Gospel Story Finder

In one ward, mothers introduce their daughters to Relief Society in a Sunday meeting when they turn 18. One mother tenderly expressed how her Relief Society sisters had nurtured her from her early marriage: “They have brought meals and hugs in time of sorrow, laughter, and support for celebration. They have taught me the gospel by visiting me and letting me visit them. They have allowed me to make mistakes on their time.” This mother then explained to her daughter how the daisies in their garden came from Carolyn, the lilies from Venice, the buttercups from Pauline. The daughter was amazed. Her mother replied, “These women are my sisters in every way, and I am grateful to bring you into their care.”

Throughout his life, Heber J. Grant recognized the Lord as the source of his strength. Called to be an Apostle when he was only twenty-five years old, he was plagued for four agonizing months with doubts about his worthiness and preparation for the calling. But during a missionary journey on the Navajo Indian reservation in Arizona, the young Apostle had an unforgettable experience that silenced his doubts forever.
He later recounted that as he was riding alone on horseback, “I seemed to see, and I seemed to hear, what to me is one of the most real things in all my life. I seemed to see a Council in Heaven. I seemed to hear the words that were spoken. I listened to the discussion with a great deal of interest. … In this Council the Savior was present, my father was there, and the Prophet Joseph Smith was there.” Young Heber listened as the council discussed the vacancies that needed to be filled in the Quorum of the Twelve. “It was given to me,” he said, “that the Prophet Joseph Smith and my father mentioned me and requested that I be called to that position. I sat there and wept for joy. It was given to me that I had done nothing to entitle me to that exalted position, except that I had lived a clean, sweet life. It was given to me that … the Prophet Joseph and my father desired me to have that position, and it was because of their faithful labors that I was called, and not because of anything I had done of myself or any great thing that I had accomplished. It was also given to me that that was all these men, the Prophet and my father, could do for me; from that day it depended upon me and upon me alone as to whether I made a success of my life or a failure. …
“From that day I have never been bothered, night or day, with the idea that I was not worthy to stand as an Apostle, and I have not been worried since the last words uttered by Joseph F. Smith to me [Elder Grant succeeded Joseph F. Smith as President of the Church]: ‘The Lord bless you, my boy, the Lord bless you; you have got a great responsibility. Always remember this is the Lord’s work and not man’s. The Lord is greater than any man. He knows whom He wants to lead His Church, and never makes any mistakes. The Lord bless you.’” (In Conference Report, April 1941, pages 4–5.)

Melissa decided to try one more time to save her marriage, which seemed distant and disconnected. That’s when her husband, Cameron, told her honestly about his pornography use. At her urging, he agreed to tell the bishop, and eventually they both talked to their parents. But, as he explains, it “took two years to finally see that there was more to repentance than telling a few people and saying a prayer.” He had to learn that not looking at pornography wasn’t enough. To truly be in a state of recovery, he had to turn to God and find healthy ways to deal with the stress, fear, shame, and anxiety that triggered his craving to look at pornography.
After a relapse, Cameron agreed to attend an addiction recovery program and, over time, has come to understand that the Savior does not give up on us as soon as we make a mistake.
Through also attending a 12-step program, Melissa feels that her family finally has the tools to move forward. She remembers how difficult the 12-step meetings were in the beginning, but she was motivated by a facilitator who suggested that Melissa “try us for 90 days. If you don’t like us, we’ll refund your misery.” Melissa eventually realized that just as she felt hope from others’ stories, maybe she could help others feel hope by sharing her experiences.
Melissa used to believe that if she stayed married, she would only pretend to be happy. Her perspective changed when she realized that the Savior saw potential in her, in Cameron, and in all of Father in Heaven’s children. He put all He is—the Light and the Life of the World—into saving us and giving us another chance. Because of the Savior, Melissa says, she can now smile in a genuine, I’m-happy-to-be-alive way.
Melissa and Cameron remain married and work to live in recovery.

On the other hand, I remember a student, we'll call her Mary, who came to me to complain about her roommate. Mary pulled out a long list that she had created of everything her roommate had done to offend her. Apparently she had kept an exact record of each offense, the day and the hour and the situation. From loud music, messiness, inviting friends into the bedroom where they sat on Mary's bed, etc.

Surely Mary had reason to be uncomfortable. But she was also a score keeper. Like some married couples we know who are score keepers, Mary saw and recorded only negatives. Two suggestions helped Mary. First, only keeping score on the good things she appreciated about her roommate, and record, looking upon everything else as an opportunity to be patient, merciful, and forgive.

