Gospel Story Finder

The temple closest to me is located on another island. To get there, we have to take a 45-minute flight or a 12-hour boat ride. I had never been to the temple before, and in my last year of school, my mom made plans for us to go. She had saved money for a year so my family could go together.
Unfortunately, we would return home after the start of school, which worried me. It was always important for me to have a good grade point average (GPA) in school so I could receive a scholarship for college. I considered not going to the temple, because the absences could harm my final GPA. Then my mom said, “Why don’t you pray and ask for the Lord’s help?”
I was a little reluctant because I was afraid, but I decided to pray. Heavenly Father guided me, and I chose to go to the temple. For the entire week we were there, we went to the temple every day. It was amazing! Doing baptisms was an incredible experience; I could feel the Spirit very strongly.
In the end, I managed to finish school with a good GPA. Maintaining a close relationship with the Savior helped me have hope during that time. I knew He was with me, giving me strength. The Lord is aware of our efforts, and when we put things in His hands, we can trust that everything will be fine.

One brother who had once been a prisoner of war had to withdraw money from his savings account—money which had been set aside for another special purpose. Then he learned of a pension for Canadian prisoners of war and found that he qualified. In fact, he was awarded the pension retroactively, and the cumulative amount was slightly in excess of the amount he had withdrawn to pay his building assessment.

A faithful member shared her testimony of how the power of goodness influenced her life. She writes:
“Until I was about eight years old, I was oblivious to the fact that my mother had serious health problems—later diagnosed as multiple sclerosis. When I was a first-year Beehive, I awoke one May morning to find that my mother was paralyzed from the neck down. She was already blind.”
Confined to her bed, this courageous woman became the hub of the household. Her daughter wrote:
“One day it fell upon me to clean the oven, a chore I approached with self-pity and much complaining. I went into her bedroom to whine a little and realized that Mom was crying. She said, ‘Do you know how much I would give to be able to get up and scrub that oven?’ I gained a different perspective on the nature of work. To this day, I think of that experience every time the oven needs cleaning.”
She continues: “An unusual blessing came to me in having my mother available. She listened patiently to my early-adolescent concerns and questions. She made me feel like the most important and interesting person in the world. She was always HOME—attentive, interested, and always available.”
Her mother died the spring of her senior year. She relates:
“One of the hardest moments in my young life was the day I returned home from school to an empty house and walked down that long hallway to her bedroom. My built-in counselor and confidante was no longer there, but she had given me those eternal, intangible gifts of love, wisdom, and acceptance. I will be forever grateful for her goodness.”
This strong woman, though physically helpless, had the power to love, to motivate, to inspire, to perpetuate righteousness, to do good.

A number of years ago our family had the privilege of serving a mission in Belgium and France. We had six small children, including a new baby born in that country. Before Christmas we had written home for some clothing and Christmas gifts for our children. They did not arrive in time for Christmas as we had hoped.
As we sat together Christmas Eve reading the New Testament and the account of the birth of the Savior, there was a little melancholy because there would not be many gifts. But as we read the words about the gift our Father in Heaven had given, his beloved Son, Jesus, we realized that there were many in our city who needed help. So we quickly gathered together some of our possessions and a Christmas box of groceries and sought out one of those families.
As we all visited that tiny apartment and began to sing Christmas carols, our hearts were full as perhaps never before. We felt the spirit of giving, we felt the spirit of those who were receiving, and we felt the spirit of our Father in Heaven. We returned to our home that Christmas Eve with a far greater gift than those gifts we had anticipated from home. Truly, the only real gift is the gift of oneself.

Several years ago I went on a bicycle trip in France with my sister, sister-in-law, and her daughter. Each morning we were given three pages of detailed instructions that, if followed exactly, would guide us to our destination of the day. While we were cycling through vineyards, the directives might instruct us to “go 165 feet (50 m) north, then turn left and go 330 feet (100 m).” More often, the instructions gave signs and street names.
One morning we cycled down an attractive road but soon realized that our instructions no longer fit the territory. Rapidly becoming lost, we decided to return to where we last knew we were on the right track to see if we could sort out where to go.
Sure enough, when we got there, we found a small road sign, noted in our instructions, that we had failed to see. Soon we were on our way again, matching our progress with the instructions, which again were making perfect sense.
The experience served as a metaphor that answered a puzzling question I’d had: Why, when someone has had a testimony of the gospel, would he or she ever fall away? It became clear to me that when we take a wrong turn (sin) or fail to follow God’s commandments, the instructions (the word of God) no longer make sense. The map, as it were, no longer fits the territory we’re in. If we haven’t strayed too far, we may recognize that the fault is ours and that we need to return (repent) or recommit to live as God has commanded to where we knew we were following the route correctly.

