Gospel Story Finder

The Lord can help you see the danger in taking a rest because you feel you have done enough. He helped me by letting me have a conversation with one of His aged servants. He was feeble, his body weakened by decades of faithful labor and by illness. His doctors no longer allowed him to leave his home. At his request, I reported a trip I had taken in the Lord’s service, across several nations, in dozens of meetings, and in many private interviews, helping individuals and families. I told him of the gratitude people expressed to me for him and his many years of service. He asked me if I had another assignment soon. I told him about another long trip soon to come. He surprised me, and he gave me an inoculation against complacency which I hope will last forever, when he grabbed my arm and said, “Oh, please, take me with you.”

The navy had experienced difficulties with the safety of newly installed equipment on its systems. These difficulties had at times threatened their lives. You may recall that the air force has had similar problems of late with some of their aircraft. The navy pondered what additional safety precautions were necessary and concluded that there was a simple solution. The civilian designers and manufacturers of the new systems would be required to test them. This is similar to the old approach used by ancient kings who employed tasters to shield them against the possibility of poison in their food. I was elected for this honor by my group to test a new computer system designed to enhance the capability of sonar to respond to underwater sounds.

I took the equipment and flew to the East Coast to board a ship known as a destroyer escort. It was named the USS Connole. On each ship was a plaque that gave the traditions and heroism of those who had contributed to its name—in other words, the heritage for the current crew. Names are important, even on U.S. Navy ships. As I boarded, I was asked to give my name, social security number, and next of kin. I was somewhat sobered by the last question. This was not an experience I looked forward to, but my colleagues and I proceeded to install the computers, hoping to improve the sonar system’s sensitivity.

Our ship left port and joined a task force of several ships and submarines, and we got underway. After the first day I arose and went out on deck. Everything was calm. I had never observed such a smooth ocean surface before. I felt fine, with no trace of seasickness. As the day wore on, though, the sea became more troubled, the waves increasing in height to nearly five feet. When the ship hit the waves head-on, there was little undulation of the ship and I could keep my seasickness under control. But as more waves began to hit from the side, the ship tossed to and fro. (In life we tend to believe it is easier to confront problems head-on, but it often occurs that problems come from directions we least expect.) I went to my room and lay in bed, bracing myself between the wall and the side rails on the bed.

Then I noticed that the ship seemed to calm down even though the sea remained rough. I was informed that the ship had just actuated some small stabilizers that protruded from the hull to lessen the roll of the ship. Similarly, as we navigate through life, the gospel of Jesus Christ provides just such stability in our lives. Without it we find ourselves spiritually seasick.

I then observed another phenomena. The propeller and shaft of the ship were made of different metals than the hull. This creates a voltaic effect, giving rise to electrical currents that corrode the hull and shaft. To counteract this corrosion an opposing voltage is applied to the hull to cancel this current. So, too, do we need constant protection available through prayer to prevent spiritual erosion. Prayer keeps us intact spiritually.

As the cruise continued, I went to the sonar shack to talk with the operators. I was anxious that the test of our new system go well. I found the sonar crew relaxed and talking about the upcoming meal and about returning home after the cruise. There was no stress. Spirits were high.

Nevertheless, it was not unusual for Russian trawlers and occasionally Russian submarines to silently appear during tests of new systems. Whenever there was a task force of several ships present, this likelihood increased. But we were at peace, and there was no threat. Further, the task force was moving at moderate speed. Between the noise of the waves and the sound of the ship thrashing through the water, it would be difficult for a surface ship to hear an enemy submarine anyway. The sonar men took advantage of the calm situation, knowing that not much was expected of them.

Suddenly there was a loud alert on the ship’s public address system. It was the captain. He announced, “Attention, all hands! The sonar shack has just detected a Russian submarine. I have contacted the commander and requested permission to break from the task force and head in pursuit of the submarine. Permission has been granted. Man your stations!”

