Gospel Story Finder

I would like to mention an experience to indicate what I think he meant when he said, “… unto him will I give power to bring forth my word … and not to the bringing forth my word only, … but to the convincing them of my word, which shall have already gone forth among them.”

While I was on my first mission in Holland, I was invited to speak to a Bible class of businessmen in The Hague. They met every week, holding a Bible class. We met in the home of a prominent furniture dealer; the only woman there was the daughter of the man of the house.

They invited me to speak for an hour and a half and explain our doctrine of universal salvation, which includes the work for the dead. I gave them chapter and verse and let them read these passages from their own Bibles so they would believe more completely, as they seemed to think we have a different Bible. Then I closed my Bible and laid it on the table, folded my arms, and waited for their comments.

The first comment came from the daughter of the man of the house. She said, “Father, I just can’t understand it. I have never attended one of these Bible classes in my life that you haven’t had the last word to say on everything, and tonight you haven’t said a word.”

The father shook his head and said, “My daughter, there isn’t anything to say.” He said, “This man has been teaching us things we have never heard of, and has been teaching them to us out of our own Bibles.”

That is what the Lord meant when he said that the prophet he would raise up would not only bring forth his word, but would bring men to the convincing of his word that had already gone forth among them.

Mommy stopped at Austin’s bedroom door. She looked around the messy room. There were books, trucks, puzzles, blocks, and stuffed animals scattered all over. Mommy stepped over the clutter and into the room. “Austin, did you make this mess?”
Austin looked up from his stack of blocks. “Not me, Mommy.”
“Then who made this mess?” Mommy asked. She knelt down next to a large dump truck. “Dump truck, did you make this mess?”
“Mommy!” Austin giggled. “Dump trucks can’t make a mess. Trucks can’t even talk. But I can.” He snatched up his truck. “Brrrm. Brrrm.” Austin drove the truck into the toy box.
“Who made this mess?” Mommy asked. She scooped up a handful of puzzle pieces. “Puzzle, did you make this mess?”
Austin said, “Puzzles can’t make a mess. Puzzles don’t have fingers to use. But I do. I can pick the pieces up like this.” Austin dumped all the puzzle pieces into their box on the shelf.
“Who made this mess?” Mommy asked. She stood up and leaned over the bookcase. “Books, did you make this mess?”
Austin rolled his eyes. “Books can’t make a mess. Books can’t even jump from high places. But I can.” Austin climbed onto a chair and jumped into Mommy’s arms. She put him down. Austin bent over and picked up some books. He climbed back onto the chair and set the books on the shelf.
“Who made this mess?” Mommy asked. She gathered together three teddy bears. “Teddy bears, did you make this mess?”
“Teddy bears can’t make a mess,” Austin said. “Teddy bears can’t even turn somersaults. But I can.” Austin crouched low, tucked his head under, and flipped over. He stood up, gathered the bears in his arms, and laid them on the windowsill.
“Who made this mess?” Mommy asked. She picked up a stuffed lion. “Lion, did you make this mess?”
Austin said, “The lion can’t make a mess. The lion can’t even give hugs. But I can.” Austin gave Mommy a hug. He took the lion and gently placed it on the bed.
“Know what, Mommy?” Austin said. “Toys can’t make a mess, but I can. I made this mess.”
Mommy leaned over and gave Austin another hug. “Austin, you made this mess. But you cleaned it up, too. You are my big helper.”
Mommy’s face grew serious. “You did something besides making a mess, Austin. You told Mommy a lie. But you cleaned that up, too, by telling the truth. Toys can’t tell the truth. But you can.”
Austin smiled. Being a big helper felt good. Being a truth-teller felt even better.

