Gospel Story Finder

One day the missionaries gave her a special challenge.
“Will you try to pray during the week?” asked Elder Parker.
Up until now, Kelly had only prayed with the missionaries. But she wanted to try it on her own. She knew Heavenly Father was always listening, and He wanted to hear from her.
“I’ll do it,” she promised.
The next day at school was a special one. Kelly was going to sing in a competition! She had learned a beautiful new Chinese song. Learning all the notes and tones had been hard work! She had practiced and practiced and practiced.
Now that it was time to perform, Kelly was nervous. She pulled out the picture of Jesus she had put in the pocket of her school uniform that morning. She decided to say a prayer, like the missionaries had shown her. “Heavenly Father, please help me let go of my nervousness,” she prayed. “In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Then Kelly stepped out onto the stage. She stared at the audience and the judges. She thought about the picture of Jesus in her pocket and felt a little bit better. She took a deep breath and started to sing.
She sang all the words just like she had practiced. As she sang the last note and took a bow, Kelly knew Heavenly Father had heard her prayer and helped her.
With a smile, Kelly walked off the stage. She couldn’t wait to tell the missionaries about what happened! She knew she wanted to keep praying every day.

I did not live the law of chastity, and because of that decision I conceived a child out of wedlock and ended up placing him for adoption. The consequences of my decisions were hard on me, even though I have now repented and know that my son is in the family he belongs with. If you are living the law of chastity, be pleased with yourself. You’re doing the right thing.
Name Withheld

Pat met Jeffrey Holland between her junior and senior year at high school. With a twinkle in her eye, she expressed much more of that sweet relationship than was spoken. “And that continues to be the best thing that has ever happened to me,” she said enthusiastically. “He continually amazes me, and it’s a wonderful privilege and blessing to be his wife.” Feeling the joy and happiness that she was expressing made it difficult to realize that she had ever had youthful feelings of discouragement or fear.
Speaking of their early friendship, she recalled that when he left for his mission, they so wanted to have a “forever kind of love.” Together they decided that they would do three things that would unite them even in his absence: (1) Read the scriptures every day. (2) Fast once a week. (3) Pray really often. “These have become habits that we have continued to this day,” she said humbly and gratefully, thinking of the far-reaching rewards of that early decision that kept them close while they were far away.

A few years ago while I was serving as stake president, I had some special, spiritual experiences, one of which I’d like to share with you today. One time in a stake conference, one of my great friends and reactivated brothers stood and bore his testimony of the power that had come into his life because of the teachings of Jesus Christ and of those who had ministered unto him. His heart was full, his eyes overflowed, as he stood before the audience with his arms around his two sons. He said, “My gratitude knows no bounds. My life has been totally changed by the gospel and by the people who have truly loved me. I will need to spend the rest of my life ministering and teaching others as partial repayment for all that I have received.”

And minister and serve he did, with love, unending effort, and great personal concern. As a home teacher, he was assigned to some special, great families who, as he had once been, were away from the Church and had challenges—some almost overwhelming.

He began his work in earnest, going to them as a friend and servant—a true minister. He visited and visited and served them in every way that he could. At first (just as he had been), they didn’t want to talk to him or hear his message, and often they would leave the room when he came. But he understood, for he had done it himself a hundred times to others, leaving his wife alone to hear them. He understood how they felt, expressed as follows by a reactivated man who is currently a bishop in the Church:

My friend prayed harder and harder for guidance and direction, went to the homes more often, and began to teach and encourage his families to pray for help to overcome problems. He became their servant, their minister, their friend, and now he was able to teach them.

“One of my favorite family home evenings was a time when we all collected our favorite jokes and riddles and took turns telling them to each other. That was a super evening!”

Jim Ivins started something new when he retired as an attorney. He began landscaping not only his own yard but many of his children’s yards as well. He recalls: “I thought about what I wanted to leave them as a legacy. When my wife passed away, it occurred to me that this is something I could do for them. I didn’t just move rocks, but instead I studied landscape designs and experimented with different approaches. When my grandchildren visit or I go see them, we don’t just talk; we study different designs and work together on them.”

