Gospel Story Finder

Being a member of the Church provided spiritual blessings, of course. But it also gave me some wonderful friends. Around the time of my baptism, several young men my age began coming to church, and we formed a very close-knit group. We started attending every meeting and activity together.

When I was 17, I left my city to go to college. Three of my friends decided to go to college in the same city, and we lived together. This was a great blessing because we could support and protect each other. We encouraged each other to go to church. We also had home evening among the four of us, and sometimes we invited other students who were members of the Church. All of those years at the university, we strengthened each other. Forty-five years later, those young men are still my best friends. Although we live in different parts of the world, we are always in contact. All six of us served missions.

But Amy’s transition into the Church wasn’t easy. “Even when I was leading up to it and for a while after my baptism, it was hard to adjust,” she says. Michelle’s friendship and love helped Amy stay close to the gospel, even though none of her family or other friends were members. “Michelle’s an amazing example. That was one of the biggest differences for me.”
“I’ve always done those things,” Michelle says. “I didn’t just change because Amy was joining the Church.” She says it’s important to be an example, especially to strengthen investigators and new members in the Church. “Keep on working on your testimony and yourself and just be aware of the little things you do.”
Amy and Michelle gain a lot of strength from each other, and they have strong individual testimonies, too. They frequently give away copies of the Book of Mormon with their testimonies written inside.

One home teacher I know faithfully made monthly visits to an elderly widow. More than just visit, however, each fall he winterized the sister’s air conditioner and checked the filter on her furnace. Was that God’s love or the love of the home teacher? The answer, of course, is both.

Vasterhaninge, Sweden—Audiences of 100 to 150 people gather in the Vasterhaninge meetinghouse on the grounds of the Swedish Temple each Sunday evening for music performances hosted by local Church members. The programs include adult and children’s choirs, and soloists presenting operatic and classical music befitting the Sabbath, reports Bo G. Wennerlund, Swedish Public Communications director.
“This has become one of the main cultural events for the entire community,” Wennerlund explains. “Community officials have attended several concerts.” Newspapers and radio stations in the community regularly report on the programs. In September the concerts began to be recorded and are now broadcast on the radio on Monday mornings.

He felt even more at home as he accepted callings and was eventually ordained a deacon. At the age of 13 he was called to serve as branch clerk and has fulfilled that assignment ever since. “From the first day, serving as a clerk was a joy. The Lord has called me specifically to do this, and it’s a privilege to do His work. When I started, balancing a checkbook was not one of the things I knew how to do. I had to learn that and lots of other things. But the Lord has blessed me with the ability to do my duty. Because of the challenge, I think I’ve grown in both mind and spirit.”

Straight, tall, strong,
you stride the world,
hurdling the chasm of time,
leaving distinct footprints.
Unnoticed,
I follow.
Then, when my earth trembles
and I am quaking, too,
I crawl inside your footprint;
a unique refuge created for me.
Seasons rotate, winds whine,
while I struggle resolutely
from one footprint to another
with confidence,
For I can still see you
ahead in the distance.

Like other Young Women groups around the world, the young women in the Wyoming Ward of the Grand Rapids Michigan Stake recently held their Young Women in Excellence. Each young woman and leader made a “Value Quilt” using the value colors in fabrics of their own choosing. This project began last year in March and was completed in November, so the quilts could be displayed for all to see. The girls learned how to choose fabrics, use a rotary cutter, sew a straight seam, bind and tie a quilt, and, most importantly, work together. The Young Women torch was embroidered or colored in the center of the quilts. Their satisfaction and feeling of having accomplished a major project is obvious from their huge smiles.

A: “The mission has helped me change the focus of my life. Before my mission, I really only cared about what others thought of me. My mission has taught me that when I put Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ first, everything else falls into place.”
Elder Jakob Blad

Hurricane Gustav, the second major hurricane of 2008, formed on August 25, 2008, about 260 miles (420 km) southeast of Port-au-Prince, Haiti, and eventually caused serious damage in the Dominican Republic; Haiti; Jamaica; the Cayman Islands; Cuba; and Florida, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and Arkansas in the United States.
Torrential rain and strong winds blew threw Haiti on August 26, as Hurricane Gustav’s destructive path left people homeless and without many necessities. At least four major storms hit the area during the 2008 hurricane season (Fay, Gustav, Hanna, and Ike), leaving a trail of destruction and a need for help with cleanup work.
The Church sent three planeloads of supplies to Port-au-Prince, and priesthood leaders worked with multiple organizations to help distribute the aid. Included in the supplies were hygiene kits, hand soap, cleaning kits, tents, generators, plastic sheeting, hammers, and nails. The Church also sent additional funds to purchase food and other necessary relief supplies.
Many Church members in Haiti assisted in putting together and organizing relief supplies that were then distributed to areas of need.