We have always learnt about the importance of serving a mission and being a missionary even if we have not had an opportunity to labor full time in the mission field. What a great privilege it is to watch our children learn about the Savior and to develop a willing heart to serve in the Lord’s vineyard. “And all thy children shall be taught of the Lord; and great shall be the peace of thy children” (Isaiah 54:13). Fulfilling this command, recently, the New Delhi India Stake Primary presidency organized a fun-filled activity for Primary children where they could learn about the process of becoming a missionary.
These beautiful children aged between 4–11 were welcomed to the activity by stake Primary leaders and were given individual missionary name tags and a letter extending a call to serve in the “Vasant Vihar Mission” for four hours. The children then boarded an airplane. They were served a snack and informed that they would be landing at the missionary training center soon. At the MTC the new missionary force was divided into companionships and received instruction which included games emphasizing missionary rules, specifically to stay close to and cooperate with their companions.
After lunch, President and Sister Ramakrishna reviewed the first principles and ordinances of the gospel of Jesus Christ with the senior Primary children and practiced their door approaches. Each companionship had the opportunity to knock on a door and share a brief lesson with “investigators.”
Meanwhile, the junior Primary children enjoyed movies and a coloring activity. The activity was wrapped up by making handwritten cards for the missionaries serving in New Delhi.
Jaden John, an eight-year-old Primary child said that this was the best activity he had ever attended. “I learned the four principles of the gospel, “he said, “and how to be a missionary.” Vivek Kumar said he learned, “that we have to follow the principles that God has given us.”
These young minds were nourished and nurtured by good instruction. Every child seemed to be saying, “I hope that I can share the gospel with those who want to know the truth. I want to be a missionary . . . And serve the Lord while I am in my youth.”
Indeed, these children are like the army of Helaman who are being taught in their youth to be the Lord’s missionaries and to bring the world his truth. Let us be comforted to know that there is no better work to be involved in than missionary work.

Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles was once asked how to keep home life, work life, and family life in balance. His answer was probably unexpected.
“You can’t,” he said. “So don’t worry about it.”1
After a short chuckle, Elder Bednar offered some clarification. “Balance is a false notion,” he taught. “You can only do one thing at one time.”
He then compared balancing various areas of our lives to an acrobat’s spinning multiple plates on the ends of sticks. Each plate requires regular spinning so that it won’t wobble and fall.
“Can [the acrobat] get all the plates spinning at exactly the same speed at exactly the same time?” Elder Bednar asked. “Nope. One is always closer to spinning off.”
“That’s life,” Elder Bednar continued. He explained how each of us must keep our various plates in the air by giving them attention as needed.
He also included a caution: “It’s probably the case that you cannot spin 17 plates. With the help of the Holy Ghost … we can identify the two, three, or four most important plates that always need to be spinning.”

President Wilford Woodruff once had a remarkable experience to which I would like to refer. He first publicly mentioned the incident at general conference in October of 1880. Sixteen years later he gave further details in a discourse delivered at the Weber Stake conference, and his remarks were published in The Deseret Weekly. In the 1880 conference President Woodruff told of dreams he had after the death of the Prophet Joseph Smith in which he conversed with the Prophet many times. He then related another dream in which he talked with Brigham Young, and this is what he said about it:
“I saw Brother Brigham and Brother Heber ride in [a] carriage ahead of the carriage in which I rode when I was on my way to attend conference; and they were dressed in the most priestly robes. When we arrived at our destination I asked Prest. Young if he would preach to us. He said, ‘No, I have finished my testimony in the flesh I shall not talk to this people any more. But (said he) I have come to see you; I have come to watch over you, and to see what the people are doing. Then (said he) I want you to teach the people—and I want you to follow this counsel yourself—that they must labor and so live as to obtain the Holy Spirit, for without this you cannot build up the kingdom; without the spirit of God you are in danger of walking in the dark, and in danger of failing to accomplish your calling as apostles and as elders in the church and kingdom of God. And, said he, Brother Joseph taught me this principle.’” (Journal of Discourses, 21:318.)
President Woodruff then went on to say of that experience, as he spoke at the Weber Stake conference, essentially what I want to say today: “Every man and woman in this Church should labor to get that Spirit. We are surrounded by these evil spirits that are at war against God and against everything looking to the building up of the kingdom of God; and we need this Holy Spirit to enable us to overcome these influences.” (Deseret Weekly, 7 Nov. 1896, p. 643.)

Fanny’s Dream, by Caralyn Buehner, illustrated by Mark Buehner. Fanny is a hard-working farm girl who waits for her fairy godmother and dreams of marrying a handsome prince. But when Heber proposes, Fanny decides to marry him. Then one night, Fanny’s fairy godmother shows up. What will she do?