My wife, Alice Mae, and I were serving as senior missionaries in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA. We were in the next-to-last month of our mission when the degradation of my motor skills became too much to ignore. Following the advice of the mission doctor and nurse, I went to a local hospital.
I had an EKG and a CT scan. Then a neurologist met with me. She asked more questions and did more tests. Finally, to my surprise, she said, “Mr. Lemon, you have Parkinson’s disease.” It was not a diagnosis I expected, and it was certainly not a diagnosis that I wanted. But what could I do?
That was two years ago, and it started a process I have since grouped into four phases. I share them here hoping they may be helpful to others who are dealing with an unwelcome diagnosis. Here are some of the things I have learned.
I searched online. I bought some books. I met with another neurologist. I wanted to know what impact Parkinson’s disease (PD) might have on my life span and ability to function. As I gathered information, I also prayed for guidance. I knew that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ would help me to get the information and medical help I needed. I learned that PD doesn’t typically affect how long you live, but it does affect what you can do. It progresses differently from individual to individual. It gets worse over time. It is not curable.
Once the shock of the initial diagnosis passed, I gradually began to realize the disease was not going to go away. My wife and I talked about our future and what it would mean if I were to lose some of my mobility. What would happen if I couldn’t drive or walk? In one tender moment when I posed those questions to my dear wife, she answered simply and without hesitation, “Then I will take care of you.”
We were grateful we hadn’t waited to serve the Lord as full-time missionaries and that we had been able to serve while our health was still good. We were also grateful that we had moved into a smaller home with no stairs on the main floor, mostly hard floors rather than carpet, and grab bars near all the toilets and showers. We felt that the Lord had known we would need such a home someday and had prepared a way so that when we needed it, it was ready.
During the next few months, I spent a lot of time at home and had plenty of time to think. I grieved for the loss of the person I thought I would be in my later years. I grieved for the future that my wife and I had previously envisioned. I endured days of discouragement. I prayed a lot as my symptoms grew worse. My need to find positive ways of coping increased.
Then the Lord provided an unexpected source of support. My wife and I were called to be our ward’s welfare and self-reliance specialists. As part of our calling, we facilitated a group meeting on emotional resilience. I had not thought about needing the class personally. However, by the end of the first meeting, I thought, “Wow! This is for me!” We talked about avoiding negative thought patterns, being positive, controlling our feelings. It gave me some practical tools that, over time, helped me—and my wife as well—to develop a healthy attitude toward my disease.
I remember thinking one day, “If I was going to pick a disease for me, this would be the one.” Because at this point it doesn’t shorten my life, but it forces me to submit to the will of God. It’s given me no choice but to accept that, and that’s been a blessing. I am calmer, more at peace. I had always lived too much in the future, concerned about what the next chapter of my life would be. Parkinson’s disease has helped me to be content to live in the present, to do the good that I can do now. Gradually, I have learned to submit myself and my future to the Lord more completely and without reservation.
I studied scriptures that talk about growing from trials.1 I re-read talks and articles by Elder Neal A. Maxwell (1926–2004) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.2 I remembered an address in which Elder Richard G. Scott (1928–2015) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles counseled us in times of trial not to ask, “Why do I have to suffer this?” but rather “What am I to learn from this experience?”3
Throughout this process, I have found a level of peace, joy, and contentment that had previously eluded me. I’ve come to see that death and passing through the veil is just another “transfer” on my journey along the covenant path. It is part of God’s plan of happiness.
I made a small sign on my computer and put it on the wall of my home office where I see it every day. It says, “Be Good. Do Good. Be Content. Relax and Trust the Lord.”
Today, at this point in the progression of the disease, I carry on a fairly normal life. I can still drive a car. We were recently called as temple workers. There are things I can do and things that I can’t. I walk with a cane when I leave the house. I get emotional over small things but also have become more sensitive to the needs of others. I’m not sure how my future will unfold, but I have the reassurance that whatever happens, the Lord will help me to endure it well and to find joy. It’s been a good tutoring for me, and I don’t want to miss the lesson.4