For Hannu Sorsa, of the Helsinki Ward, going on a full-time mission was a sacrifice: “I love music so much—performing, practicing, composing, and arranging—that it was a sacrifice to leave daily devotion to music to go out and spread the gospel for two years. But I have been blessed for going.”

At twenty-eight, Hannu is now completing his music education at Sibelius Academy, Finland’s finest music college, named for its best-known composer, Jean Sibelius. Hannu plays piano, saxophone, clarinet, and various percussion instruments. “He is nearly always leading, directing, or accompanying some musical production for the stake,” says Leena Multamäki, who sings in many of the productions.

“My Mother opened a little country store to help keep our family out of debt. I worked with her in the store quite a bit. She taught me about respecting and serving people. Once, when I was fourteen, my mom and dad went to Salt Lake City for a conference and left me to take care of the store. The Hutterites in our area wouldn’t go to the bank to cash their huge grain checks, so Mom was an insured cashier, and we would sometimes have thousands of dollars in the store safe. I knew the combination to the safe, and I knew that my parents trusted me, so I opened and closed the store on time and took care of the customers.”

I’m a missionary serving in the Costa Rica San Jose Mission. I’ve enjoyed the New Era since I was 13 years old. Each issue has had articles that have helped me. The article by Vicki Leavitt Driggs in the November 1986 issue, entitled “The Grudge” seemed to be meant especially for me. It helped me tremendously with my own particular problem.
Normally, I get along well with the people I meet, and as a missionary, of course, I meet and work with a lot of different people. But I’ve had to work with a certain individual with whom it has been very difficult for me to get along. I was really feeling awful inside. I didn’t want to have bad feelings about anyone, especially one with whom I had to be very closely associated.
A couple of days ago this person did something that really hurt me. I felt quite angry and was even more “unkindly disposed” toward her than I had previously been.
When I returned to my apartment, I opened the November issue of the New Era I had just received from my parents. I started to read “The Grudge.” After reading it I realized that I felt exactly like the girl in the story. I knew I had to talk to this person whom I was allowing to make me have these negative feelings. I had to clear the air.
That’s exactly what I did. Now things are better between us than ever before. Thank you so much for this story.
Sister Cami OscarsonCosta Rica San Jose Mission

While attending school and then later the University of Utah in Salt Lake City, I had the opportunity of knowing Barbara Benson and the other daughters and sons of President and Sister Ezra Taft Benson. As I would talk with Barbara or Bonnie or Mark or Beth, I was impressed with the deep respect these children had for their parents. On one occasion Barbara said, “It is so easy to respect my parents because of the deep respect they have for us.”

Preceding the comforting revelation to Joseph and Oliver, the Prophet endured a poignant, painful experience that taught him to look to the Savior and not fear the opinions, pressures, and threats of men.
In June 1828 Joseph allowed Martin Harris to take the first 116 pages of the Book of Mormon manuscript from Harmony, Pennsylvania, to show to family members in Palmyra, New York. After Martin failed to return as promised, an anxious Joseph traveled by stagecoach to his parents’ home in Manchester Township, New York. The Prophet immediately sent for Martin. When Martin arrived, he admitted that he did not have the manuscript or know where it was.
Joseph exclaimed: “Oh! My God, my God. … All is lost, is lost. What shall I do? I have sinned. It is I that tempted the wrath of God by asking him for that which I had no right to ask. … Of what rebuke am I not worthy from the angel of the Most High?”
The next day the Prophet returned to Harmony. Once there, he said, “I commenced humbling myself in mighty prayer before the Lord … that if possible I might obtain mercy at his hands and be forgiven of all that I had done which was contrary to his will.”2
After chastising Joseph for fearing man more than God, the Lord told him:
“Thou art Joseph, and thou wast chosen to do the work of the Lord, but because of transgression, if thou art not aware thou wilt fall.
“But remember, God is merciful; therefore, repent of that which thou hast done which is contrary to the commandment which I gave you, and thou art still chosen, and art again called to the work” (D&C 3:9–10).
“For a time, the Lord took the Urim and Thummim and the plates from Joseph. But these things were soon restored to him. ‘The angel was rejoiced when he gave me back the Urim and Thummim,’ the Prophet recalled, ‘and said that God was pleased with my faithfulness and humility, and loved me for my penitence and diligence in prayer, in the which I had performed my duty so well as to … be able to enter upon the work of translation again.’ As Joseph moved forward in the great work before him, he was now fortified by the sweet feelings of receiving the Lord’s forgiveness and a renewed determination to do His will.”3