Living the Young Women Values has helped Joanne Larsen of the Calgary Alberta 12th Ward introduce the Church to a friend. In Young Women meeting they talked about giving a copy of the Book of Mormon to a friend. This class goal got Joanne interested, and she gave a copy to her friend. She also invited her friend to girls’ camp and to ward activities. Now the friend is taking the discussions from missionaries in Joanne’s home.

Talented footballer, Jordan Taylor, from the Kawana Waters Ward in Queensland, Australia, was appointed the Wodonga Bulldog senior football coach in late 2020.
He, with his wife, Alyssa, moved to the Victorian border town of Wodonga, near the town of Finley, NSW where he grew up. It was there, years ago, that Jordan had chosen to serve a full-time mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and was assigned to the New Zealand Hamilton Mission.
Speaking of his decision to serve a mission, Jordan says, “I always knew that I wanted to do that, but at the same time, I had strong aspirations to make AFL [Australian Football League]. . . . I knew I wanted to give a little bit back to those who may not be as blessed as I am.”
The decision to put life plans on hold and to trust in the Lord and serve a mission is a familiar feeling for many members of the Church. Sometimes it means giving up opportunities to progress in areas they have dedicated themselves to during their teenage years.
“I think when you don’t get so absorbed in yourself, what’s good or bad in your own life, and you start thinking about others, it actually takes the weight off your own shoulders to some extent.
“On the mission, your sole focus is to help others. Whether it be by community service, English-speaking programs, or teaching some of our religious doctrines, it’s all about helping other people,” Jordan said.
His mission blessed him with many skills that have helped him propel his life and career forward.
“Teaching experiences on the mission and just being focused on Christ and others helped me as a coach. A mission is definitely a great prepper for a lot of different things—building relationships, getting to know people, teaching, and serving them.”
Since returning from his mission and finishing his B.Ed., Jordan has had experience as captain, vice-captain, gained his Level 1 AFL coaching accreditation and worked as a coach for private organisations.
“I’ve played under some really good coaches and have something I can offer within my playing and teaching experience,” he said. “I had coached some juniors, and this will be my first appointment as a senior coach.”

Shortly before my disciplinary council, I listened to general conference for the first time. At one point President Howard W. Hunter said: “To those who have transgressed or been offended, we say, come back. The path of repentance, though hard at times, lifts one ever upward and leads to a perfect forgiveness” (Ensign, November 1994, 8). I felt like he was talking directly to me. I thought to myself, I am coming back. I promise. I have a special love for President Hunter because he was the first prophet I ever really listened to.

Carrie dug through her duffel bag. Had she remembered to pack a skirt?
Yes—there it was, at the very, very bottom: a little dirty and a little wrinkled, but there!
Carrie ran out of the tent with her skirt on. “Look, Mom!” She twirled.
“Oh, I’m so glad you found it!” Mom wiped a smudge off of Carrie’s cheek. “Let’s get you in the car.”
Carrie ran across the campsite and climbed into the car with her younger brother and sister. Her brother, Bryan, had put on a tie, and Alaina had put on her dress.
They drove down the long, winding road out of the mountains.
“It’s so nice to get back in the valley!” Dad said.
Carrie nodded. She stared at the houses and big, important-looking buildings.
A few months ago, Dad’s job changed. Then just a few weeks ago, Mom and Dad told her that they couldn’t keep their house anymore. Carrie had packed her duffel bag, which Mom called her “life bag,” with her toothbrush, shoes, and some clothes. Whatever didn’t fit, like toys, she had left behind. The only extra thing she’d been able to bring was her violin.
At first it was fun living at a campsite. But camping for weeks and weeks wasn’t so fun. They didn’t have extra money for gas, so they never got to go anywhere else. But today they were going to church. Carrie would finally be able to go to Primary again!
The further they drove, the more Carrie’s stomach tied itself into tight knots. She liked to look her best for church. But the campsite didn’t have showers, and her fingernails and the creases of her hands were filled with dirt. She couldn’t wash or braid her hair either.
They pulled up to the church. Bryan and Alaina climbed out quickly with Mom and Dad. Carrie followed slowly, her arms folded tight.
When it was finally time for Primary, Carrie kept her eyes on her sneakers. Some kids stared, but others were really nice. She talked with a few kids, but it was hard to try to make friends. She probably wouldn’t see them again.
When they got back up to the campsite at the end of the day, Carrie’s heart was heavy. She missed her old Primary, and she missed staying in one place and seeing the same friends every week. Mom and Dad said they wouldn’t be at the campsite for too much longer, but Carrie didn’t know where they’d live next.
After a while, Carrie pulled out her violin. At first she just played a few notes here and there. She paced beneath the tall trees and looked out at the meadow. Carrie took a big, deep breath and said a prayer in her heart. She told Heavenly Father how sad and hurt she’d felt today. She wanted to have a house again so that they didn’t have to stay in this campsite anymore.
Finally Carrie raised her violin. Slowly she started to play her favorite Primary song. She sang along in her head.
“I am like a star shining brightly, smiling for the whole world to see.”
Carrie looked up between the tall trees. Violin music filled the campground. This song reminded her that Heavenly Father had created a beautiful world. He made everything perfectly and with love—including her. Heavenly Father loved her for her.
Carrie smiled as she played the last lines: “I can do and say happy things each day, for I know Heavenly Father loves me.”
Carrie grew up to be a violin teacher who helps people feel comfort and belonging through music. She and her children share music to raise money for community food pantries to help other people in need. You can read more about Carrie and her family in “Gabriel’s Cello” (Friend, Dec. 2017).

