Gospel Story Finder

Even worthwhile endeavors need evaluation in order to determine if they have become distractions from the best goals. I had a memorable discussion with my father when I was a teenager. He did not believe enough young people were focused on or preparing for long-term important goals—like employment and providing for families.
Meaningful study and preparatory work experience were always at the top of my father’s recommended priorities. He appreciated that extracurricular activities like debate and student government might have a direct connection with some of my important goals. He was less certain about the extensive time I spent participating in football, basketball, baseball, and track. He acknowledged that athletics could build strength, endurance, and teamwork but asserted that perhaps concentrating on one sport for a shorter time would be better. In his view, sports were good but not the best for me. He was concerned that some sports were about building local celebrity or fame at the expense of more important long-term goals.
Given this history, one of the reasons I like the account of Lucy playing baseball is that, in my father’s view, I should have been studying foreign policy and not worrying about whether I was going to catch a ball. I should make it clear that my mother loved sports. It would have taken a hospitalization for her to miss one of my games.
I had decided to follow my dad’s advice and not play intercollegiate sports in college. Then our high school football coach informed me that the Stanford football coach wanted to have lunch with Merlin Olsen and me. Those of you who are younger may not know Merlin. He was an incredible all-American tackle on the Logan High School football team where I played quarterback and safety and returned kickoffs and punts. In high school Merlin was recruited by most football powers across the nation. In college he won the Outland Trophy as the nation’s best interior lineman. Merlin was ultimately the third overall pick in the National Football League draft and played in an amazing 14 consecutive Pro Bowls. He was inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame in 1982.
The lunch with the Stanford coach was at the Bluebird restaurant in Logan, Utah. After we shook hands, he never once made eye contact with me. He talked directly to Merlin but ignored me. At the end of the lunch, for the first time, he turned toward me, but he could not remember my name. He then informed Merlin, “If you choose Stanford and want to bring your friend with you, he has good enough grades and it could probably be arranged.” This experience confirmed for me that I should follow my dad’s wise counsel.

A prospective elder in Utah was afraid to go to church because he didn’t want to be called on to pray or answer questions. After two months of being taught the gospel in their home, he and his wife accepted an invitation to attend the temple preparation seminar. Shortly afterward, they made church attendance their goal, despite the man’s fears. It was their decision, arising out of their progress in learning the gospel. He’s now been ordained an elder, and he and his wife have been sealed in the temple.

When I was growing up, playing soccer brought me confidence and happiness. So it was difficult when my soccer team began losing games. We had a history of winning, but now our confidence as a team was shaken. I also got injured and missed some games and practices. I felt disappointed in myself because I wasn’t performing at the level others expected of me.
One evening before a game, the coaches told me that a teammate would be starting in my place. I wasn’t surprised, but I felt discouraged. This teammate and I competed for the same position and had developed an unspoken and unfriendly rivalry.
As I watched my team struggle, I noticed the teammate playing in my spot get pulled from the game. She walked off the field, looking really disappointed. I felt impressed to talk to her. I approached and offered her some words of encouragement. She was surprised, because we hadn’t been friendly to each other before. As I walked away, I felt joy and peace come over me. From that day on, we weren’t rivals but friends.

My father was an incredible man. He was bishop of our ward for twenty-nine years, including my entire childhood. His quiet, strong example meant a lot to me. I learned a lot by watching him.
One of the most important lessons I learned was the importance of paying tithing. I watched ward members give my father their tithing, and I watched him at night write tithing receipts for these humble offerings. I watched my mother gather the eggs the chickens laid and save one out of every ten to pay for tithing. My parents taught me how to save one-tenth of the few pesos and pennies I earned, and I treasured the tithing receipt I received after paying my tithing.

I thought that after I was baptized everything would be perfect and I would like Church meetings even more. However, it did not happen that way. Sometimes I didn’t want to go to church, and I started to miss meetings. One Sunday my mom, who is not a member, asked me why I wasn’t going, and I told her I found the meetings boring. The next week, she asked me to go to church. Even after I got there, I thought about returning home, but then I thought of sacrament meeting, partaking of the sacrament, and all the other good things I would miss out on if I left. I decided to stay.
I am glad my mom talked to me about going to church and encouraged me to attend.

When Joseph Smith was a young man, Josiah Stoal offered him a job.
We’ll be working in Pennsylvania. I’ll pay you, and we’ll stay with Isaac Hale’s family.
Isaac had a daughter named Emma. She and Joseph enjoyed each other’s company.
Soon they fell in love.
When the work was done, Josiah and Joseph returned home.
I can’t stop thinking about Emma.
What do you plan to do?
After discussing the matter with his parents, Joseph returned to Pennsylvania and proposed.
After Joseph and Emma married, they moved in with Joseph’s family.
Welcome to our home, Emma!
Thank you, Mother Smith. I’m so happy to be here.