“I would advise that if a person has a chance to get a four-year bachelor’s degree, he should do it. The two-year hospital programs are good, but the baccalaureate degree lets you do more in the field, no matter how you may rationalize otherwise. However, everyone has to examine his own condition, because not every program is right for every person.
“A nurse sees many tragedies and sorrows. One time I took care of a young man who was dying. His wife was pregnant with their fourth child. I had the privilege of teaching her how to care for him and her children. Part of nursing is being able to teach others. I’ve learned that without the gospel in my life, my attitude might be callous. The saddest thing is to see so many people who could view things so differently if they only understood the gospel plan. I try to share what I can. I’ve had people say things that touch me deeply, such as, ‘Oh, you’re a Mormon. That’s why you’re so kind.’”—Marilyn

President Monson told of arriving in Toronto, Ontario, Canada to begin his service as mission president. He said: "I hadn't been a missionary. I'd received no preparatory training for this important calling. I was young (32). I needed the help of the Lord. I went out behind the mission home and found a secluded spot in the trees where I could pray. I included in my prayer: I'll not be a quitter. I'll give it everything I've got."

Every departing missionary and every one of us involved in other righteous endeavors would be wise and blessed to follow his example and say to the Lord in a private solemn prayer: "I'll not be a quitter. I'll give it everything I've got."

“The Church plays an important role in my life,” David says. “Participating in seminary helped build my testimony growing up.” Arising at 6:00 A.M. daily, David attended early-morning seminary for four years. His mother, who has taught seminary for 13 years, taught his older brothers with him.

“My brothers set good examples and uplift me,” says David. The Brown brothers wrestle and tease each other, as brothers do, but their teamwork is apparent. They care for each other and desire to see one another succeed. One by one, his three older brothers have left to serve missions: Bryce to Oklahoma, USA; Gary to London, England; and Paul to Leeds, England. As each brother graduated from seminary and left to serve a mission, the class became smaller. By his final year of seminary, David was the only student in his mother’s class. However, he didn’t mind. He continued to strengthen his testimony by studying the scriptures.

Every year, my parents and older siblings travel to Guatemala as part of a humanitarian medical team. One year, I got to go with them as a member of the nonmedical team. I was so excited! I got my passport and stashed it in a fireproof box where my parents kept other important papers.
But the night before the trip, I opened the box and couldn’t find my passport anywhere. A wave of panic came over me. If I couldn’t find my passport, I wouldn’t be able to go to Guatemala!
My family and I looked everywhere, but we couldn’t find it. Finally, my father suggested we say a prayer. We knelt together and prayed that we could find the passport soon so that we could regain calm and sleep well that night.
Right after the prayer, my mom immediately went to the desk in the corner of the room. She crawled underneath it, and wedged in the baseboard of the wall was my passport!
I was so grateful. We knelt again to thank Heavenly Father for helping my mom find my passport. I’ll never forget how glad I felt knowing that He hears and answers our prayers.
Gideon S., Texas, USA

Several of you are guided daily by the Spirit in the academic area in large and small ways, for example, deciding on a major, what to read to prepare for your test, responding to the prompting not to cheat, and so on. Let me tell you about a young man who attended BYU-Hawaii a little while ago, he was a returned missionary who had served in Iceland. The Icelandic language is an incredibly difficult language to learn, but he was able to master it. After his two years were completed he enrolled here and described always having an interest in Japan - its art, language, and culture. He said, “I enrolled in Japanese 101 and thought pridefully that because I learned Icelandic I would be able to learn Japanese easily.”

However after a month the young man described himself as being at the bottom of the class. “Nothing seemed to stick to my mind, and when it finally did I was so far behind the rest of the class, I almost felt like withdrawing and taking the bad mark on my record.” He went on to say he was sitting in the library one day and he felt like he should pray. He spoke to the Lord and asked Him to help him learn Japanese. He uttered this tender plea, “Thou helped me learn Icelandic to bless others in Iceland, if thou would help me learn Japanese I will use it for whatever purposes thou would have me do in thy service.” The impression that came was that he should study the Book of Mormon in Japanese and study it in the same format that he did Icelandic. The words, characters and pronunciation came faster than they did relying on his own abilities. The purpose of the class changed; rather than the reward at the end of the class of a good grade, it was to prepare to serve the Lord and his children.

Only a few days ago in Arizona as I was at the pulpit in a conference meeting, a tiny boy came walking down the aisle and up on the stand, perhaps searching for a mother in the choir, maybe just investigating. He wasn’t making any fuss, but he was a wonderful little boy and I couldn’t refrain from pausing a moment and talking with him. I asked him his name and where his mommy and daddy were, and at that point a tall, handsome young man stood in the chapel and advanced to retrieve his child. When the father took his son in his arms in front of the pulpit he kissed him, and I had to swallow a quick lump in my throat. There was no embarrassment, no spanking, no yanking, no anger. There was just the gentle kiss and a loving hug in those big strong arms, and for all of us present a warm, tender, memorable experience from a fortunate youngster and a wise, mature, regular dad.

