Gospel Story Finder

When I received the invitation to respond to this question there immediately flashed through my mind the recollection of a teenage experience of many years ago. In the stake where I lived, the young people were planning a week-long camping trip that would extend through a Monday holiday. This involved being in the mountains on Sunday. The general policy guideline was for Church groups to avoid Sunday camping, but those responsible for the planning of this camping trip felt that by carefully working out a program to include the regular Sunday meetings at the campsite they could overcome any objections that might be raised. Approval to go forward was sought from the stake president. The young lady serving as the spokesman for the group explained what was being planned and concluded by saying, “We feel that by getting close to nature we can get closer to the Lord and can increase our spirituality.”
The stake president listened patiently and then in a kindly tone replied, “I agree with you that these things can happen, but my observation is that they usually don’t. I have no concern about the outcome of the Church meetings being planned. It’s what happens before and after. The minute church is out, the young folks are back in their grubbies and ready for play.”
The stake president was identifying a problem common to many of us, where we rationalize that attendance at church qualifies us for Sabbath day observance, and that this can be followed with activities not always in keeping with the spirit of the Sabbath.

It was 5:30 a.m. on a day in December 2004 when Bronco Mendenhall, then the second-youngest Division I head football coach in America, stepped into his office on the still-dark second floor of the Student Athlete Building for his first full day on the job. There was nothing on his desk or shelves. “It was a surreal experience. I was wondering, ‘What have I done?’ and, ‘What do I do now?’” he recalls. “I found myself on my knees within minutes.”

Sometime around 8 a.m. a knock interrupted his prayer. At his door stood the patriarch of BYU football, LaVell Edwards (EdD ’78). Edwards set a chair directly in front of Mendenhall’s chair, and the two sat down, knee to knee.

“[LaVell Edward’s] first words were ‘You have a tough job.’ Then there was a pause and silence,” says Mendenhall. “It wasn’t very comforting to hear that. But then [LaVell] just said, ‘But it’s a great job.’ I didn’t know what he meant by either at the time.”

Mendenhall has come to consider [Coach] Edwards a mentor and an advocate. “It’s nice to have someone who has done the job better than anyone, who clearly understands what it’s like to be a head coach here.” The relationship has helped Mendenhall frame what a BYU football team ought to be. [Peter B. Gardner, “The Bronco Way,” BYU Magazine, winter 2007, 22–23]

First, from President Ezra Taft Benson (1899–1994): He described an assignment he had received from the President of the Church following World War II. President Benson was to leave his wife and family and go to the devastated members of the Church in Germany and other nations. Through the God-inspired welfare program, he literally fed the hungry, comforted the weeping, and lifted closer to heaven all with whom he met. Years later, at a dedication service at Zwickau, Germany, an elderly member, with moist eyes, said to me, “Please tell President Benson that we love him. He saved our lives: mine, my wife’s, my children’s, and many, many others’. He was as an angel sent by God to literally restore to us hope and confidence in the future. Tell him we love him.”

My father had to fight for his testimony, and my mother rolled up her sleeves and fought alongside him. When he was 19, he found that some of his choices in life were bringing on difficult consequences. One day he was sitting on a bridge over a river, contemplating his young life and wondering if there was more meaning to this earthly experience than what he knew. His older brother saw him and came and sat by his side. As they were talking, his brother said, "Hey, I just found this new church and was baptized. You should get baptized too, and if you don't like it then you can quit in a year." My dad thought "Why not?" and decided to get baptized. He soon met my mother, and a year later they were sealed in the Cardston Alberta Temple. A few years later, after my sister and I were born, he was called to be a Seventy and stake missionary. His new priesthood office and calling required him to visit people and teach them about the gospel. He became very concerned about this. He didn't want to share a message with others about something that he wasn't sure was true. He decided he'd better find out if it was true or not. He had never read the Book of Mormon and really only joined the Church because in his mind it was going to keep him alive. He had never worked to gain a testimony; he was just going through the motions of being a member. But now he knew he needed to find out if what he was taught at church was real. He and my mom discussed what they should do. My mom had never read the book of Mormon either, so they decided they would read it together. They did not just casually read; they read with real intent and prayed every night. My dad was aware of Moroni's promise and had taken it to heart. He had a strong desire to find out if the things he had been taught at church were true. His desire to know of the truth and his action of reading and praying every day led to an answer. Somewhere in the middle of Alma, he had received a witness that the Book of Mormon was true, and his prayers changed. Instead of asking if it was true, they changed to ask for help to increase his understanding. The Holy Spirit bore witness to both my parents, and my dad now had a testimony of the Book of Mormon and that he was a member of the true Church on earth. His concerns for sharing the gospel were gone, and he became an enthusiastic stake missionary.