“Before speaking at a Primary devotional recently in Anchorage, Alaska, I asked some of my grandchildren what I should share with other children around their age.
“‘Pa, tell them that you know Jesus and that He loves them,’ they responded.
“I took their suggestion to heart and made sure to promise each of those children that they are known by name by Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost. I also shared with them that God loves them.
“The truths I shared with these precious children are the same truths I share with each of you.
“Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love us so much. We are God’s children. We should share this important truth with everyone we know. We are never really alone. In Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, we have constant friendship and support.”
Elder Ronald A. Rasband, Facebook, July 12, 2022, facebook.com/RonaldARasband.

I grew up on a cattle ranch in Montana, USA. We also had about 300 sheep on the ranch. My mother bought them as a way for us to earn money for our missions.
My job was to take care of the lambs that didn’t have a mother taking care of them. When a sheep has more than one baby, sometimes she doesn’t take care of all of the lambs. So those were the lambs I took care of. There were 5 to 10 of these lambs each year.
Every day, I would drive to the pasture in our small blue car, called a Volkswagen Beetle, and honk the horn. Then I opened the car doors. Those lambs would come from wherever they were in the field. They knew the sound of that old Volkswagen. They would jump in the back of the car, and I would drive them to the barn and feed them.
We are like those little lambs. We live in different places and have different challenges in our lives. But Jesus is reaching out to each of us. We can learn to hear His voice. We can turn to Him for comfort and security. We can feel loved by Him and Heavenly Father.
As I’ve looked toward Jesus as the Shepherd in my life, my life has changed. When we place our lives in the hands of the Savior, we will feel His love and learn to trust Him.

On the first day of fifth grade I met a new boy in my class. During lunch recess we were playing in the field when he started to use bad language. So I went to get a drink and I thought of what to say. I also said a prayer that I would know what to say to him. When I was done I walked up to him and said, “If you keep on using bad language I can’t play with you anymore.” He said he would stop, gave me a high five, and now we are good friends. Because I talked to him, now he doesn’t use bad language. I’m thankful that Heavenly Father and Jesus helped me and gave me the courage to stand up for what’s right.

When he was a teenager, the Saints in Boise, Idaho, met with Church officials to talk about building a new tabernacle. The Boise members were asked to donate money to build the tabernacle, and Howard was the first to raise his hand. He pledged twenty-five dollars—a lot of money for a teenager in those days—as his offering. “I worked and saved until I was able to pay my commitment in full,” he said.

I too would like to give a special thanks to Jamie Glenn and Rayna Jones for being “in tune” with the Spirit when they composed the beautiful “Walk Tall, You’re a Daughter of God,” which was published in the April 1979 New Era. This song contributed much happiness, serenity, and peace of mind to my dear friend Lorna Smith during the last year of her life.
In May of 1981 Lorna had her first operation for cancer. The family was told that life expectancy for this type of cancer was about four months. However, she was given chemotherapy and her health improved. One year later, in May 1982, she became very ill again. One Sunday morning before she was taken back to the hospital, I was visiting her when she told me about hearing this song at a Relief Society function. It had so touched her heart that she had asked Kris Taylor, the sister who had sung it, to record it for her so that she might listen to it at home. This had been done, and that Sunday the two of us listened to it and shed tears as we heard the words, “He’s closer than you know—reach up, He’ll take your hand.” Lorna sent a copy of the tape to Nebraska to be played to her 92-year-old mother and aged aunt who are not members of the Church. She also shared the song with her daughters whom she wanted to realize that they are truly daughters of God.
She had another operation that May 1982, and the new growth was found to be inoperable. She was again given about four months to live. Her treatment was changed and she lived another 13 months, during which she had the privilege of enjoying the arrival of two new grandchildren. Throughout this last year of her life she often listened to “her song.” The words gave her strength, hope, and courage. Her display of these qualities touched the lives of many.
In May of 1983 she again became so ill that her digestive system could not tolerate even water. Another operation disclosed several cancerous blockages in her intestines. During this lengthy stay at the hospital I took a tape to her on which the Gunderson sisters had recorded some special songs for her. One of them was “Walk Tall.” As it was playing there in the hospital room, a nurse came in singing the words. She told us that this song was also special to her. She had heard it and sung it on her mission. This seemed to create an understanding between her and Lorna.
The cancer spread to Lorna’s liver, and she died at home on June 28, 1983. As I stood there by her, in my mind I could hear and feel the impact of the words, “He’s closer than you know—reach up, He’ll take your hand.”
Her special song was sung beautifully at her funeral by the Gunderson sisters, and on her headstone, as a reminder to her children and grandchildren, is engraved “WALK TALL, YOU‘RE A DAUGHTER OF GOD.”
Dorothy M. BolinderGrantsville, Utah

