Gospel Story Finder

When Sister Kapp gave this talk, she called Gail Gardner, a 17-year-old Laurel, out of the audience to tell what the scriptures mean in her life.
Do you have a favorite scripture?
Yes. One of my favorite scriptures, one that has really helped me, is found in the Book of Mormon in Mosiah 4:27. It talks about man not having the need to run faster than he has strength, but that if he will be diligent, all things will come to him. That scripture helps me because I’ve always been really busy and have wanted to be actively involved in a lot of different things with family, church, and school.
A specific incident with that scripture happened just awhile ago. I was preparing to compete in a big speech tournament and was facing college entrance exams. I’d just been called to serve on our seminary council and was worried about responsibilities there. I also have one brother and six sisters that I really care about, and I wanted to spend time with them. I read through that scripture and others like it which said that all I needed to do was to set a pace for myself and keep up with it. I felt that my Father in Heaven had answered my prayers in that scripture.

The most effective missionaries, member and full-time, always act out of love. I learned this lesson as a young man. I was assigned to visit a less-active member, a successful professional many years older than I. Looking back on my actions, I realize that I had very little loving concern for the man I visited. I acted out of duty, with a desire to report 100 percent on my home teaching. One evening, close to the end of a month, I phoned to ask if my companion and I could come right over and visit him. His chastening reply taught me an unforgettable lesson.

“No, I don’t believe I want you to come over this evening,” he said. “I’m tired. I’ve already dressed for bed. I am reading, and I am just not willing to be interrupted so that you can report 100 percent on your home teaching this month.” That reply still stings me because I knew he had sensed my selfish motivation.

I hope no person we approach with an invitation to hear the message of the restored gospel feels that we are acting out of any reason other than a genuine love for them and an unselfish desire to share something we know to be precious.

If we lack this love for others, we should pray for it. The prophet Mormon’s writings about “the pure love of Christ” teach us to “pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ” (Moro. 7:47–48).

Two missionaries asked a new family to kneel in prayer, and the senior companion, not knowing why, asked the husband to move over by his wife and take her hand. He hesitated, and the missionary simply said, “That’s what my mom and dad do at home. Please take your wife by the hand.”

After they were baptized, the husband and wife tearfully confessed that they were on the verge of divorce when they met the missionaries. The husband had already moved out of the home. He was just there to visit the children when the missionaries appeared. The husband said that as his hand touched his wife’s, a healing spirit came over them. Love replaced the wounds and the misunderstandings; they forgave each other, and the husband came home.

Dressed in their homemade, bright yellow, tie-dyed shirts, the young women of the Concord Second Ward in Walnut Creek, California, raised their flag of virtue after hiking to the top of nearby Mount Diablo.
Following an inspiring fireside focused on the importance of virtue, each young woman took a strip of yellow fabric and wrote her pledge of virtue on it. Then they tied all the strips of fabric to a discarded tree branch. The next morning, the young women carried their banner on a hike around the summit of Mount Diablo, hoisting it high as a standard to the world at a point overlooking their homes in the valley below. The young women linked arms, symbolizing their unity in following the standards of the gospel and in their love for each other and for the Savior.
Beehive Morgan March said, “As we stood together as a group of Young Women, it made me feel grateful for all of the girls who had the same values as me. As we go through hard times we always know that there are people with our same standards.”

So off I went, to Seoul, Korea. I made the decision not to worry about weight lifting while I was gone—I would concentrate on serving the Lord. One thing lifting had taught me was that the loss of concentration can lead to failure. You lose your concentration, your goal disappears from your mind, and you never reach it. So I decided to put all the powers of concentration I’d learned in the gym to use in the mission field, and it worked!
It wasn’t easy, of course. Challenging people with the gospel was as hard as trying to lift a heavy weight. But when our investigators accepted our message, the feeling was far greater than winning a weight lifting competition ever was.
On my mission, I learned a lot about a different kind of lifting. The mission president encouraged us to try helping someone every day. That way, we would lift them, and lift ourselves. Service to others, service to the Lord—now that was true power lifting.