Elder Robert L. Backman, when he was general president of the Young Men of the Church, liked to tell the story of a deacons quorum presidency who took it upon themselves to visit every member of their quorum. They made appointments, got together at an appointed time, and went to the homes of their young brethren. One such visit was particularly memorable, when they visited a young man who was just about to become a deacon.
The presidency arrived at their prospective quorum member’s home at the appointed hour and knocked on the door. They were invited into the living room, and the prospective deacon joined them. He was a little nervous and didn’t know exactly what to expect. His parents left them alone to visit. The presidency took the time to explain to him what his duties would be, where and when they met as a quorum, how he would participate in meetings and activities, and then welcomed him into the group.
When the presidency left, the young man’s father asked how the visit had gone, to which he responded, “They were awesome, Dad.”

For our interactions with youth to truly touch their hearts, we have to pay attention to them just as we would pay attention to a trusted adult colleague or close friend. Most important is asking them questions, letting them talk, and then being willing to listen—yes, listen and listen some more—even hearken with spiritual ears! Several years ago I was reading the newspaper when one of my young grandsons snuggled up to me. As I read, I was delighted to hear his sweet voice chattering on in the background. Imagine my surprise when, a few moments later, he pushed himself between me and the paper. Taking my face in his hands and pressing his nose up to mine, he asked, “Grandpa! Are you in there?”
Mother, Father, are you in there? Grandpa, Grandma, are you there? Being there means understanding the hearts of our youth and connecting with them. And connecting with them means not just conversing with them but doing things with them too.
Recently I heard a mother recount how she had helped her first three daughters complete their Personal Progress requirements by doing what was expected—staying informed and signing off projects. Then she tenderly explained, tears flowing down her cheek, “Recently I have been working with my fourth daughter by actually doing her projects with her. It has made all the difference in our lives and our relationship. But oh, what sadness I feel when I realize what I lost by not doing this with my other three daughters.” The saddest words of tongue and pen are those that say, “It might have been!”

One of my good and bright friends left the Church for a time. He recently wrote to me of his return: “Initially, I wanted the Book of Mormon to be proven to me historically, geographically, linguistically, and culturally. But when I changed my focus to what it teaches about the gospel of Jesus Christ and His saving mission, I began to gain a testimony of its truthfulness. One day while reading the Book of Mormon in my room, I paused, knelt down, and gave a heartfelt prayer and felt resoundingly that Heavenly Father whispered to my spirit that the Church and the Book of Mormon were definitely true. My three-and-a-half-year period of reinvestigating the Church led me back wholeheartedly and convincingly to its truthfulness.”