As I have reflected back to when I was your age, I remember being a new missionary serving in England. My companion and I had the opportunity to go to the temple. We arrived late in the evening. Early the next morning after study and prayer, we crossed the temple grounds. The temple president, Selwyn Boyer, was a very dignified man with white hair. He had come out of the temple and was walking towards us. He looked at us and seeing our missionary badges pointed his finger at us and said: “Matthew 5:48, do you know that scripture?” My senior companion stated, “Be ye therefore perfect even as your father which is in heaven is perfect.” President Boyer said, “That is correct.” He then said, “Elders, are you living that commandment?” We started to stammer; we knew we were not perfect! He started to help us. He asked questions starting three days earlier. He asked when we went to bed, when we got up, did we have individual and companion scripture study, did we go out proselyting on time? He then said, “I am sure you are not perfect, but you have made perfect choices for the last three days and that means you are moving in the right direction.” He then left us thinking about the importance of the questions he had asked.

My mission president, Elder Marion D. Hanks, taught me that it is the small decisions or choices day by day that are important.

I had a problem with overeating. My repeated bouts of gorging resulted in a harrowing mass of guilt, frustration, and disappointment. I felt so weak when I tried to overcome my problem.
For a long time I neglected the fact that the Savior’s Atonement not only saves us but also redeems us and perfects us, and that this even applies to my obviously imperfect habit of overeating.
I decided to give myself to my Savior. I prayed. I sincerely admitted my weakness and my need for grace, and then I asked Heavenly Father to bless me with His divine assistance in the upcoming day. That night I felt the assurance of a loving Father that He had the immeasurable desire to help His son and the unquestionable power to fulfill His will.
Since that night, food no longer has the same overwhelming influence over me. I know Jesus Christ is the reason for my success. Just like Paul, I am learning that “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me” (Philippians 4:13). And I’m trying to never forget another lesson from Paul: “Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 15:57).

I am grateful to President Grant and other prophets for teaching the principle of tithing to my parents and to them for teaching it to me. My attitude toward the law of tithing was set in place by the example and words of my mother, illustrated in a conversation I remember from my youth.

During World War II, my widowed mother supported her three young children on a schoolteacher’s salary that was meager. When I became conscious that we went without some desirable things because we didn’t have enough money, I asked my mother why she paid so much of her salary as tithing. I have never forgotten her explanation: “Dallin, there might be some people who can get along without paying tithing, but we can’t. The Lord has chosen to take your father and leave me to raise you children. I cannot do that without the blessings of the Lord, and I obtain those blessings by paying an honest tithing. When I pay my tithing, I have the Lord’s promise that he will bless us, and we must have those blessings if we are to get along.”

The Primary children of the Ville-Marie Ward, Montréal Québec Stake, and their teachers and leaders enjoyed visiting the Montréal Québec Temple grounds. They were calm and reverent as the temple presidency welcomed them and gave them a tour of the grounds. They loved seeing the colorful flowers and the beautiful temple. They also viewed a film about the temple, and each received a small card with a picture of the temple.

An outstanding example of perseverance is Madame Marie Curie, who worked together with her French physicist husband, Pierre Curie, “in an old abandoned leaky shed without funds and without outside encouragement or help, trying to isolate radium from a low-grade uranium ore called pitchblende. And after their 487th experiment had failed, Pierre threw up his hands in despair and said, ‘It will never be done. Maybe in a hundred years, but never in my day.’ Marie confronted him with a resolute face and said, ‘If it takes a hundred years, it will be a pity, but I will not cease to work for it as long as I live.’” She was eventually successful, and cancer patients have benefited greatly from her perseverance.