When we were last here, we were days from leaving for an undetermined length of time in Africa. The effects of change were about to descend upon us. In March of 2007, President Monson called us into his office with the intent, we assumed, to tell us where our next assignment would be. After visiting with us for nearly an hour he stood, telling us how much he had enjoyed our visit and signaling that the visit was about to conclude. As we walked towards the door he said, "Did I mention where you are going?" We answered no; we didn't think so. "Oh, you are going to Africa." With those six words, he changed our lives forever.
Just to give you an idea of how big a geographic change this was to us, Sister Koelliker had never in her entire life lived outside her zip code. Now at age sixty-five, we found ourselves in Johannesburg South Africa. There isn't a zip code that is further from Salt Lake City than Southeast Africa.
Prior to Africa, we had lived in a world of temples for ten years, having worked with President Hinckley to build seventy-two new temples, for a total of 124 operating temples under the direction of the Temple Department. Our every waking hour seemed to be about temples. Now we were going to a land where there was just one temple. This was for us a total change.

Perhaps my recent experience as a staff member of a military jail will be of use to you.
I recently completed a tour of duty as chaplain to a centralized military confinement facility. When I first arrived, the staff meetings were full of profanity, even though there were women present. After carefully cultivating the respect of the staff, I one day quietly asked one of the ladies present if she appreciated the type of language being used in that meeting. I was immediately interrupted by one of the principal offenders who said, “Oh, don’t bother Chris; she’s used to us.” Chris then took advantage of this opportunity to say, “I would rather they didn’t talk that way.” As you can well imagine, the entire staff was both surprised and embarrassed; the verbal climate of the staff meetings changed both dramatically and permanently.

About a month after I joined the Church, I met my wife, Magareth, and one year later we got married. While we were dating, I told her that because I knew Joseph Smith was a prophet, I desired to build our family upon the words and teachings of the prophets. For example, President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) was the prophet at that time, and he counseled Church members to stay out of debt. In close to 29 years of marriage, my wife and I have never paid one penny of interest. Never.

This is my friend Aisha, from Tonga. She joined the Church when she was 13, even though her father was opposed to the idea. She worked hard in high school to show her dad how responsible she was, but he passed away before he could see her graduate with honors.
She wanted to serve a mission. That fell through.
She wanted to be sealed to her family. That fell through, too.
Even when her plans completely fall apart, Aisha has a heart of gratitude, because God has other things planned for her. He’s shaping her into what He wants. She loves giving thanks to God.

Years ago, my wife and I drove to visit the Idaho Falls Idaho Temple. Our four young sons stayed home with a babysitter.
As we got ready to go home, one of the temple workers told us that the Teton Dam in eastern Idaho had collapsed! Much of our city was underwater.
My wife and I knelt and prayed to Heavenly Father for the safety of our children and the thousands of people affected by the flood. These words came clearly to my heart and mind: “Whatever the outcome, all will be well because of the temple.” We were grateful later to learn that our boys were safe.

Let me begin with a difficult personal example that has caused me to contemplate the great blessing and privilege of communication.

Our 2 ½-year-old grandson, Jack, was just diagnosed with a rare genetic deletion. It is called Phelan/McDermid syndrome. Although his case is shown to be on the mild end of the spectrum, he nevertheless, is missing the speech gene on the 22nd chromosome. He is the sweetest, most social little guy, but it is becoming increasingly frustrating to both him and his parents that he cannot talk. He tries so hard to show what he wants or needs, and his parents (and I when I am with him) try to read his eyes, watch all of his body language, and listen to guidance from the Holy Ghost to understand what he is trying to tell us.

From Jack I am learning anew what a privilege it is simply to be able to communicate! When one either cannot or does not communicate, anger, resentment, misunderstanding, and frustration abound. We are looking for miracle workers and angels like Helen Keller’s teacher Ann Sullivan, who will help unlock this door of silence for our little Jack. We are learning how crucial talking is to understanding, guiding, and loving one another. May you and I who enjoy the privilege of communication use and develop our communication skills to understand and to bless others.