Let me share with you a modern-day miracle which occurred several years ago at Murray High School near Salt Lake City, where every person was a winner and not a loser was to be found.
A newspaper article highlighted the event. The article was entitled “Tears, Cheers and True Spirit: Students Elect 2 Disabled Girls to Murray Royalty.” The article began: “Ted and Ruth Eyre did what any parents would do.
“When their daughter, Shellie, became a finalist for Murray High School homecoming queen, they counseled her to be a good sport in case she didn’t win. They explained only one girl among the 10 candidates would be selected queen. …
“As student body officers crowned the school’s homecoming [royalty] in the school gym Thursday night, Shellie Eyre experienced, instead, inclusion. The 17-year-old senior, born with Down syndrome, was selected by fellow students as homecoming queen. … As Ted Eyre escorted his daughter onto the gym floor as the candidates were introduced, the gym erupted into deafening cheers and applause. They were greeted with a standing ovation.”
Similar standing ovations were extended to Shellie’s attendants, one of whom, April Perschon, has physical and mental disabilities resulting from a brain hemorrhage suffered when she was just 10 years old.
When the ovations had ceased, the school’s vice principal said, “‘Tonight … the students voted on inner beauty.’ … Obviously moved, parents, school administrators and students wept openly.”
Said one student, “I’m so happy, I cried when they came out. I think Murray High is so awesome to do this.”
I extend a heartfelt “thank you” to one and all who made this night one ever to be remembered. The Scottish poet James Barrie’s words seem appropriate: “God gave us memories, that we might have June roses in the December of our lives.”

In 1976, President The was imprisoned in Thành Ông N?m. He was desperate for news of his wife and children, but all he knew about his family’s whereabouts came from a telegram from the president of the Hong Kong Mission: “Lien and family fine. With Church.”
Now, more than a year later, The wondered when he would be free again.
Life in the prison camp was degrading. The and his fellow captives were housed in rat-infested barracks. They slept on beds made of steel slabs. Meager and spoiled food, along with the unsanitary conditions in camp, left the men vulnerable to sicknesses like dysentery and beriberi.
Reeducation on the new government’s principles involved backbreaking labor and political indoctrination. Anyone who broke camp rules could expect a brutal beating or solitary confinement.
The had survived so far by lying low and clinging to his faith. For a time, he contemplated escaping from the camp. But he felt the Lord restrain him. “Be patient,” the Spirit whispered. “All will be well in the due time of the Lord.”
Sometime later, The learned that his sister, Ba, would be allowed to visit him in the camp. If he could slip her a letter to his family, she could send it to them.
On the day of Ba’s visit, The waited in line as guards conducted full-body searches of the prisoners ahead of him. He had hidden the message behind the cloth band on the inside of his hat. He had then placed a small notebook and pen into the hat. With any luck, the notebook would distract the guards.
They examined the pen and notebook, then let him pass.
Soon, The saw his sister and pressed the letter into her hands. He wept as Ba gave him some food and money. He trusted that she would get his letter to Lien.
Six months later, Ba returned to the camp with a letter. Inside was a photograph of Lien and the children. He realized that he could wait no longer.
He had to find a way out of the camp and into the arms of his family.
Nguyen Van The and his wife, Le My Lien, with their son in 1973. She and their three children found refuge in the United States, but The was forced to attend a prison camp. Later, he said, “I was able to survive the ‘reeducation’ camp because … I had faith in Jesus Christ.”
As part of its mission to care for families, LDS Social Services had arranged with Church members in the United States to care for about 550 Vietnamese refugees, most of whom were not members of the Church. Lien and her family were sponsored by Philip Flammer, a professor at Brigham Young University, and his wife, Mildred. They helped the family relocate from California to Provo, Utah.
At first, Lien struggled to find work. Philip took her to a thrift store to apply for a janitorial position. But during the interview, the manager tore her high school diploma in half and told her, “This does not apply here.”
She soon found temporary work picking cherries at a nearby orchard. She then found work as a seamstress and added to her income by baking wedding cakes. With help from Philip, she also earned money by typing reports for BYU students.
Amid her family’s hardships, Lien remained faithful to the Lord. She taught her children about the power of prayer, knowing it could carry them through their ordeals.
Then, in late 1977, Lien learned that her husband was in a refugee camp in Malaysia. He had managed to leave Vietnam on an old fishing boat after finally being released from Thành Ông N?m. Now he was ready to reunite with his family. All he needed was a sponsor.
Lien began working even more hours to save enough money to bring The to the United States.
In January 1978, Le My Lien sat nervously in a car headed for the Salt Lake City International Airport. She was on her way to meet her husband for the first time in nearly three years.
After arriving at the airport, Lien joined other friends and Church members who had come to welcome The.
Before long, Lien saw The descending an escalator. He looked pale and had a lost look in his eyes. But at the sight of Lien, he called out to her. Emotion welled in Lien’s chest.
She pulled The into a hug. “Thank God in heaven,” she whispered, “you are home at last!”