The mood in the sonar shack changed immediately. Had the captain misunderstood that we did not have any contact, or did he have a hunch that there must be an enemy submarine nearby? The sonar crew snapped into operation. Suddenly they began to look intently at the sonar displays they had previously only glanced at. This was the real test for the newly sensitized sonar system. Then, after a few moments, one of the sonar men called out, “I have a contact.” The ship set out in pursuit, joined by other members of the task force, several transmitting loud bursts of sound at the enemy submarine. Sound blast after sound blast was transmitted to cloak our own submarines’ sound signatures and chase off the enemy submarine. Again, comparing this situation to life, we are often called upon without warning to answer unexpected challenges. Being prepared in advance is the surest guarantee that we will be successful.

Having completed the testing of the sonar equipment in a fashion more adventurous than I had planned, I asked if there was some way to leave the ship and get home early. Not only were the waves of the sea continuing to worsen, but also a hurricane was forecast. The lieutenant commander assigned to watch out for me informed me that a helicopter was coming, and I could go home on it. We were about 200 miles out at sea, however, and this was near its maximum operating range.

As the helicopter arrived and hovered over the rear deck, the ship turned into the wind, cutting off the breeze to it. The helicopter dipped, then caught the deck, and crashed. That day I found that, just as in life, we often look for the easy way out, but we may have to stay the course. The trip home was rough, and when the ship finally arrived home in Norfolk, Virginia, I was relieved to be back on solid ground.

Time after time since this voyage, as I have struggled through life’s trials, I have been greatly comforted by the knowledge that Jesus Christ is our Savior—the enabler of our postmortal existence and the great stabilizing force in our lives when we are hit by life’s vagaries. Prayer provides the daily protection to help us remain spiritually intact and maintain our course, our direction made certain.

When we watch television, we probably don’t think about what a “fool” idea TV was once thought to be. We just take it for granted that it pulls pictures out of the air and then converts them into images that we can see on our TV sets. Little thought is given to how marvelous this means of communication is.
But the way it was invented is marvelous indeed.
Not widely known is the fact that television was actually invented by a fifteen-year-old boy, and if it were not for the urging of his high school teacher, the boy might never have gotten the patent for it.
It all began in the early 1920s in Rigby, Idaho, when a teacher, Justin Tolman, recognized a student’s genius. He saw a very rare potential in young Philo Farnsworth and did all he could as a teacher to encourage and develop the youth’s scientific talent.
Although Phil, as he was called by his family and friends, was busy with school and other activities—he played the violin in the school orchestra and taught himself how to play the piano—his inventive mind traveled far beyond the limits of the classroom and his community.
Most people who listened to Phil’s ideas weren’t able to understand the boy’s advanced concepts. And they didn’t put much faith in his theory that pictures could be sent through the air and instantly received and seen on screens hundreds, even thousands of miles away.
Phil’s teacher, Justin Tolman, was truly amazed at the youngster’s grasp of electronics and his ability to solve problems with innovative solutions. He watched for hours after school as Phil expertly drew diagrams on the blackboard, illustrating his television theory. Tolman was sure that, given the equipment to conduct experiments, the boy could produce this wonderful invention. But where could such elaborate equipment be found? Certainly not in the high school lab!
It wasn’t until several years later, when Phil was married and attending college, that he was able to get the financial backing he needed to perfect his television. Then, when he applied for a patent on his invention in 1927, he discovered that a man named Vladimir Zworykin, who worked for RCA, was applying for a similar patent. Which of these inventors should the patent be awarded to was a real problem for the United States Patent Office. From the documents his backers provided, it appeared that Vladimir had had the idea first.
But if Phil’s high school teacher, Justin Tolman, could be found, it was possible that the teacher could vouch for Phil’s claim of having had the concept for television first. Tolman was found, and the patent office asked him to appear before them. Assured that Tolman had no chance to talk to Phil beforehand, the patent authorities questioned Tolman at great length, and his memory proved to be excellent. He described in detail all the diagrams that Phil had drawn on the school blackboard as a student so many years before.
Impressed with Tolman’s clear description of Phil’s television, the patent office awarded the patent to the young inventor.
Philo Farnsworth, who died in 1971, had lived a very productive life and had been awarded a great number of patents in the field of electronics.