Youth walked uphill for long stretches and gave each other encouragement and were willing to step in and take their turn pushing or pulling the load to give each other a break.
Many times the group would stop to allow the handcarts to catch up, and a request would be made for those who were willing and able to help others. The youth did not have to be asked twice. They would jump at the chance to serve, to walk back up a rocky incline or back down a steep section of trail to help the lagging handcarts.

A number of years ago a friend of mine called me on the telephone and asked me if I would come to the hospital and give him a blood transfusion. Then as I lay there and watched the blood run out of my arm, I asked the nurse how many blood transfusions I could safely give in the course of a year, and she said that it would be perfectly all right if I gave four. That is, if it were necessary, I could save the lives of four people each year by a transfusion of my blood.
A few years later I found myself on the other end of this great miracle of transfusion. During and after some major surgery, I was given nine blood transfusions wherein a majority of my total blood supply was exchanged. One afternoon when the intern wasn’t very busy, he figured out for me that in this process I had received 27 billion white corpuscles, and as he described their function, I thought of these 27 billion little medical men dressed in white uniforms going throughout my system killing the disease and fighting the infection that otherwise might have terminated my life. But then, in addition to that, he pointed out that I had also received 18 trillion red corpuscles. These were the little engineers that carried oxygen and nutrition to every one of my locations to keep me in business. And all of this came for just the few dollars that I had previously put into the blood bank. (Incidentally, I asked the intern if he would figure out how much money I was paying per corpuscle, but he thought that problem would be a little bit complicated.)

Down in Hobart, Tasmania, Selena Meure invited Sally Vellar to Sunday dinner and, in Sally’s words, “It was horrible. I have to be honest. It was terrible.”

Dinner was a disaster, and it had nothing to do with the food. In fact, when Selena and Sally talk (and laugh) about that time, the food itself is never mentioned.

It started when Selena swallowed her fear and decided to participate in her ward’s set-a-date program. Lacking the nerve to ask the Lord for something more specific, Selena prayed that she would be presented with a situation that would show her who was the right person for her to try to fellowship. What she did next was brave. Selena set a date for the missionaries to come to dinner at her house, a dinner where she would have her unknown investigator present.

As the date approached, Selena was talking about it with a new friend, a convert of about two years named Stephen. He offered to bring his nonmember sister, Sally. “I thought, there’s my answer,” Selena says. So they went to see Sally.

Now, Selena claims she told Sally the missionaries would be there. Sally doesn’t remember that part. She simply recalls that her brother showed up with a girl she barely knew from school, and that girl invited her to Sunday dinner. Great. That’s a nice, friendly thing to do. In fact, the invitation was extended to another friend of Sally’s, too.

But Sunday arrived and the friend didn’t show. So Sally went to what she thought would be a quiet dinner with a few new friends. And that’s when the disaster struck. There was Sally, casually dressed in jeans, walking into a house full of Mormons still dressed in their Sunday clothes. In addition to Selena’s family, there were four missionaries (two of them had sort of invited themselves at the last minute). “I just sort of went, ‘Aaaagh!’” Sally recalls.