One summer, my youth choir took a tour to all of the main Church history sites. We had the opportunity to perform concerts in places like Liberty Jail, the Kirtland Temple, and even the Sacred Grove.
While it was a great opportunity to visit the places where the gospel was restored, I had an even more powerful experience realizing that we were preaching the word of God through our music. For instance, as we sang “The Spirit of God” (Hymns, no. 2), I felt that we were testifying of the Lord’s Church and of the blessings of having the gospel in our lives. I felt that we were bringing people to Christ.
By the time the tour was over, my testimony had been strengthened so much, and I had seen many of the other choir members’ testimonies grow too. I also hope and pray that we were able to touch the lives of the many people who listened to us. By sharing the word of the Lord through music, we had a great missionary experience. I am now preparing for my full-time mission, and I look forward to continuing to preach the gospel.

Institute Celebrates with Service Weekend
During a break in university terms, the three Hamilton stakes and the young single adult ward focused on enrolling for institute for the next semester. The theme for the institute weekend was “Joseph Smith and Young Adults—True to the Values.” Following a mix-and-meet opening activity, the activity turned toward service.
Project number one was at Hamon’s Bush, just west of the Temple View Community, where Elder and Sister Roger Hamon are serving as missionaries. The young adults planted native trees on what has come to be known as Institute Hill.
Project number two saw young adults mingling with other Temple View stake members in another tree-planting project for the Hamilton City Council.
The third service project involved making quilts and donating soft toys for the children’s ward at the Waikato Hospital. The young adults donated 29 quilts and 4 large sacks of soft toys to the hospital during this activity.
Spearheading the toy project was Amy Howard, who said recent stays with her son in the hospital made her want to do something to brighten it up for the young patients. The children will be able to play with the toys and take one of their favorites home with them after their stay.

In the space of only a few years, my life turned inside out. When people would talk about the young adult years as being an exciting time of life, I felt more than discouraged. Everything was falling apart for me, and things seemed to be coming to an end rather than joyfully beginning.
After years of struggling (to put it very lightly), I came across an address by Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf where he said: “When we step back and take an eternal perspective, when we look at our lives in the frame of the gospel of Jesus Christ, we can begin to see how the various dots in our lives interconnect. We may not be able to see the entire picture just yet, but we’ll see enough to trust that there is a beautiful, grand design. And as we strive to trust God and follow His Son, Jesus Christ, one day we will see the finished product, and we will know that the very hand of God was directing and guiding our steps.”9
I desperately wanted to have the dots connect for my life, and so in the midst of my very chaotic circumstances, I held on to what Elder Uchtdorf promised.
And in some ways, after a couple of years, the dots did start to finally connect! Nothing is perfect by any means, but there have been things that have connected enough for me to see that Elder Uchtdorf was right.
So although my story isn’t complete and is still a little scary at times, God has given me enough to not give up!
Jessica Anne Lawrence, Intern for YA Weekly

Several years ago I heard about a good brother who described his attitude as President David O. McKay gave the concluding talk of general conference. It was a sultry afternoon, and this was the fifth session he had attended. He was sitting in the balcony, and his mind had a serious wandering problem. He noticed a man sitting in the middle section who had fallen asleep with his head tilted back and his mouth open. It occurred to him that if he were in the roof of the Tabernacle, he could drop a spit wad through one of the vent holes right into the mouth of that sleeping man. What a glorious thought!

Following the meeting, he overheard two men talking about their feelings during President McKay’s talk. They were visibly moved by what they had heard. He thought to himself, These two brethren were having a marvelous spiritual experience, and what was I doing? Thinking about dropping spit wads from the ceiling!

