with my cousin in a ward far away from where I lived. I was surprised to see a sister missionary there who I had befriended a year before. I knew it wasn’t a coincidence that I had run into her while I was fasting.
After church, I shared with her my fears about losing all the things that were going well in my life. My friend said, “I was in a similar situation before my mission. Everything felt too perfect to leave. But I knew the Lord wanted me to serve.”
After our conversation, the impression to serve grew stronger. I felt that Heavenly Father was helping me know once again which path to take—I just needed to act and trust Him. So, the next day, I started to work on my mission application.