The Holy Spirit has the power to guide. A 15-year-old girl felt that she needed to find new friends. She wrote to the Young Women office, “Now, I don’t know if you have ever had to change friends, but it honestly was the hardest thing I have ever had to do.” She decided to put her problem in the hands of the Lord, and she also counseled with her parents. She says that after several months “she wanted to just give up.”
One afternoon she was casually talking to her seminary teacher, and she confided her problem to him. Then he said, “I really don’t know why I am asking you this, but do you happen to know these girls?”
This girl answered with a yes. And then he said, “Have you ever thought about being friends with them?”
“I told him that there was no way that I could fit in with them. He then asked me if he could talk to one of the girls. I decided I would let him, if he promised not to embarrass me.
“Well, that next day I received a phone call from one of the girls. Now, you have to understand that this girl was on student council, and I hate to use the term, but she was ‘extremely popular.’ She asked if I would like to go to the basketball game with her that night. It was one of the funnest, most peaceful nights of my life. The next day at school, she introduced me to two other girls. We all instantly became friends.”
She concludes by saying, “I don’t know about you, but I would much rather have the Lord, who knows the outcome of everything, direct my life than me, who just sees things as they are at the time. He is right by our side, walking us through life, even when we feel so alone.”

We will have opportunities throughout our lives to share our beliefs, although we don’t always know when we will be called upon to do so. Such an opportunity came to me in 1957, when I worked in the publishing business and was asked to go to Dallas, Texas, sometimes called “the city of churches,” to address a business convention. Following the conclusion of the convention, I took a sightseeing bus ride through the city’s suburbs. As we passed the various churches, our driver would comment, “On the left you see the Methodist church” or “There on the right is the Catholic cathedral.”
As we passed a beautiful red brick building situated upon a hill, the driver exclaimed, “That building is where the Mormons meet.” A lady in the rear of the bus called out, “Driver, can you tell us something more about the Mormons?”
The driver pulled the bus over to the side of the road, turned around in his seat, and replied, “Lady, all I know about the Mormons is that they meet in that red brick building. Is there anyone on this bus who knows anything more about the Mormons?”
I waited for someone to respond. I gazed at the expression on each person’s face for some sign of recognition, some desire to comment. Nothing. I realized it was up to me to do as the Apostle Peter suggested, to “be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you.” I also realized the truth of the adage “When the time for decision arrives, the time for preparation is past.”
For the next 15 or so minutes, I had the privilege of sharing with those on the bus my testimony concerning the Church and our beliefs. I was grateful for my testimony and grateful that I was prepared to share it.

You can’t think of Nikolas without thinking of Sergey. And you can’t think of Sergey without thinking of Nik. These brothers, whose last name is Chemezov, have become closer and closer since their family joined the Church in 1992.

Of course, like all brothers they have similarities and differences. Sergey is 20, Nik, 12; but Nik is the taller of the two. Nik is quiet; Sergey is bolder. Both are athletic, lift weights, and love helicopters. Both are musicians, though Nik plays piano and Sergey violin. Both love the gospel and all it stands for. And both are fiercely loyal to each other and to their parents, Sergey Sr. and Valia.

That loyalty was tested when Valia and the boys returned from an extended visit with her parents and found that Sergey Sr. was investigating the Church. But he persuaded them to listen to the missionaries, to learn what he was learning, and to give it a fair chance.

“I can say the gospel saved our family,” Sergey (the son) says. “I decided to be baptized because of the example of my father. I saw a very big change in him when he joined the Church. He became so nice, so loving. It was a testimony for me.”

“Before,” Sister Chemezov explains, “the family didn’t come first. But now we understand we are an eternal family, and we appreciate one another on a whole new level.”

“I used to always think I was the big brother, so I always had to lead the way,” Sergey says. “But now when I stand next to Nik, I see that he is taller than I am. I know that sometimes he teaches me, that when I need help I can count on him.”

Nik has not only been there for Sergey but for his parents as well. “From the time he was baptized, he’s been saying, ‘I want to pass the sacrament; when can I start?’” Brother Chemezov explains. “That kind of excitement has strengthened our own testimonies and our faith. Helping other people and helping his family—Nik understands that’s what the priesthood is all about. He was very happy when he turned 12 and I ordained him a deacon.”

Nik was also happy when the family was sealed in the Freiberg Temple in Germany.

“After finishing the sessions, we had free time,” Brother Chemezov says. “Other people went to the city and went shopping. I asked the family, ‘Do you want to go to the city?’ and Nik said of the temple, ‘This place is so good; I don’t want to go to another place.’”