My father spent much of his life teaching, learning and writing. The last decade of his life he had Parkinsons' disease. While his body gradually broke down, his active mind continued to yearn for learning. He would often say a person needs to use his mind or his brain to fulfill his nature as God's child and unless he gets excited about ideas, about learning; unless he reads books and talks about ideas, and not just the weather and people, he will not fulfill that nature. On one visit to his home during the last year of his life I said: "Dad, what are you reading?" He said: "The Book of Mormon." I said, where are you in the book and how long have you been reading it? His reply: "I began Monday and I'm in Moroni." It was Wednesday. Even with this debilitating disease, his mind was still alert in his late 80's because he had always used it. To fulfill your divine nature, PURSUE AND LOVE INSPIRED LEARNING!

As Heber grew older, his persistence and fortitude were put to good use in business ventures. Offered an appointment to the United States Naval Academy, he opted to stay near his mother and to become a businessman instead.7 After finishing his schooling at age 16, Heber got a job as a bank clerk and learned bookkeeping. His honesty, ability to work hard, and great desire to learn soon opened up many opportunities. By the time he was 20 years old, he had been made the assistant cashier of Zion’s Savings Bank and Trust Company, and he had purchased an insurance agency.8

The story is told there of the grandfather who took his five-year-old grandson for a walk around town. Ultimately, they found themselves at a small grocery store on Main Street where they stopped for a cold soda pop. A car from out of state pulled up and the driver approached the old-timer. Pointing to a small cloud in the sky, the stranger asked, “Do you think it’s going to rain?”
“I certainly hope so,” replied the old man, “if not for my sake, for the boy’s. I’ve seen it rain.”
Hope is an emotion which brings richness to our everyday lives. It is defined as “the feeling that … events will turn out for the best.” When we exercise hope, we “look forward … with desire and reasonable confidence” (dictionary.reference.com/browse/hope). As such, hope brings a certain calming influence to our lives as we confidently look forward to future events.

Will and Anna are best friends. At recess, they play tag. Anna pushes Will’s wheelchair. They chase the other kids. Will reaches his hand out to tag them. Recess is lots of fun!
Sometimes it takes Will a long time to say his words. But Anna listens. She wants to hear what Will says.
Will listens to Anna’s silly jokes.
“What’s a pirate’s favorite letter?” Anna asks.
Will smiles and shakes his head.
“Arrr!” Anna says.
Will laughs. He makes a pirate hook with his finger.
“What music are balloons scared of?” Anna asks.
“What?” says Will.
“Pop music!”
Anna and Will laugh and laugh.
At lunch, Anna and Will eat together. Will has a helper. She helps him eat his lunch. Anna likes to talk with her too. Will’s favorite food is peanut butter. Anna’s favorite food is apples. The best food is peanut butter and apples together!
Sometimes Will and Anna play after school. They like to build with blocks. Will builds tall towers. Anna builds castles. Together they build lots of fun things!
Will has a hard time stacking the blocks. But he keeps trying. Anna finds red blocks for him. Red is Will’s favorite color.
Sometimes Will’s arms move funny. But it’s OK. Anna doesn’t mind. Sometimes she knocks a tower over. Whoops! But Will doesn’t mind.
Will and Anna are best friends. They help each other. Will likes to make Anna smile. Anna likes to make Will smile. They are happy to be friends.
Will is a child of God, and Anna is a child of God. God loves them. He is happy they are friends too.

The other account I will share—which most will also likely find amusing—occurred while he was serving as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve. Although usually a strength, his dogged determination and almost complete focus on his work was also a cause for worry on occasion not only for his family but also for the top leadership of the Church. Let me again return to the account recorded by John Talmage:

In later years, James’ long hours of work, unrelieved by periods of recreation, were cause for real concern among family, friends, and associates. President Heber J. Grant [the president of the Church], for one, repeatedly urged Dr. Talmage to take up some form of sport, if only for its therapeutic value. Himself an enthusiastic golfer, President Grant tried to get his friend to try that sport, confident (as are all golfers) that if anyone were once thoroughly exposed to golf he would be captivated by its subtle but powerful attractions.