In 1967, Robert Lewis, a member of the Church, came to my office. He wanted a Church pamphlet, The Testimony of Joseph Smith, translated into Vietnamese, so I took it to a translator. When he finished, I gave the translation to Brother Lewis. He took it to church for the Vietnamese members to read. But they did not like it; it did not mean anything to them. Brother Lewis brought it back to me, and when the translator said he couldn’t do any better, I decided to try myself. I was not very good at speaking English and worried about how to translate it. I took the pamphlet home and stayed up all night reading it. As I read, something strange happened to me. It was as if someone unseen was helping me understand. The first translator translated word for word; but as I finally understood part of the testimony, I put it aside and wrote the translation in my own words. I translated according to the thoughts and feelings that were impressed upon me. I did not know it at the time, but I was translating by the Spirit.
I gave the translation to Brother Lewis and said that I would refund his money if he didn’t like it. But the members read it and said they understood what it meant. They said, “It communicates feelings—it affects us.”
Brother Lewis told me he would bring some more material to translate. So then I translated four or five pamphlets. They were all accepted.
As I worked on those pamphlets, I began to love the Church and the doctrines and teachings of the gospel. I asked Brother Lewis to send some missionaries to me. He sent two American servicemen. They taught me for three months, and I was baptized. My oldest son, Le Phuc-Hung, was also baptized a few months later.

But the need for mutual understanding also applies to Church members. For Brother Gerard Giraud-Carrier, getting to know others outside the Church was a primary reason for serving in his community. As a Regional Representative for the Brussels, Nice, and Paris regions, Brother Giraud-Carrier already had plenty to do. Then four years ago, he was elected to the city council in Lagny, France. His experience is teaching him to better appreciate his nonmember neighbors. “It gives me an opportunity to expand my understanding of others,” he explains.
Brother Giraud-Carrier makes no secret of his religious commitment. “Everyone on the council knows I am a Latter-day Saint, and they know I am in church every Sunday.” He also finds that principles of the gospel make him more effective in his work, which includes being a member of the public works and schools commission. “Before I go to council meetings, I pray,” he explains. “When I sense that I should interfere in a heated discussion, I raise my hand to ask permission to speak. I am always surprised that things quiet down and the group listens to me. Often they become calm, and even if they disagree with me, the discussion often takes a different turn.”
Serving on the city council is an unpaid position, and Brother Giraud-Carrier enjoys the satisfaction of serving his community. Equally important, he says, “It helps me to love people more, to appreciate them, even though they are not of the same opinion or even behave in a way that irritates me.”

Sister Joan Spencer, secretary: I think of a well-to-do woman in Arizona. A girl she knew had to spend the money she had saved for a mission to help her seriously ill mother. All her mission money went to pay the hospital bills. This wonderful woman paid for that girl’s mission. Both she and her husband realize that because they have been so blessed, they have an obligation and a great opportunity to share with others.

One day when I was quite young, I became unhappy with my mother and father and told them that I was going to run away. My wise parents helped me put together a little pack—a handkerchief with some clothes in it—and let me go. I walked down from the hill a little way from the house, feeling very brave. But the farther I got, the slower I walked. We lived out in the country, and it started to get dark and I started to get hungry. I decided home was pretty good. I turned around and went back home.
I’ve always admired my parents for allowing me to learn that lesson by myself. When my mother tells the story, she describes watching me go and crying. But she wanted to let me have that experience. When I got home, there was no punishment, just a loving welcome. I never needed to try that again, and I gained a greater appreciation for my parents and home.