Recently, I was blessed to enjoy private time with my mother, who is housebound and now speaks little. Our extended family members, many who visit often, are deeply grateful for nurses who lovingly attend her. I was surprised by Mother’s focus. She reached for my hand and grasped it with astounding power. That reminded me of the lifetime of tennis she played. She also riveted her gaze on me, as though I were a ball to be struck—powerfully, with precision.

I found myself singing Primary songs to Mother. The one that came to mind was “Jesus Once Was a Little Child.” You may remember the first verse:

Jesus once was a little child,
A little child like me;
And he was pure and meek and mild,
As a little child should be.

Mother’s intensity seemed even greater as I sang the chorus of this song, which was written more than a hundred years ago, plenty of time for her to sing it as a Primary child:

So, little children,
Let’s you and I
Try to be like him,
Try, try, try.

Finishing the Course
In this life, we are learning to try and ultimately fly, spiritually. That means experiencing ups and downs. With Heaven’s guidance and our best efforts, we can stay ahead of the spiritual “power curve,” rising above obstacles on the ground and sudden downdrafts. The key is to remember that that stormy spiritual weather is built into our mortal experience for our own good.

Flying sometimes means falling below our preferred altitude and trajectory. When that happens, we need to lower the nose of our spiritual airplane and add power, rather than pulling back and risking a stall. I’m convinced that Mother is doing that, staying airborne notwithstanding tremendous physiological drag and spiritual turbulence. It’s clear that she is being kept aloft by the Savior’s hands, having done all she could do.

I recently learned a valuable lesson about seeing deeply from a young woman named Rozlyn.

The story was shared with me by my friend who was devastated when her husband of 20 years moved out. With her children splitting time between parents, the prospect of attending church alone seemed daunting. She recounts:

“In a church where the family is of paramount importance, sitting solo can be painful. That first Sunday I walked in praying no one would speak to me. I was barely holding it together, and tears were on the brink. I sat in my typical spot, hoping no one would notice how empty the bench seemed.

“A young woman in our ward turned and looked at me. I pretended to smile. She smiled back. I could see the concern in her face. I silently pleaded that she wouldn’t come to talk to me—I had nothing positive to say and knew I would cry. I looked back down at my lap and avoided eye contact.

“During the next hour, I noticed her looking back at me occasionally. As soon as the meeting ended, she made a beeline for me. ‘Hi, Rozlyn,’ I whispered. She wrapped me in her arms and said, ‘Sister Smith, I can tell today is a bad day for you. I’m so sorry. I love you.’ As predicted, the tears came as she hugged me again. But as I walked away, I thought to myself, ‘Maybe I can do this after all.’

“That sweet 16-year-old young woman, less than half my age, found me every Sunday for the rest of that year to give me a hug and ask, ‘How are you?’ It made such a difference in how I felt about coming to church. The truth is I started to rely on those hugs. Someone noticed me. Someone knew I was there. Someone cared.”

The six golden spires above the gleaming white, seven-story building shone in the November sun. It was a windy day. It was an inspiring day. The Washington Temple was being dedicated, and thousands had traveled thousands of miles to participate. Standing outside after one of the meetings was a young bishop and his wife. They came from Indianapolis with four teenage youths to participate in this glorious occasion.
The President of the Church was about to exit the temple. The bishop and those with him waited patiently to catch a glimpse of the man they sustain as prophet, seer, and revelator. There he was! As he came through the doors, he looked over the crowd of Saints who had been asked to clear a path for his departure. He moved through them unhurried, shaking hands and smiling warmly. He extended his arms as far back into the crowd as he could to reach as many hands as possible.
He finally reached young Bishop Gurney, his wife, and their small party of youths. Linda Surface was one of them. She was noticeably self-conscious, and as her hair tossed and swirled in the whipping wind, she fought with both hands to control it. President Kimball saw her, took her nervous hand, and comforted her: “Don’t worry about your hair, you are beautiful as you are.”
Then he took the bishop’s wife by the hand: “Thank you so much for waiting for me.” And to the bishop he gave a similar grateful greeting.
As in all things our president sets the example. And he follows the example of the Master: “By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.” (John 13:35.) President Kimball demonstrated in those simple acts outside the Washington Temple that November day the graciousness, love, and concern for others that show “love one to another.” That mark alone will make any social gathering warm, pleasant, and filled with the proper spirit.
The sensitive comments of President Kimball that November day outside the Washington Temple—those of love toward others—should be our guide in all we do. The act is simple if the correct principle is followed. The correct principle, as King Benjamin counseled, is forgetting ourselves and acting on our concern for others so we “might rejoice and be filled with love towards God and all men.” (Mosiah 2:4.)