For Clara Leticia Cruz Cano of Puerto Rico, her love of the Book of Mormon started when she was about four. She noticed that her older brother got to take a turn reading in their family’s nightly scripture study, and she wanted a turn also. She asked her parents to help her, and soon she was part of the reading circle.
At age 12, Clara took on a new challenge. Instead of reading in her native Spanish, she read the Book of Mormon in English. At age 14, she read it in French; at age 15, in Portuguese; and at 16, in Italian.
In August 2005, when President Gordon B. Hinckley asked Latter-day Saints to read or reread the Book of Mormon, Clara was already into it in German.
“This is harder, but I will get through it,” she said.
Her reading in various languages has expanded her vocabulary. “When I come to a word I don’t know, I look it up. Soon I get tired of looking it up, so I memorize it,” she explains. Her study of languages has also helped in her schoolwork. Last year, at 17, Clara became the top public school graduate on her island.
Clara has uncovered some gems in her multilingual study. She even found that her middle name, Leticia, means “gladness” in the Italian translation (see 2 Nephi 1:21; 8:3).
Like some others, Clara has a collection of copies of the Book of Mormon in several languages. But, she says, “I decided I wouldn’t have any copies of the Book of Mormon I can’t read.”
That means her next project is already on her bookshelf. Her bishop, Hector Alvarez, saw her perusing a copy of the Book of Mormon in his home and gave it to her. She now has the self-assigned opportunity to learn not only another language but also a new alphabet. The book is in Russian.

A week ago I had an interesting experience. Without any official assignment, I attended a stake conference in a rural area of southeastern Utah. The stake president and his wife had invited Sister Hinckley and me to stay at their home. While he conducted his Saturday afternoon meeting, we rode about the stake, visiting a half-dozen little towns, in each of which there is a Church meetinghouse. We noted that the lawns were green and the buildings nicely kept, although they are small and some of them are old. We drove about and looked at the homes, modest in their appearance, but in almost every case there was neatness and beauty with flowers in bloom. Having a free Saturday and Sunday, I had wanted to make this trip simply to thank the people for their faith and faithfulness and to express my love to them. Most of them are farm folk who work hard for a small return. But they know a great truth. They know the law of the harvest—“Whatsoever ye sow, that shall ye also reap.” (D&C 6:33.)

They know that you do not reap wheat after sowing oats. They know that you do not get a racehorse from a scrub mare. They know that if you are to build another great generation, you must work with vision and faith. You must dream and plan, serve and sacrifice, pray and labor. After being with these wonderful people for two days, Sister Hinckley observed, “These are the kind who constitute the glue that holds the Church together.”

The home where we stayed was not pretentious, but it was comfortable and clean and delightful. The husband, I believe, did not have a large income, but he knew how to spend it wisely, first paying his tithes and offerings and setting aside some in savings. His wife is a beautiful woman, the mother of six sons and one daughter. You need not look far to know that in that home there is love and respect one for another. There is appreciation and gratitude. Through the years they have known adversity—lean times and death-threatening sickness.

I repeat—I went among these people to express my gratitude and love. I felt a great overwhelming measure of love in return. Here in this stake of small rural wards, among people who made no pretense of sophistication, I found strength and faith and virtue. I found men whose hands were gnarled and whose skin was wrinkled with the sun’s heat of many summers—men in whose hearts there was a great capacity for love—love for the land and the sky above it, love for their wives and children, love for the Church and its eternal purposes, love for God and the Savior of all mankind.

I looked into the eyes of beautiful women—women of virtue and strength and capacity, older women who knew much of struggle and disappointment and pain, young women who knew much of purpose and goodness and art and learning. I looked into the eyes of children—beautiful and innocent and wonderful.