After dinner, the missionaries tried to give a presentation on the Savior, but the light was bad, and Sally was so uncomfortable she could hardly concentrate. Afterward, the missionaries asked her if she would like to take the discussions, but she was still feeling kind of numb and put them off with excuses about schoolwork.

That night, though, as she sorted out her thoughts, Sally decided, “Maybe I should just find out about it.” So she agreed to the discussions. And that’s all it took. “After the first discussion I just thought, Man, this is excellent. I love it. I have to know more.” She had the first four discussions in one week.

Sally encountered tremendous opposition from some of her friends at school, people who told her that if she joined the Mormons, they would have nothing to do with her. But the Spirit had born witness. And when she got discouraged, the elders gave her blessings.

It was August, the middle of the Australian winter, when Sally (at her request) was baptized in the ocean. Afterward, everyone got cold, wet hugs. Her brother Stephen confirmed her. Not bad for something that began as a disaster.

Actually, the missionary work never ends. Emily wants to be married in the temple and raise her children in the Church. Ben plans to go on a mission. At last report Sally was working to introduce a friend to the gospel. But first it has to begin. And it begins with friendship. It begins with letting your membership and your values be known. And it begins with faith that if you do your part, the Lord will do his.

Things were all set for a really fun weekend. My friend Tara and I had set up a girls-ask group date with some young men in our stake, and we were excited. A popular movie had just been released from theaters to DVD, and we were going to watch it all together at a friend’s house.
And then Nathan, my date, called.
“You know, Jennifer,” he said, “I’ve been thinking. Maybe we should do something else tonight.”
A panicky feeling gripped my chest. Was Nathan backing out of the date?
“Umm, what do you mean?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking.
“Well,” he continued, “I think that movie is just going to be watching hours of battles. Could we do something else instead?”
The panicky feeling left as I realized he was right. The movie, even though it was popular and didn’t have a bad rating, did have a lot of violence in it.
“That’s a great idea,” I said. “You got it.”
I called Tara, and we decided to have a board game night instead. It ended up being much more fun and social than staring at the TV for a couple of hours.
I feel so grateful that Nathan was willing to tell me how he really felt about the movie. His high standards were a great example to me and pushed my standards even higher. Since then, I’ve avoided a lot of other movies that, when I stop and think about it, aren’t very uplifting or fun, even if the rating isn’t that bad or if they’re really popular. I also never felt offended that Nathan didn’t like our original activity. That has given me the strength to speak up in situations when my standards are at stake. Nathan didn’t offend anyone by being honest about his feelings, and so I learned that, even if some people do take offense, I shouldn’t worry about standing up for my values either.

Moses Gives Keys of the Gathering of Israel, 1836. “The heavens were again opened unto us; and Moses appeared before us, and committed unto us the keys of the gathering of Israel from the four parts of the earth, and the leading of the ten tribes from the land of the north” (D&C 110:11).