Coach Ken Jenks has some good news and some bad news for the boys on his soccer team. As members of a recreation-league soccer team, they’ve had incredible success. The LDS boys, who have teamed up with nonmember friends, are some of the best soccer players in the area.
The coach starts with the good news. “Well, boys, we’ve got a great team, and the Southern California Soccer League championship is in the bag,” he says. Then his face clouds a bit, and he delivers the bad news. “But we’ll be playing three games, and one of them is on a Sunday. How do you feel about that?”
Five hands reluctantly but firmly go up. Eric Miller, 14, Jeff Jenks, 14, Justin Bonsey, 14, and twins Trent and Travis Weaver, 15, stand up and tell the group, “We can’t play on Sunday.” The boys, who are members of the Cypress First Ward, Cypress California Stake, aren’t happy about the idea of missing out on the biggest game of the season, but they are sure about their decision.
Although the controversy of the games on Sunday still continues in Orange County sports leagues, the boys’ stand is beginning to make a difference. Many local sports organizations are holding Sunday games less often.
So, as expected, the soccer team plays well on Saturday and wins easily. Then the Mormon boys wish their team the best and go to church on Sunday. The non-LDS members of the team play the championship game and lose. The team takes third place.
Eric shrugs his shoulders, “This game is a temporary thing. I really would have liked to play that championship game if it hadn’t been on Sunday, but I know that keeping the Sabbath will help me return to my Father in Heaven.”
Justin echoes Eric, “It was an individual decision for me, too. I know that it is right and so it didn’t bother me either. The next day some of the kids at school were a little upset, but I think they respected me for staying with my standards.”
And respect from peers, parents, coaches, and other players is a valuable by-product of the sacrifice these boys have made. But perhaps even more important than that is the fact that their example does not go unnoticed by the younger boys waiting for their turn to play the game—but not on Sunday.
Editor’s note: Because of the stand these and other LDS boys have made, regular-season soccer games are no longer held on Sunday in Orange County, California.

On April 3, 2022, faithful Saints all over the world gathered in their homes to watch general conference. In the Republic of the Congo, Brazzaville Stake President Belle-Vie Gayouele and his family were among millions of Saints who reverently followed the proceedings via live broadcast, when President Russell M. Nelson announced that a temple will be built in Brazzaville.
Of this sacred experience, President Belle-vie Gayouele said, “We didn’t really expect the temple to be announced at this recent conference. Nevertheless, saints all over Brazzaville and Pointe-Noire (two cities within the country) followed the prophet’s concluding remarks with a ray of hope. When the prophet unexpectedly announced the construction of the temple in Brazzaville, it had an incredible effect. My wife, for example, cried with joy, there were great celebrations everywhere, endless video and phone calls, and that night we couldn’t sleep! My family and I knelt in humility and offered a prayer of gratitude.”

We were traveling with family and friends in the south of Oman. We decided to relax on the beach along the coast of the Indian Ocean. Soon after our arrival, our 16-year-old daughter, Nellie, asked if she could swim out to what she thought was a sandbar. Noticing the choppy water, I told her that I would go first, thinking there might be dangerous currents.
After swimming a short while, I called to my wife, asking if I was close to the sandbar. Her response was, “You have gone way past it.” Unbeknownst to me I was trapped in a riptide and was being pulled rapidly out to sea.
I was unsure what to do. The only thing I could think of was to turn around and swim back toward shore. That was exactly the wrong thing to do. I felt helpless. Forces beyond my control were pulling me farther out to sea. What made matters worse was that my wife, trusting my decision, had followed me.
Brothers and sisters, I thought there was a high likelihood I would not survive and that I, because of my decision, would also cause my wife’s death. After great effort and what I believe was divine intervention, our feet somehow touched the sandy bottom and we were able to walk safely back to our friends and daughter.
From time to time I have an image that haunts me. What if that September day, while relaxing on the beach of the Indian Ocean, I had said to my daughter Nellie, “Yes, go ahead. Swim out to the sandbar.” Or if she too had followed my example and had been unable to swim back? What if I had to live life knowing that my example resulted in her being pulled by a riptide out to sea, never to return?