I do not wish to imply that I could not find such in cities and towns all over the world. Such people are to be found everywhere, but somehow there seemed so much larger a percentage of them among the folks whom we visited. Their feet were planted on the solid earth. They knew the meaning of work without respect to hours or season.

I also wanted to visit among them because I have met their sons and daughters in the mission field in many lands. These have been effective missionaries because they have learned to get up in the morning and get their chores done. They have been dedicated missionaries because when they were very young they learned to pray at their mothers’ knees and heard their fathers bear testimony of the truth of this great latter-day work. Not only have these sons and daughters gone on missions, but by dint of great sacrifice they have gone away to school and won places of honor across the nation as they serve in business and the professions.

This story happened in the USA.
It started with four square.
Four square was a game some kids played outside the school at break time. Four players stood in a square and bounced a ball to each other. If they missed the ball, they had to leave the game.
I was nervous the first time I played. But I was pretty good at it. It was fun!
Then the girl across from me missed the ball. She said Heavenly Father’s name and laughed. “Good shot, Gwen,” she said. “Guess I’m out!”
I held the ball tightly. She had just taken the Lord’s name in vain! That was like swearing.
But no one else seemed to think it was bad. They all laughed, like it was funny or cool.
We kept playing. Then it happened again. Someone missed the ball and said Heavenly Father’s name like a swear word.
A few minutes later, I missed the ball too. And just like the others, I took the Lord’s name in vain. Kids laughed and high-fived me as I got back in line to play again.
After that, I played four square every day . . . and I said the Lord’s name more and more.
One day my friend Abby joined the game. She passed the ball to me. I missed it and said Heavenly Father’s name.
Abby blinked in surprise. “You never used to say that.”
She was right. At home and in Primary, I learned that the Lord’s name was special and we shouldn’t use it to swear or joke around. And that’s what I’d been doing—for weeks! I felt sick.
After school, I found Mom in her office.
“Hi, sweetie!” she said.
I burst into tears. I told her all about four square and taking the Lord’s name in vain. “I don’t know if I can stop,” I said with a sniff.
She hugged me tight. “It might feel that way right now. But I know Heavenly Father can help you.”
“How?” I asked.
“Repentance means turning back to Heavenly Father and trying hard to do better,” Mom said. “It won’t be easy, but you can pray for help. As you use better words, your old habit will fade.”
Mom helped me make a list of new words I could say instead of the Lord’s name. Then we prayed together. I told Heavenly Father how sorry I was and asked for help to use good language.
The next day I took a deep breath before I played four square. When I missed the ball, I almost said Heavenly Father’s name again, but I stopped. Instead, I said a word from my list.
“Oh, bananas!” I said. That felt good!
Each day I tried hard to use better language. I still messed up sometimes. But I kept praying and trying. Soon I went a whole game without saying the Lord’s name. Then a whole week. Then a whole month!
I knew Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ had helped me repent and change my habit—and that felt better than winning any game!

My brethren and sisters, I seek the direction of the Holy Spirit that I may say something that will add to your faith. I’ve recently had a great experience. For the better part of a week, with others, I stood in the entrance to the Washington Temple as a host to special guests. These included the wife of the president of the United States, justices of the Supreme Court, senators and congressmen, ambassadors from various nations, clergymen, educators, and business leaders. Since that week of special invitations, other visitors, more than 300,000 of them, have come to see this sacred edifice.
A vast amount of newspaper and magazine space has been given the temple, and radio and television have carried its story far and wide. It is doubtful that any building constructed in the East in recent years has attracted so much attention.
Almost without exception, those who have come have been appreciative and reverent. Many have been deeply touched in their hearts. Upon leaving the temple, Mrs. Ford commented: “This is a truly great experience for me. … It’s an inspiration to all.”
These were my thoughts as I shook hands with many of the thousands who came to the Washington Temple with curiosity and left with appreciation, some with tears in their eyes.
Said one of the leaders of our nation as he left the Washington Temple the other evening and looked up to its spires, “This beautiful structure is a symbol of those virtues which have made of us a great nation and a great people. We need such symbols.”