Obviously, The Ranch isn’t your typical ranch. Sister Lou Cille Hamnett, who runs the place with her husband Von and her son Scott, tells about the dream she and her first husband, the late Neil Carlisle, shared when they purchased the property. Over the years, ward groups from the surrounding states clamored for the opportunity to have activities at the site.

“When you walk around here and the sandhill cranes are flying overhead and the Canadian geese are flying and the ducks are out there on the lake and it’s quiet, well, there’s no place like it,” Sister Hamnett said. “People are living such a rat race that they don’t stop to smell the roses, they don’t stop to feel, really, the reverence of the soil and the clean air. I think that’s what you get up here. There is a special spirit here.”

Because of that special spirit, even after Brother Carlisle passed away in 1985, Sister Hamnett wanted to keep The Ranch going. But she had her doubts about whether it could be maintained.

Then Bishop Blake Wride and the youth of the 19th Ward came to the rescue.

“They knew what a large responsibility the upkeep and improvement of The Ranch would be for me. So he got all of his kids together and suggested coming up for a service project. I thought, ‘Well, why not?’ But I thought I would probably be baby-sitting them. Instead, this group has just been marvelous. Neil always said that giving to others was the most important thing. I knew we were giving by having these church groups come up here, but now someone’s giving in return.”

One day I was teaching my daughter Maria how to listen to answers to her prayers. “Honey, listen in your prayer to your conscience. Then respond to what you feel or sense.” She questioned how to do this. I suggested that whenever she asks for a certain blessing, she ask herself if she has done everything possible to earn and deserve that blessing. (And when we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated. D&C 130:21) Then the Lord will speak to her heart through her conscience.
Maria did this and she said that nothing new was given, for “I already know what I should do.” I asked her where she got that knowledge. She answered, “In my Sunday School class.” I pointed out that Sunday School was part of the Lord’s kingdom and that the true principles she had learned there were lodged in her heart and mind.
The Holy Ghost brings those principles to remembrance when we need them to meet the demands of each situation. “For behold, again I say unto you that if ye will enter in by the way, and receive the Holy Ghost, it will show unto you all things what ye should do.” (2 Ne. 32:5)

My name is Eric, and I love to play basketball. According to Eddy, our team’s student manager, I’m the fifth grader most likely to make a shot. Mom says I play so well because I play so often. “Practice makes perfect,” she says. Today I discovered that I could use some practice at something besides basketball. …
At lunch, my friend Kurt and I were walking toward our usual table, when I saw Trevor sitting alone, picking green pepper bits off his pizza. All of a sudden, I had a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach, and it wasn’t entirely because of green peppers.
Trevor is a boy who comes to our ward sometimes. Yesterday Sister McQueiry, my Primary teacher, asked me to stay after class. She told me that the ward had set a goal to reach out to less-active members and that she needed my help. She knew that Trevor went to my school, and she asked me to invite him to Primary. I told her I would. When I saw Trevor, I knew I should talk to him right away, but I didn’t want to.
I mean, what would he think if I walked over there and just started talking? What would everyone else think? If he were an OK guy, why wasn’t anybody else sitting by him? Besides, this was only Monday, and I had all week to ask him to Primary. So I sat with Kurt at our usual table.
I must’ve felt a little guilty, though, because I ate my pizza, salad, corn, and chocolate cake a lot more slowly than usual. After about fifteen minutes, everyone else was out on the playground, but I was still eating my slice of pizza. The lunchroom was practically empty—except for Trevor and me.
I finally went over and sat by him. He was really quiet at first, but when I asked him about Boston, where his family had moved from, he started talking. I was so busy listening to him that I missed the entire lunch recess, and I barely remembered to ask him to church the next Sunday. I felt relieved to have my “Trevor assignment” over with.
I rushed home and played about ten games of one-on-one with Kurt before dinner. At family home evening, my sister, Kim, gave the lesson. It was all about the parable of the sheep and the goats in Matthew 25:31–46 [Matt. 25:31–46]. It compares the sheep to righteous people and the goats to wicked people. In verses 33–38 and 40, it says: “And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left.
“Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you …
“For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:
“Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.
“Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?
“When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? …
“And the King shall answer and say unto them, … Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”
As I listened to the parable, I thought about Trevor eating lunch all alone. Then I thought about Jesus. “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” Was I really ignoring Jesus when I ignored Trevor?
Kim ended her lesson, and Dad asked if anybody had any questions. I raised my hand.
“Eric?” asked Dad, a little surprised.
“I just wanted to know,” I started, not sure how to ask my question, “if you do something good, but it takes you a while to do it and you really didn’t want to do it, but you did it anyway, would you be a sheep or a goat?”
Dad gave me a look of real concern. “What are you talking about?” he finally asked. And so I told him about Trevor.
“It sounds to me as if you knew the right thing to do and you did it.” I felt relieved to hear Dad’s answer. “But,” he added, “your attitude could use a little work.”
“You’re a sheep,” Kim decided. “Pretty much, anyway.”
“Today you were kind because you knew it was right,” Mom added. “In time, I hope you will help others because you love them as Jesus does. But it will take time and practice.”
I wonder if you can be willing to practice love and service like you’re willing to practice basketball. I wonder if you can practice them while you practice basketball. I’ve decided to have lunch with Trevor tomorrow. He seems interesting. Besides, Trevor is even taller than I am. I wonder if he can hit the outside jumper.