One winter night Janelle heard a knock on the door. She and Mom went to see who it was. Three people from the neighborhood stood on the porch. They played the guitar and sang Christmas carols. They were also collecting money to help sick children in the hospital.
Mom wanted to give them money. But she had nothing to give them! Janelle had an idea. She ran to her room and found her jar of coins. She had been saving them for a long time. The coins clinked as she ran back to the door.
“Here!” she said. “You can have my money!”
She dumped the coins into their box. The people said thank you and left. They were very happy. Janelle was happy too.
Then she looked at her empty jar. She sat down and started to cry. She had given them all her money. There was nothing left!
Mom sat down. She put her arm around Janelle.
“I’m proud of you,” Mom said. “That money will help sick children get better.”
“But, Mom!” Janelle said. “I was saving that money to buy you a Christmas present. Now I don’t have anything to give you!”
Mom smiled. “You gave me the best present of all.”
“I did?” Janelle asked.
Mom nodded. “Not all gifts come in a box. You did what Jesus would do. You helped someone who really needed it. That’s what Christmas is all about!”
Mom gave Janelle a big hug. Janelle was glad she could help people at Christmastime.

As the branch in Soweto grew stronger and larger, branches were started in other townships using the same model. Khumbulani Mdletshe was a young man living in the KwaMashu township near Durban. When he joined the Church in 1980, he brought with him suspicions of white people common to almost all young black men in South Africa at that time. But his experiences worshipping in an integrated branch changed his perspective.
In 1982, Khumbulani and several other young men in his branch were invited to attend a young single adult conference. His branch president, a white brother named John Mountford, wanted the young men to look their best, though few of them had nice clothing. He emptied his closet, distributing suits to the young men, who wore them to the conference. The next Sunday, President Mountford wore the suit he had loaned to Khumbulani. “I could not imagine a white person wearing the same clothes that have been worn by me,” Khumbulani recalled, “but there he was. He began to help me see white people differently than I’ve ever seen them before.”
Now an Area Seventy, Elder Mdletshe observed, “We all needed these lived experiences that caused us to change.”

On a spring morning some years ago, my wife and I planted a little cherry tree on a sunny corner of our lot. We looked forward to a bountiful harvest eventually. The next morning, however, my wife stepped outside for a few moments and came back with a look of astonishment: "Someone took our tree!" Sure enough, a thief had dug it up, leaving us with an empty hole.
While we did not lose much in terms of money, we lost all the time involved in preparing the spot, buying the tree, and planting it. Still, we were fortunate compared to others whose losses have been much more damaging. I have wondered if the person who took that tree gave any thought to the spiritual price he or she might have to pay for it.

On bright, sunny days, shadow tag was a perfect game to play. At the beginning of recess, Henry was chosen to be it. Henry chased the other boys and girls, trying to step on somebody’s shadow. He was just about to step on Laura’s shadow, when she cleverly hid it inside a tree’s shadow. But Laura couldn’t stay there; she had to count to ten, then leave the safety of the shadow. When she did, Henry quickly stomped on her shadow, and she became it.

Covenants include promises, “even of life eternal.” All things will work together for our good if we remember our covenants. They must be made and kept to fully receive the promises they provide. Love for the Savior and remembering our covenants will help us keep them. Partaking of the sacrament is one way to remember them. Another way is to attend the temple often. I remember a young married couple in South America who wanted to separate because they could not get along. A priesthood leader counseled them to attend the temple and pay specific attention to the words and promises of the covenants made there. They did so and their marriage was saved. The power of our covenants is greater than any challenge we face or we may face.

I knew a young mother who lost her husband by death. The family had been in poor circumstances and the insurance policy was only $2,000, but it was like a gift from heaven. The company promptly delivered the check for that amount as soon as proof of death was furnished. The young widow concluded she should save this for emergencies, and accordingly deposited it in the bank. Others knew of her savings, and one kinsman convinced her that she should lend the $2,000 to him at a high rate of interest.

Years passed, and she had received neither principal nor interest. She noticed that the borrower avoided her and made evasive promises when she asked him about the money. Now she needed the money and it could not be had.

“How I hate him!” she told me, and her voice breathed venom and bitterness and her dark eyes flashed. To think that an able-bodied man would defraud a young widow with a family to support! “How I loathe him!” she repeated over and over. Then I told her my Bishop Kempton story, where a man forgave the murderer of his father. She listened intently. I saw she was impressed. At the conclusion there were tears in her eyes, and she whispered: “Thank you. Thank you sincerely. Surely I, too, must forgive my enemy. I will now cleanse my heart of its bitterness. I do not expect ever to receive the money, but I leave my offender in the hands of the Lord.”