As a young missionary serving in the Central States Mission, Elder Kimball was traveling on a train to Chicago, Illinois, when a man approached him.
Man: Hey there, young fellow. I have a book that I think you’ll like.
It was a vulgar book filled with obscene pictures. Spencer wouldn’t touch it.
Elder Kimball: You are wrong, sir. That book does not appeal to me.
The man tried a different approach.
Man: Come into the city with me. I’ll show you where you can have a good time.
Elder Kimball: Absolutely not. I am a representative of Jesus Christ, and I will not follow where you go.
The man realized that the young missionary was in earnest and finally left him alone. Spencer recorded in his journal that he could feel himself blush for an hour.
Elder Kimball: Oh, how hard Satan, through his imps, tries to lead young people astray.I thank the Lord that I had the power to resist.

Years ago, when my husband and I still had six of our children at home, we also had a foster home where we cared for elderly Alzheimer’s patients. At that time, we grew a large garden and preserved a lot of our food. One year we didn’t have access to peaches or pears, which were favorites of our family and especially good for the Alzheimer’s patients who needed soft foods.
I decided to pray about this need. I asked Heavenly Father to lead me to some inexpensive peaches and pears if He knew of some that were available. My hope was to find fruit that would otherwise go to waste.
A couple of days later, I drove my children to the church for a youth activity. A sister who was new in the ward approached me and asked me if I could use some ripe peaches. Her family had just bought a home with many peach trees in the yard, and there was more fruit than they could use. I was able to pick many boxes of peaches and preserve them at no cost.
Some time went by, and I didn’t find any pears. I reasoned to myself that Heavenly Father knew I was very busy getting the children settled in school and preserving the food from our garden and didn’t have time for the pears.
A few months later, after all the fruit was harvested, I was in the waiting room of my chiropractor’s office. As I sat there, a man came in and began talking with the receptionist. To my surprise, I heard him ask her if she knew anyone who could use some pears. He had bushel boxes of pears in cold storage and wanted to find a home for them so he could turn off the refrigeration for the winter. I was able to buy boxes of large, beautiful pears for only three dollars each—a highly discounted price compared with what I normally pay!
Heavenly Father answered my prayer from months before, and He also arranged for the pears to be kept cold until I had more time to preserve them.

Years ago, Elder James O. Mason of the Seventy shared this story with me: “The birth of our sixth child was an unforgettable experience. As I gazed on this beautiful, new daughter in the nursery just moments after her birth, I distinctly heard a voice declare, ‘There will yet be another, and it will be a boy.’ Unwisely, I rushed back to the bedside of my absolutely exhausted wife and told her the good news. It was very bad timing on my part.” Year after year the Masons anticipated the arrival of their seventh child. Three, four, five, six, seven years passed. Finally, after eight years, their seventh child was born—a little boy.

When our first grandson was born, the entire family rushed to the hospital. It was an amazing experience for me to see our oldest son, Matthew, holding this precious new baby boy. While standing at the nursery window with our youngest son, Chad, we gazed into the eyes of this new little spirit—so clean, so pure, so recently from heaven. It seemed that all time stood still, and for an instant, we could see the great eternal plan. The sacredness of life was crystal clear, and I whispered to Chad, “Do you understand why it is so important to remain clean and pure?” He responded reverently, “Oh yes, Mom, I get it.”

Some weeks later I received a phone call. It was Cameron’s mother, Joyce. She was the Young Women president; my husband, Van, was the Young Men president. It was routine for her to leave messages with me.
As we spoke, she indicated that she was tying up all loose ends before Cameron’s surgery. Cameron’s surgery? I tried to think. Oh, yes, something to help his hips. The conversation ended, and I hung up the phone.
Suddenly the feeling came to me: Cameron was going to die.
I felt nauseated and weak. I went to my bedroom to pray. Was there something I should do? After praying, I felt a sense of reassurance.
Cameron had his surgery. Joyce called and reported that all had gone well. Still, I sensed something in her voice. Everything seems fine, she said.
The next day as I was trying to organize my day, the telephone rang. It was Jamie, a member of the Relief Society presidency.
“How are you?” I asked politely.
“Not very good,” she answered, as she started to cry. “Cameron passed away last night.”
I sat down.
“I just thought that you should know.”
“Thank you for calling me, Jamie,” I said. “You may never know how much this means.” I hung up the phone, then took down the picture of Jesus healing the man born blind. I wrapped it and thought of a gracious God who prepares answers to prayers before they are uttered. I wrote Cameron’s family a letter that I hoped would comfort them, then I attached it to the gift.