Like many of you, I was baptized by water when I was eight years old, over a half a century ago. I remember a lot of the details about my baptism by water, in part because when I arrived at the chapel we discovered that they didn’t have any baptismal pants small enough to fit me. They brought me the same type of baptismal clothing that the two or three other girls were going to wear for their baptism on that day. They told me it was a tunic, but I knew it was a dress. I refused to put it on notwithstanding the efforts of my father and the priesthood leader who was conducting the baptismal service to persuade me otherwise. At some point an older man walked into the changing room, sensed my determination not to be baptized in what I knew was not a tunic, and then left only to return with two things in his hands. In one hand was a picture from the meetinghouse library of John the Baptist baptizing Jesus Christ. In his other hand was a rope. He told me that if I put on what they were calling a tunic, and tied the rope around my waist, I would look like John the Baptist and Jesus Christ in the picture. That made sense to me, so I was baptized in a tunic, not a dress, with a rope tied around my waist. I remember all of that. Here’s the part that troubles me. I don’t remember anything about hands being placed on my head and receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost.

Growing up, I was the third of seven very active children in my family. We lived next door to an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Burrows. As a young boy, I always felt like they weren’t very happy with us. We were loud and rambunctious. Sometimes we would run across their lawn, throw balls over their fence, or make a lot of noise. This often upset them.
My mother went grocery shopping on Saturdays. She often took Mrs. Burrows with her because Mrs. Burrows couldn’t drive. Mom decided that I would go along every Saturday to help push Mrs. Burrows’s cart and lift the bags of groceries into our car.
When I look back, I’m grateful for that opportunity. Mr. and Mrs. Burrows were older and had no children to help them. My mom could have shopped any day of the week, but she chose to do it on Saturday so she could take Mrs. Burrows. I could have been playing with my friends on those Saturdays, but I’m so glad I saw my mom serving Mrs. Burrows and that I had the chance to serve Mrs. Burrows too.
My mother showed me that serving others is a part of who we are as Latter-day Saints. She taught me that we should strive to help others while we take care of ourselves.
Over time, I found that I didn’t hop over the fence as much or make as much noise. I came to love Mr. and Mrs. Burrows as I served them.

In 2016, Charlotte learned that she had breast cancer. With treatment, her cancer went into remission but returned in 2019. She continued to serve and strengthen others until she passed away in April 2021, at age 50.

Charlotte had joined the covenant people at age 20 in Montpellier, France. And while she would quickly say that she was far from perfect, she treasured her covenants and stayed on the covenant path for the remaining 30 years of her life.

During her struggle with cancer, Charlotte wrote in her journal: “I am so thankful, so grateful for the Holy Ghost and the ability … to receive personal revelation. I do not know what I would do in my life without it. I would be lost.”

When I read her words, I thought of President Russell M. Nelson’s counsel to all of us on the covenant path: “In coming days, it will not be possible to survive spiritually without the guiding, directing, comforting, and constant influence of the Holy Ghost.”2

Connie Ruesch Cosman was a sister missionary in France as Charlotte entered the covenant path. They remained friends, and Connie came from Arizona to help care for Charlotte in her final two weeks of mortality. Sister Cosman wrote: “Charlotte never doubted and would do whatever the Lord asked of her. She sought for her own answers and received them. She continues to be an immense example for me and others.”