Weeks later, she saw me again and confessed that those intervening weeks had been the happiest of her life. A new peace had overshadowed her and she was able to pray for the offender and forgive him, even though she never received back a single dollar. (See Spencer W. Kimball, The Miracle of Forgiveness, Bookcraft, 1969, pp. 293–94.)

Another lesson I learned on the football field was at the bottom of a pile of 10 other players. It was the Rocky Mountain Conference championship game, and the play called for me to run the ball up the middle to score the go-ahead touchdown. I took the handoff and plunged into the line. I knew I was close to the goal line, but I didn’t know how close. Although I was pinned at the bottom of the pile, I reached my fingers forward a couple of inches and I could feel it. The goal line was two inches away.
At that moment I was tempted to push the ball forward. I could have done it. And when the refs finally pulled the players off the pile, I would have been a hero. No one would have ever known.
I had dreamed of this moment from the time I was a boy. And it was right there within my reach. But then I remembered the words of my mother. “Joseph,” she had often said to me, “do what is right, no matter the consequence. Do what is right and things will turn out OK.”
I wanted so desperately to score that touchdown. But more than being a hero in the eyes of my friends, I wanted to be a hero in the eyes of my mother. And so I left the ball where it was—two inches from the goal line.
I didn’t know it at the time, but this was a defining experience. Had I moved the ball, I could have been a champion for a moment, but the reward of temporary glory would have carried with it too steep and too lasting a price. It would have engraved upon my conscience a scar that would have stayed with me the remainder of my life. I knew I must do what is right.

For all of us, doing our duty to God as parents and leaders begins with leading by example—consistently and diligently living gospel principles at home. This takes daily determination and diligence.

For youth, there is no substitute for seeing the gospel lived in our daily lives. The stripling warriors did not have to wonder what their parents believed. They said, “We do not doubt our mothers knew it” (see Alma 56:47–48). Do our children know what we know?

I have a grandson who once asked me to go with him to a popular but inappropriate movie. I told him I wasn’t old enough to see that film. He was puzzled until his grandmother explained to him that the rating system by age didn’t apply to Grandpa. He came back to me and said, “I get it now, Grandpa. You’re never going to be old enough to see that movie, are you?” And he was right!

Besides showing youth the way by example, we lead them by understanding their hearts and walking alongside them on the gospel path. To truly understand their hearts, we must do more than just be in the same room or attend the same family and Church activities. We must plan and take advantage of teaching moments that make a deep and lasting impression upon their minds and hearts.

For example, Church leaders regularly plan priesthood activities and Scouting pow wows and encampments—but do those activities always accomplish their most important purpose? I have learned that what makes a priesthood or Scout activity most meaningful to a boy is not just getting a merit badge but having the opportunity to sit and talk with a leader who is interested in him and his life.

Similarly, mothers and fathers, as you drive or walk children to school or their various activities, do you use the time to talk with them about their hopes and dreams and fears and joys? Do you take the time to have them take the earplugs from their MP3 players and all the other devices so that they can hear you and feel of your love? The more I live, the more I recognize that the teaching moments in my youth, especially those provided by my parents, have shaped my life and made me who I am.

It is impossible to overestimate the influence of parents who understand the hearts of their children. Research shows that during the most important transitions of life—including those periods when youth are most likely to drift away from the Church—the greatest influence does not come from an interview with the bishop or some other leader but from the regular, warm, friendly, caring interaction with parents.

With that in mind, when we sit down at the dinner table, is our whole family there? I remember as a young man asking permission to play baseball through dinnertime. “Just put my meal in the oven,” I said to my mother. She responded, “Robert, I really want you to take a break, come home, be with the family for dinner, and then you can go out and play baseball until dark.” She taught all of us that where family meals are concerned, it’s not the food but the family interaction that nourishes the soul. My mother taught that the greatest love we give is within our homes.