Building homes takes a lot of time, effort, and precision. One area where I thought we didn’t need to be as exacting was in digging the footings for a house. My father thought differently.
To lay the foundation for a home, you first have to dig and pour the footings. Footings are pads of concrete that are wider than the foundation. Once the footings are poured and cured, you pour the foundation on top of the footings. Then you backfill dirt over them.
I often wondered if it really mattered that the footings were perfectly square. After all, with dirt covering them, no one would ever see them, and it wouldn’t weaken the support structure of the home. But my father still wanted the footings square and flat, measured correctly and carefully, and he did this with every home he built.
Looking back, I realize that my father treated everything he did in his work with the same care, even for things the owner would never notice. His careful attention to detail meant that people could trust him to do good work, and he had the satisfaction of knowing that his work was the best quality and that the owners would appreciate it.

LISA: When I walked in the door it was quite a different party than I had expected. They were drinking and smoking marijuana. Everybody in the whole place was using drugs. The right thing would have been to turn around and leave. That’s really a hard thing to do, but if I had, I probably would have avoided all the trouble that came later. I didn’t want to use any drugs. I didn’t even want to go to that party. But instead of turning around and going home, I went in. After being there 20 minutes I felt so awkward that I grabbed a beer and pretended to drink it.

As soon as I started pretending to use I was accepted by everybody and was asked out by several guys. I loved that. I wasn’t interested in the drugs and alcohol. It was the crowd, the acceptance.

LISA: I started smoking pot, and I tried LSD. A lot of the pot I smoked was laced with even worse things. I have no idea what I smoked.

Through my use, my family life completely deteriorated. I tried to avoid my family as much as possible. I wasn’t going to school. I’d make maybe two classes a day if I was lucky.

LISA: When drugs let me feel anything, I felt really guilty about what I had done. I felt worthless. I didn’t understand justice and mercy and repentance. I thought that I was bad forever. I didn’t know how to be forgiven. I just felt that I was lost.

I had heard the lessons about forgiveness, but I didn’t think it could apply to me. I thought, That’s okay for little Mary Jo over there who swore yesterday, but for me who’s been doing this and this it doesn’t work. I felt there was a certain amount of time I had to spend repenting, a certain amount of suffering I had to do, and I knew that my life wouldn’t be long enough to do it all. So why try?

On the other hand, when I got into a rehabilitation program and was taught what the Atonement means and what repentance is all about, my Father in Heaven became my greatest strength. He helped me make the painful changes that had to be made. I know that I have been forgiven, and I’ve learned how to forgive myself. Now when I look back it’s like watching a movie of someone else. The weight has been lifted, and I am a different person.

LISA: When I was using drugs I couldn’t pray. I felt that I was such an awful person that I would just be wasting my time. So I tried to push God out of my mind. I tried to tell myself that he didn’t exist. I tried to forget him because I didn’t want to feel the guilt.

I look back on what has kept me straight and why I’m sober today, and it’s because I learned how to talk to God. I didn’t know how to before. I was used to saying a kind of set prayer—“Bless us to get home in safety …” The same old stuff.

So I had to establish a relationship. Now I can come home and tell him, “Look what I did today. I was so rude.” I’m talking to him as I would talk to a friend. I really feel that he is my friend. I can just sit and talk about something that concerns me today. I sit in my bedroom with my eyes open and just talk to him. That really helped turn me around.

If I had had that relationship when I first started using, I might have gotten out in time.

LISA: Stay close to your family and maintain high self-esteem. Low self-esteem makes a person more vulnerable. In the ninth grade I had a 3.5 GPA. I modeled professionally. I was in ballet, but my self-esteem was low. I felt that whatever I did wasn’t good enough. I felt that a 3.5 GPA should be a 4.0, that I wasn’t skinny enough, that I wasn’t pretty enough. I never had the exact right clothes. I never did things exactly right. I guess I was quite self-critical.