Roger Locke, a friend of mine, is presently confined in the Utah State Prison. (Incidentally, I have visited with Roger within the past few days and have his and Warden John Turner’s permission to share his name and thoughts.)
Let’s get back to Roger. He said:
“I don’t want to blame anyone back home for my being in prison today, but it is factual that I had no family relationships. I am involved in the family home evening program at the prison. Without the parents who have been assigned to me through this social services program, many times I would have given up. These people love me as if I were their own son. I have never had that, even when I was a small boy. Now, with their help and that of others, I believe I can now make it back a day at a time. I am not proud of being in prison, but I am proud of my recent experiences while being there. We have a tendency to blame others. We don’t want to blame our parents for not loving us, because we know they do, but maybe they didn’t have the guidance and direction in their lives to apply when they were bringing us up.”
Perhaps in the minds of many of us, Roger would be justified in believing he couldn’t make it back. He had detoured too long. But he doesn’t believe that. Instead, he is thanking those who are presently helping him and is sincerely grateful for the direction in which his life is moving today.
The Church attenders in prisons are unfortunately in the minority and are often classified by their associates in uncomplimentary terms, but this fine young man, bless his courage, is not ashamed to be identified at the Utah State Prison as a member of “God’s Squad.” He seems determined to make it back from where he is.

As Eduardo’s and María’s gospel knowledge grew, so did their testimonies. When their son Osvaldo died following a traffic accident in 2001, their testimonies—coupled with powerful spiritual experiences during prayer and in the Buenos Aires Argentina Temple, where they and Osvaldo had been sealed—helped them deal with their loss.
“Perhaps some parents would have gone crazy,” Eduardo says, “but we felt a calmness that said, ‘Your son is well.’ Of course we wept. He was a good son, and we miss him. But we have been sealed in the temple, and we know where he is.”

Rhett Wyatt, a priest in the Gresham Fourth Ward, Gresham Oregon Stake, runs on a busy schedule. Each morning at 7:00 A.M. Rhett, who’s blind, runs two miles holding onto the arm of a classmate or gym teacher. He also works out on the trampoline, thanks to a safety invention of his brother, and ran a mile race in a Special Olympics track meet. Rhett recently performed in his school’s productions of Oklahoma and West Side Story and delivered a Bill Cosby routine at his senior class banquet. A stake missionary and member of the Gresham seminary executive council, Rhett plans to serve a mission soon.

I am an American exchange student in Bateman’s Bay, Australia. I am the only Latter-day Saint in the town, and the nearest branch is 100 miles away, so I don’t get to church very often. I wrote to my mother and told her how much I miss the Church, and to help me out, someone is sending me the New Era every month. I love the New Era. It’s brought me so much closer to the Church, even though I’m the only member for miles. The New Era has motivated me to start reading the Book of Mormon, and I can hardly wait to get home and participate in the Young Women activities.
Lisa MatsonBateman’s Bay, Australia