“The priesthood has the highest position in my life,” Nik says. “It helps me live as Jesus Christ says we should. I know if we will honor it, God will help us and make us better.”

That’s a reminder Sergey thinks of every day. “I am going to serve a mission, but it’s hard to work out the details with the military service required here. Sometimes I get discouraged, but then Nik reminds me I should just do what’s right. It’s great to have a brother who can keep me straight.”

Nineteen members were baptized on the above date by Elders Rendell N. Mabey, Edwin Q. Cannon, Jr., and A. Bruce Knudsen. The Aboh Branch was organized, with Anthony Obinna as president, his brothers Francis and Raymond as his counselors, and his wife Fidelia as Relief Society president. When President Obinna expressed concern about the propriety of having his own family in these offices, Elder Mabey assured him that they had been chosen for their worthiness, not for their kinship. The new branch presidency promptly reported the event in a jubilant letter to the First Presidency:
“Dear Brethren,
“All the members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in this part of Nigeria have the pleasure to thank you and the Latter-day Saints throughout the world for opening the door for the Gospel to come to our people in its fullness.
“We are happy for the many hours in the Upper Room of the Temple you spent praying to the Lord to bring us into the fold. We thank our Heavenly Father for hearing your prayers and ours and by revelation. He has confirmed the long promised day, and has granted the holy priesthood to us, with the power to exercise its divine authority and enjoy every blessing of the temple.
“There is no doubt that the Church here will grow and become a mighty center for the Saints and bring progress enough to the people of Nigeria as it is doing all over the world.”

Experience #3
In 2022, we were getting ready to play Air Force. It was a critical game in our season. I fasted and earnestly prayed for heavenly help and guidance. But I didn’t receive many revelations about the football game like I had received in so many other games over my career. But, before the game at the hotel, I did receive clear revelations as it pertained to our stake on certain matters that had not been clear before. These were matters that our stake presidency had spent years contemplating, pondering, and petitioning the Lord for His will. The Holy Ghost directed me on this stake matter.

On the bus ride to the game I fervently prayed for the Lord’s help. I received a powerful but quiet revelation from the Lord telling me, “I am here.” That gave me great peace thinking that revelation meant we were going to win. During the game, in the midst of 50,000 screaming fans and us losing, I asked the Lord if He was still there. Again, I heard a still small voice, “I am here.” That gave me courage that we were going to make a comeback and still win. Well, at the end of the game, when it was obvious that we would not win, I again asked, “Lord, are you still there?” And again, I heard, “Yes, I am still here.” Even though we lost this critical game I received guidance on how we were to proceed in matters as it pertained to our stake and His kingdom. After this devastating loss in a critical game of my career, the Holy Ghost in His role as Comforter, provided me with comfort when I so desperately needed it.

I have also had to repent. Before I repented, my friends all knew what was going on, and I felt like I was letting everyone down. My family relationships were bad too. It helped to talk to my parents. They were upset, but they supported my decision to change. I lost a lot of friends, but the ones I have now love me even though I made some bad choices. It helps to pray to Heavenly Father. He knew what I was going through and helped me through the trial. He will help anyone who asks for help.
Allisyn G., 16, Utah, USA

When I was 22 years old, I went to live with my grandmother to save money for college. I worked as a security guard, which meant that from 10:00 at night to 6:00 in the morning I walked around an empty office building, turning off coffee pots. My grandmother, however, thought I spent my nights carousing. It didn’t matter how many times I reminded her I was working; she thought I left the house every evening to hang out with all the wrong people and do all the wrong things. She worried about me constantly and told everyone she knew about her troubles. One morning I came home to find that our home teacher, Fred Van Wert, had put a sign in my bedroom saying, “Repent ye: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” I loved that sign. I stared at it every morning as I fell asleep and every night when I woke up. My grandmother thought it was a warning to turn me from my wicked ways. To me, it was just a reminder that she loved me.

Eli, get your shoes on! We’re going to the store.
OK!
I need you to be a big helper at the store today.
Heavenly Father, please bless Mom. She’s having a really hard time.
Would you like to go ahead of me?
Oh, thank you! That’s so kind.
No problem. I remember what it’s like to have kids at the store.
Why did that lady let us go ahead?
She saw that we were having a hard time and wanted to help.
My prayer was answered. Awesome!
But she’s not the only one who helped me. You helped most of all!