The day following Charlotte’s passing, her brother, Morgan, wrote to me, “I horribly miss her; we were very close.” He then spoke of a spiritual experience that came to him in the first night following her passing.

“[I know] she is happier than ever,” he said, adding that his spiritual experience “strongly confirmed what I already knew, and it healed my broken heart.”

Let me conclude with an old Indian legend. Many years ago, Indian youths would go away in solitude to prepare for manhood. One such youth hiked into a beautiful valley. There he fasted, and on the third day he decided to test himself against the mountain. He put on his buffalo-hide shirt, threw his blanket over his shoulders, and set off to climb the peak.
When he reached the top, he could see forever, and his heart swelled with joy. Then he heard a rustle at his feet. Looking down, he saw a snake. Before he could move, the snake spoke: “I am about to die. It is too cold for me up here, and I am freezing. There is no food, and I am starving. Put me under your shirt and take me down to the valley.”
“Oh, no,” said the youth. “I know your kind. You are a rattlesnake. If I pick you up, you will bite me, and I will die.”
“Not so,” said the snake. “I will treat you differently. If you do this for me, you will be special. I will not harm you.”
The youth withstood for a while, but this was a very persuasive snake with beautiful markings. At last the youth tucked it under his shirt and carried it down to the valley. There he laid it gently on the grass. Suddenly, the snake coiled, rattled, and struck, biting him on the leg.
“But you promised—” cried the youth.
“You knew what I was when you picked me up,” said the snake as it slithered away. (From Iron Eyes Cody, “But You Promised,” Reader’s Digest, June 1989, p. 131.)

It has been very windy here lately--not an uncommon thing in April and May in Rexburg. On Sunday May 4, it was particularly windy, so much so, that a section of the fence in my back yard was blown down. This happened sometime in the afternoon between my telephone chat with my best friend in Utah, and my nap before working on this talk. As I looked out my kitchen window, I thought, "hmm, wouldn't it be nice if those students playing with their dogs came over and put my fence back up for me!" I knew it would be too heavy for me to do by myself, and so I thought, "Well, I guess I'll probably have to call my home teacher to come help me with that, or I could just go out there now and start to work on it and maybe one or two of those young men playing in the yard will come help. Well, it's Sunday. I probably shouldn't do that today, but if I wait the guy who comes to mow the lawn will be upset. The grass will turn yellow under the fence." A bunch of thoughts crossed my mind, and then, without choosing to do anything about it, I sat down to my computer. About an hour or so later, I got up to get myself a drink, and as I looked out my window, low and behold, the fence was already back up! I don't know the students who live behind me, but thank you for that little act of service that was a great example, and a great help to me. They could have waited for someone to ask them to do it, but they just did it! They chose to serve.

Maria was a young woman who had graduated from secondary school and began work as a secretary with a large company. She was the only Latter-day Saint employee in the office. Long before the New Year, everyone in the office was talking about the annual New Year’s Eve party. Traditionally, the office closed early on New Year’s Eve, and a wild celebration went far into the night.

Maria was concerned about the party for a long time before it actually took place. She didn’t want everyone to think she did not want to enjoy the party with them, but this kind of celebration was not in keeping with her church standards. She thought about claiming to be ill on December 31, but decided that being dishonest was not in keeping with her standards either. Her decision finally was to watch the clock closely. When the time neared for closing the office, she would quietly clear her desk, gather her things, and leave before being noticed.

However, when the time came to do this, the other workers began to gather before she could complete her plan, and Maria found herself in the middle of the office party.

She made a second plan. She would stand off to one side. When the party got underway, she would leave unnoticed. However, before long a group of her fellow employees had gathered around her, prodding and teasing.

“Just take one drink.”

“No one will know.”

“No one should go through life without at least tasting liquor.”

Her refusals and pleas were in vain. Frustration rising, Maria thought, “I’ll drink this drink, then get out of here.”

She held the glass up, but she could not drink it. She remembered the Primary teacher who had taught her the Word of Wisdom several years earlier. At that moment her ordeal was over. Handing the glass to someone, she firmly said, “No. I don’t drink. I never have, and I don’t intend to start today.” Pushing her way through the group, Maria picked up her coat and left.

Although Maria didn’t realize it, she had made the decision years earlier in a Primary class that she would turn down that drink. How much easier the situation would have been for her if she had long ago pictured in her mind what she would do in that kind of situation. Then those moments of indecision would never have happened—for the decision would have already been made.