Andrew liked to rush home after school to put on his jeans, soft flannel shirt, and sneakers. These clothes were perfect for climbing the cherry tree. Andrew would play for hours in the tree until his mother called for him to come inside. Of course he didn’t play in it every day. But even on days when he had other places to go, like to a baseball game or sledding with his best friend, Jeremy, Andrew would smile whenever he passed the cherry tree.
Andrew remembered certain things about the tree that made it special each season. For instance, one spring he’d left his teddy bear up in the cherry tree overnight, and it had rained. The next morning the soggy teddy bear resting among all the fluffy blossoms looked like a lost mitten in a pile of new snow.
During the summer Andrew and Jeremy kept their jars of fireflies beside the tree trunk. They would climb the tree and talk about the fine tree house they would build as soon as they had enough money for lumber.
If Andrew had to pick a time when he thought the tree was most beautiful, he’d probably choose autumn, when the leaves changed into their brilliant colors. When he stood in the piles of leaves that fell to the ground, their good smell made him think of frost and log cabins and other things.
When winter snows fell, the cherry tree became a hitching post for sleds.
Jeremy liked the tree almost as much as Andrew did. They’d climb as high as they could in it, then tell each other secrets and make plans that no one could overhear. Their biggest plan this fall was to gather all the pinecones they could, cover them with peanut butter, roll them in birdseed, and set them in the cherry tree limbs for the birds. They knew their plan wouldn’t be ruined if someone overheard it, but whispering about it among the branches of their favorite tree made their idea more special.
On an Indian summer Saturday, Jeremy climbed the tree so he could sit and think. When Andrew came out of his house, Jeremy called down to him. Andrew could see his friend through an open spot in the orange red foliage. When Andrew had settled onto his favorite branch, Jeremy told him that his family was moving! His dad had bought a toy manufacturing company in Florida, and they were going to move there in November.
Andrew thought Jeremy’s secret was just about the most important secret he’d ever been told. They whispered excitedly about all the fun things Jeremy was going to get to do, like swimming in the ocean all year round. When they ran out of ideas about what Florida would be like, they talked about their pinecone plan. It was then that they realized that Jeremy might not be there to help Andrew put the peanut-butter pinecones out for the birds! Before they climbed down, they made a pact to pray every night from then until November for snow to come early so that they could try their pinecone plan before Jeremy had to move.
Each day Andrew noticed more leaves beneath the tree. He knew autumn would soon become winter. He prayed harder than ever that snow would come soon. Jeremy did too.
But November came, without any snow, and Jeremy’s family was ready to move. The boys decided that they wouldn’t cry, but it wasn’t easy. Even though Andrew knew Jeremy had to go, he felt deserted. Gathering pinecones wouldn’t be much fun without his best friend.
Snow fell the very next day after Jeremy left. Andrew moped around the house all morning. The more he thought about Jeremy, the worse he felt. Finally his mother suggested that he go out for a walk. He put on a jacket and went outside.
Crossing the bridge over the creek, Andrew missed Jeremy. Walking along the path into the woods, Andrew missed him too. But he missed Jeremy most when he was almost home and he came to the cherry tree. As Andrew solemnly stared at the tree, he spied a brown bag under it, partially hidden by snow and dead leaves. Hurriedly pushing aside the snow and the leaves, he lifted out the lumpy bag. As soon as he did, Andrew knew what was inside: pinecones! Jeremy had gathered them and left them there for him!
Andrew climbed up the cherry tree to a sturdy branch below the old secret-telling ones. He curled up into a comfortable position and daydreamed about his and Jeremy’s gift for the birds—a Christmas cherry tree decorated with pinecone ornaments of birdseed glitter and peanut-butter glue.

I know I’m in a pickle
When Daddy starts to tickle,
And I wish I had a nickel
For every time he does!
His arm looks like a glider
As his fingers open wider;
Then he says he is a spider,
And I often wish he was!
For spiders only squiggle,
Maybe jump, and maybe jiggle,
But they never make me giggle
As they brush across my toes!
Oh, I’m really not so fickle;
And I’m not in such a pickle,
‘Cause I do like Daddy’s tickle,
And now—oh, oh!—here he goes!

Harold Connolly had broken his left arm several times. It was only two-thirds the size of his right. To exercise and build up the smaller arm, he began throwing the hammer back to Boston College’s regular throwers. Soon he was tossing it back farther than they were throwing it, so he entered the event. He later broke the world record and won a gold medal. He made himself strongest where he was weakest.

A big decision following my mission was a career. What should I do? A new position opened with the Union Pacific Railroad Company as a passenger representative. After two months, other choices confronted me. An opportunity came to return to ZCMI in its finance division, plus part-time work as an early morning seminary teacher serving Salt Lake East High School; or to work as a mathematics teacher in Tucson, Arizona, High School, or as director of music at the Box Elder High School in Brigham City. I made it a matter of study and prayer. On an eventful afternoon I walked over to Temple Square during my lunch hour for a special, quiet prayer. The decision followed. The formula—prayer, study, work, consultation with parents and trusted friends—produced results.

Naomi Hug, 10, is the same age as her ward. On her ward’s 10th anniversary, she gave her first talk in sacrament meeting. She was surprised that she felt like crying! “The Spirit was so strong, I couldn’t say how much I felt it,” she wrote in her journal. She told ward members, “I’m thankful to have been born in the Church. I feel like I’m in a good place.”