Somehow, Sage hung on to life, and two days later the doctors felt she was strong enough to receive the first of what would eventually be eight skin grafts. Then she developed pneumonia.
“All we did those first ten days was cry and pray,” says Michael.
Denise learned of the accident while teaching her kindergarten class. “A deputy sheriff called me. I had to stuff my fist into my mouth to keep from screaming. When I finally saw Sage, I would not have known she was my daughter if someone hadn’t told me.”
Both Michael and Denise credit Sage’s survival to the skill of the medical staff who attended her and to the faith and prayers of the members of their new church.
“We found out immediately what the Church was all about,” Michael says. “The ward held some special fasts, although we didn’t even know what a fast was at the time. And many people came to give their support. Sage received many priesthood blessings.”
One of the first blessings was given by Robert DeBuck. Robert with his wife, Ruth, had introduced the Volkmans to the Church. “When Robert blessed Sage,” Ruth recalls, “he told her to go where it was safe—into Heavenly Father’s arms. We lived for a long time on faith in that blessing. We believe that’s where she was.”

The summer I turned 12, just before I entered the seventh grade, I encountered the first doubts I’d had about the gospel. My parents seemed to know the Church was true, and so did the many Church leaders I’d had throughout my life. But I realized I couldn’t remember ever feeling the “warm, fuzzy feeling” that everyone talked about.
So for three months, I prayed hard every night to feel it too. I prayed for any sign that Heavenly Father was listening to me and ready for me to know. Still, no answer came.
I didn’t tell my parents, siblings, or friends about my inner turmoil. I was scared to think I was the only one without an answer, that I was the only one who didn’t know for sure that the gospel is true.
After those three months, at the end of summer vacation, it was time for our family’s annual father’s blessings. These were our “back-to-school blessings,” as we called them, so the things spoken for each of my siblings generally fit with that theme. My dad blessed my siblings with success in their schooling and academic goals.
When it was my turn, my dad laid his hands on my head. Just after he started the blessing, he spoke nine words without hesitation, in the surest voice I’d ever heard him use, which shocked me: “I testify to you that this gospel is true.” My dad didn’t even mention my academic life. Instead, he simply bore his testimony for the entire blessing.
My eyes welled with tears that confused the rest of my family—none of them, including my father, knew about the questions I’d been struggling with. However, as I learned then, my Heavenly Father did.
Since that day, I can testify that no matter how or when, whether it’s through a feeling or the words of another, Heavenly Father will answer every prayer.

The roots of Tom’s mastery are sunk in Czechoslovakia where German-born Joseph Rehak moved with his widowed mother when he was only one year old. They were desperately poor, but Joseph was resilient, and as he grew up, he began to learn the fine art of pastry baking. He honed his skills and learned many recipes by going from shop to shop, working at each for a while and absorbing what he could from the finest bakers in Czechoslovakia. When he opened his own shop, he was as good as the best. The business grew rapidly, and when World War II came, he had a large business with many employees.
The war changed all that. He survived the Nazi occupation somehow, but after the war the communists took away everything he had. He fled to Canada and started all over again. With the help of his wife, he opened the bakery in Hamilton, and it prospered.
This experience, passed on to the family, impressed Tom deeply. “It really makes me realize how great it is to be in Canada with the freedoms we have,” he says. “A lot of people take for granted living in a free country, having food on their plate, and owning good clothes to wear. I don’t take those things for granted because my father’s rough childhood is a constant reminder of how good I have it.”

I went to the movies with my friend, and she bought me a cold drink. When I asked her what the drink was, she told me that it was iced tea. I told her that I didn’t drink tea. She tried to convince me to take one drink, but I told her, “No, thank you.” Finally the movie started, and we enjoyed it without any more trouble. I’m glad I didn’t take the tea because I know that Heavenly Father gave us the Word of Wisdom.

Well, since you insist, I’ll just capture her royal majesty with my humble little black bishop.
No! No! No! No! My queen! Why didn’t I see that? I might as well resign now.
Don’t give up. You can still make a comeback.
Down a queen? Fat chance! You just want the pleasure of checkmating me.
Well, yes, that might be fun. But remember what Sister Simon said—it’s never too late to come back, although it may be hard.
She was talking about life. In chess, what’s done is done, and you just have to live with it.
Well, aren’t you glad it’s chess that’s hopeless and not life?
You have a point there.
So, what’s your move?
Hmmm. My rook is feeling very hungry, and I think it’s going to gobble up your tasty little unprotected pawn. There! Now what are you going to do about that?
Checkmate!
I had to ask.