Twenty-five years ago I found myself in my first nursing course at St. Benedict’s Hospital in Ogden, Utah. My clinical instructor, Dr. Helen Farr, lined me and other students up against the wall to inspect our clean, white, crisp nursing uniforms early that first morning. With stethoscopes around our necks and confidence abounding, we were assigned our first patients. We could hardly wait to care for our patients—to do those skills that we had practiced so long and so hard in the nursing lab. We were excited to take our first blood pressure, give our first medication, and start our first IV.
I remember my first patient, a man in his fifties who had been diagnosed with bladder cancer—a terminal disease. I completed the technical skills with precision and, after giving what I thought was good care, walked out into the hallway to be met by Dr. Farr. She asked how I was doing. I reported all the tasks I had completed, including giving her a report of the patient’s current blood pressure and pulse.
With a worried look she asked me if I had taken the time to talk to the patient and really listen to understand his concerns and worries about his health problems. She told me to go back into the room and not come out until I had talked and then listened intently to my patient.
With my tail between my legs, I turned around and headed back into his room. I felt uncomfortable as I entered. I cannot remember what was said to break the tension, but I soon found out this patient’s physician had told him of his terminal condition that morning. The man shared with me his concern and his fears about the terminal diagnosis. How was he going to be able to talk about this to his wife? He told me he was scared of being in pain. He shared his concerns about leaving his wife and told me how important she had been to him. Tears came to his eyes as he spoke about how much he wanted to be with his children and grandchildren, to go fishing and camping with them. We spoke for a long time that day. At times no words were spoken, but communication occurred soul to soul.
Even though I felt I had been scolded by Dr. Farr that morning, I was taught an important and valuable lesson that day: to be still and listen. That lesson has helped me more throughout my nursing career than anything else I have learned since.

As I grew older, I doubted that I would be able to serve a mission because of my family responsibilities. Still, I had a great desire to serve and often thought of the blessings I would lose if I did not go on a mission. Then one night I dreamed that the Savior was sitting next to me. I had such a special feeling of peace and safety that I could no longer doubt what I needed to do.
My employer gave me a leave of absence from my job, and I accepted a mission call. When I had been on my mission a year, my brother wrote that my employer had changed his mind and refused to hold my job until I returned. He said if I did not return home, I would lose my job. “Do not worry about material things,” I wrote back. “If I lose that job, the Lord will help me find something better.” I finished my mission.
I am grateful that, during my mission, none of my brothers or sisters suffered any serious illnesses. I returned to find them all well. We are still together, helping each other. We have been sealed to our parents, and I have been married in the temple to a very special woman. We have been blessed with two children of our own, so now there are nine of us.

In October 2019, Abraham returned to the United States. One Sunday, he was teaching a lesson at church. There was a man in the class that got up and went out. Unknown to Abraham, this man was a doctor and had called an ambulance. He recognized that Abraham was exhibiting signs of a stroke. The family is so grateful their father went to church that day and that the doctor was there too. Even though he is currently down with a stroke and uses a wheelchair, he still sees himself as blessed and he’s forever grateful to Heavenly Father.

Years ago, when I was a stake president in Paris, France, I was told that President Gordon B. Hinckley was coming to Paris for a couple of days and I was going to be his driver. I would pick him up at the airport and take him to his hotel so he could rest. The next day I would take him to do a number of visits. One visit he wanted to make was to a U.S. military cemetery, where his brother, who died of influenza during World War I, is buried.
But when I picked up President Hinckley, he didn’t look very tired. He held his cane up and said, “President Caussé! Let’s go to work!”
He wanted to go to the cemetery right away. Unfortunately, I had arranged with the director to go there the next day, so when we arrived, it was closed and nobody was there.
The next day, we were so busy that we didn’t have time to go back to the cemetery. That evening, President Hinckley handed me a $10 (US) bill and said, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to go to the cemetery. I would be very grateful if you could buy flowers and put them on my brother’s grave.”
I bought flowers, but I didn’t use that bill. The following Sunday afternoon, I went with my family and put the flowers on the grave. We took a picture of our family in front of the grave with all the flowers and sent it to President Hinckley.
I still have that $10 bill. It’s in my scriptures. If I were to ask, “What is the value of this bill?” most people would say, “Ten dollars.” But for me, it’s worth far more. This bill was worth ten dollars, but for me, it’s priceless now. It’s a memory of a moment I had with a prophet of God.

A week and a half ago, I had an experience that reminded me of that. I was walking out of the Kimball Building and passed someone I don’t know well and simply wished him a good weekend. At the time, I had a few things weighing heavily on me, but he could not have known that by the way I greeted him.

Later that day, he sent me a kindhearted email. He shared some nice things that his colleagues had said and expressed gratitude for some things he generously gave me credit for. It was only a two-paragraph email.

To be honest, I was surprised by the impact that such a short message had on me. Somehow, those things that had been weighing on me felt a little lighter. I felt more peace and even a small, but needed, boost of confidence. It was a simple, small act of kindness, but it made a difference.

It made me wonder: what if we acted on those impressions more often? What if, when we thought or heard something kind about someone, we simply told them?

What I experienced that day is part of something the scriptures describe as edification. When we edify, we lift and strengthen each other. Paul connected edifying directly to peacemaking when he taught, “Let us therefore follow after the things which make for peace, and things wherewith one may edify another.”[12] On several other occasions, Paul encouraged the saints to edify one another.