As President Grant’s urgings increased in frequency and intensity, so did Dr. Talmage’s demurrers on the grounds of lack of interest and lack of ability to master a complicated skill so late in life. President Grant was certain the skill could be mastered and that interest would automatically follow. Finally a compromise was reached, and a test agreed upon: James would give the game of golf an honest trial, and work at it until he was able to hit a drive which President Grant would rate as satisfactory, “a real golf shot.”

“If you hit just one really good drive, nature will do the rest,” President Grant assured his pupil-to-be. “You won’t be able to resist the game after that.”

It was agreed that James would make his own choice after he had acquired the skill to hit the specified shot. If he felt the fascination of the game, as President Grant was certain he would, he would take up golf and play with reasonable regularity. If, after giving the game a fair trial, James still felt no interest, President Grant would cease his efforts to get Dr. Talmage to play.

On an appointed day, the two, accompanied by a number of others of the General Authorities who played golf and who had joined the friendly argument on the side of President Grant, proceeded to Nibley Park for James’ first session in what was expected to be a series of lessons.

James removed his coat and was shown how to grip the club and take his stance at the ball. The coordinated movements involved in making a golf stroke were carefully explained and then demonstrated by President Grant and by others. Finally it came James’ turn to try it himself.

What followed astonished all those who watched, and probably James himself. Instead of missing the ball completely, or weakly pushing it a few feet along the grass, James somehow managed to strike the ball cleanly and with substantial force. It took off in a fine arc and with only a minimum amount of slice. Some who saw it described it later as “a truly magnificent drive,” which was probably a considerable exaggeration. However, there was consensus that the ball went close to 200 yards and stayed in the fairway. It was a drive that would have gladdened the heart of any golfer short of the expert class, and it bordered on the phenomenal for a novice.

The spectators were momentarily struck dumb, then burst into enthusiastic applause.

“Congratulations,” said President Grant, rushing forward, beaming, with outstretched hand. “That was a fine shot you will remember for the rest of your life.”

“You mean that was a fully satisfactory golf shot?” James asked, cautiously.

“It certainly was!” said President Grant.

“Then I have fulfilled my part of the agreement?”

“You have—and don’t you feel the thrill of excitement? Now you’ll be playing regularly. As a matter of fact, we can go into the clubhouse now and I will help you select a set of clubs.”

“Thank you,” said James, putting on his coat. “If I have carried out my part of the agreement, then I shall call on you to live up to yours. You promised that if I hit a satisfactory drive and did not feel the spontaneous desire to play, you would stop urging me to do so. Now I should like to get back to the office, where I have a great deal of work waiting.”

So far as is known, James never again struck a golf ball, or made the attempt. [The Talmage Story, 226–28; emphasis in original]

It is very clear that Brother Talmage was always absolutely supportive and obedient to the prophet on matters of doctrine, principle, and Church practice or procedure, but he did not consider his loyalty to the Brethren to extend to their love of golf!

Brother Talmage was his own man, but he was also a man of impeccable character. He decided to do what he considered was really important and deflected those things of lesser or no priority.

Traci and her family were preparing to move to a new house. Before they moved, she wanted to do something special for the people in her old neighborhood. She thought of many things she might take to her neighbors—cakes, cookies, or other treats. But she wanted this gift to be something they would always remember. Six-year-old Traci wanted to share her testimony with them. With her mother’s help, she wrote down her testimony. She made a copy for each neighbor. Then she visited each house on her street, leaving her love, her smile, and her testimony.

A lot of children at school use language that makes me uncomfortable. My mom and I said a prayer to ask for courage and to know the best thing to do. The next day when they started to use that language, I politely said, “Please stop using those words. It makes me feel uncomfortable.” They said, “OK, sorry.” That made me feel happy inside, and I was glad I learned that Heavenly Father will help me when I ask for help.