Sister Linda K. Burton told the story of a stake Relief Society president who, working with others, collected quilts for people in need during the 1990s. “She and her daughter drove a truck filled with those quilts from London to Kosovo. On her journey home she received an unmistakable spiritual impression that sank deep into her heart. The impression was this: ‘What you have done is a very good thing. Now go home, walk across the street, and serve your neighbor!’”

Leaving my quiet moment of reminiscence behind, I rose from the steps to clean the dog’s run. I grabbed the shovel and the hose and let Hush Pup, our old dog, out of his run to soak up some sunshine.
Just then my husband, who had been in the backyard building a deck, came around the house. He smiled, took the shovel from my hands without a word, and began to help. I was shocked. My husband was trying to finish the deck before the cold weather set in. He never left a project in the middle of the day. Grateful for the unexpected help, I started hosing down the other end of the run.
All of a sudden my husband began to scream. I looked up to see a swarm of wasps surrounding and attacking him. A calming voice in my mind said, “Spray him with water.” I did. Even while he ran I kept aiming the stream of water at him. Although the water repelled the wasps, he was still stung seven times.
While we attended to his left arm, where most of the stings were, a thought came to me. I had been spared! I’m allergic to bees. And due to the cancer, the lymph nodes had been removed from my left arm. If I had been stung, I would not have been able to fight the poisons from the stings and nobody would have been there to spray me with water.
A feeling of love and warmth filled my heart. I was so grateful my husband had listened to the promptings of the Holy Ghost. My life had been spared a second time.

I had this principle vividly impressed upon me one day a long time ago. I was living back in Virginia at the time, and one beautiful fall day I drove out into the country to pick up some walnuts. There were sixteen Stop signs between my home and the very, very heavily wooded lane where I turned in to get those walnuts. I stopped fifteen times. The last Stop sign was way out in the country. I could see in both directions. There were no other cars in sight. I thought to myself: “Why should I stop? Stop signs are to protect people, but I am the only one around. So why stop?” So I didn’t! I wasn’t speeding. I just went through at the speed limit. When I reached the heavily wooded lane, I found I couldn’t see around the corner. It’s that way back there in Virginia. So I slowed down and turned in. Just as I did, there was another car coming out of the lane, and because we couldn’t see each other, we ran together at about five miles per hour. It wasn’t a hard impact and the cars weren’t severely damaged. As I recall, it only cost me $168 to replace my grill and headlights.
Now, that accident had to be perfectly timed. Of course, if I had stopped at the last Stop sign, it would never have happened. I said, “Lord, I get the message. You really didn’t have to go this far, but I do understand.” In fact, I stopped sixteen times on the way home with the front end of my car beat up.

One ward youth group recently participated in an exciting family history activity. With classes taught by family history consultants and help from parents and relatives, these young people were able to clear 485 ancestral names for temple ordinance work, averaging nine family names each. Arrangements were then made for them to attend a temple session and be baptized for their ancestors. Seeing the excitement and interest of the young people, parents and leaders asked to join the group at the temple to perform the endowment and sealing ordinances. They testified of increased spiritual power and feelings of unity as they shared in this temple service for their ancestors.

Being prayerful for me means not only praying morning and night, but also keeping a prayer in my heart throughout the day. Although I have not been perfect in doing so, I have been pretty consistent. With a prayer in my heart my day runs smoother and I am more receptive to the whisperings of the Spirit. Often in my prayers I ask the Lord to help me find those who are in need of comfort or who need a friend.
One day I was driving home from school and passed a boy who was walking home. The sun was out but there was snow on the ground. I had an impression to turn around and give the boy a ride home. Immediately I turned around and picked him up. He had on wet jeans and a T-shirt because someone had pushed him in the snow. He was grateful when I picked him up. He talked about how he had a hard time making friends and how some kids had played a little game that ended with him being thrown in the snow. I was grateful the Lord heard my prayers and allowed me to help that wonderful boy.
Barbara Moore, 17Littleton, Colorado