I am writing to tell you how thrilled our household is with the New Era. For the first time, my teenagers are reading and looking forward to receiving their magazine. The bright colors and art layouts attract them and relate to their era. Out of curiosity, I have read each of the three issues and have found the stories, articles, editorials, and question-and-answer pages worthwhile reading for adults as well as teenagers.
Mrs. Lloyd E. HenricksenProvo, Utah

An older couple retired from the world of work and also, in effect, from the Church. They purchased a pickup truck and camper and, separating themselves from all obligations, set out to see the world and simply enjoy what little they had accumulated the rest of their days. They had no time for the temple, were too busy for genealogical research and for missionary service. He lost contact with his high priests quorum and was not home enough to work on his personal history. Their experience and leadership were sorely needed in their branch, but, unable to “endure to the end,” they were not available.

As my friend and I boarded the jumbo jet in Seoul, South Korea, we nodded hello to the grandmotherly Korean woman seated in the aisle seat. My friend and I then squeezed past her into our own seats, my friend in the center seat and I by the window.
We had been airborne only a few minutes when I heard the soft tones of a hymn. I recognized it as “How Great Thou Art,”1 which is familiar in many Christian denominations and which I had recently memorized.
I looked around discreetly to determine where the sound was coming from. As I did so, I noticed that the Korean woman in our row had her hand in a small hymnal—printed in Korean characters—from her Protestant church.
I quickly changed seats with my friend and quietly joined in the woman’s song, to our mutual delight. She spoke no English, and I neither speak nor read Korean. But I do read music.
So, as she turned the pages of her hymnal, I would look at the first line of notes and nod if I recognized the hymn. Then I would hum a pitch, and we would start singing, she in Korean and I in English. She would sing the melody, and I would sing the harmony.
We were soon joined by passengers in the rows in front, behind, and to the side of us. For the better part of an hour, our impromptu choir sang several standard Christian hymns in our native tongues. The language barrier was dissolved by the music and by the fact that we knew Whom and what we were singing about. Our spirits united in song.
Before the flight attendants served dinner, our final hymn was “Silent Night”2—and it was only mid-October.
Since that experience, I have thought just how unusual, yet wonderful, it was that a group of strangers should unite their voices in hymns on a jetliner high above the Pacific.
I still get a lump in my throat every time I sing “How Great Thou Art” and “Silent Night.” I cannot sing those hymns without thinking of that Korean woman and the gift of music that allowed us to share our common faith in our Savior, Jesus Christ.

My parents gave me a beautiful watch for high school graduation. I looked at it frequently because of the love it communicated. Each night I carefully cleaned and wound it. But as years passed, I often neglected to wind the watch. Consequently, it sometimes stopped being useful, often when I most needed it.
Today I use an automatic watch. It is consistent and always give me the correct time. It is totally dependable. I never need to worry whether I can count on it or not.
I realize that as with watches, there are differences in people. Some need to be wound up, while others are automatic because of important decisions already made.
In closing, I return to my automatic watch. It is powered by a solar cell and to function must be exposed to light. We are like that. We operate on light and need a constant renewal of that light. If we drift into a path where there is darkness, it can be extraordinarily difficult to come back. You will not have that challenge because you will live in the light of truth.

Another story of priesthood service was told a month ago in a ward sacrament meeting. Again, I was there. In this case, the seasoned Melchizedek Priesthood holder didn’t know as he spoke that he was describing exactly what the Lord desires to happen with strengthened priesthood quorums. Here is the gist of his account:
He and a home teaching companion were assigned to serve seven families. Almost all of them did not want visits. When the home teachers went to their apartments, they refused to answer the door. When they telephoned, they did not get an answer. When they left a message, the call was not returned. This senior companion finally resorted to a letter-writing ministry. He even began to use bright yellow envelopes in the hope of getting a response.
One of the seven families was a less-active single sister who had emigrated from Europe. She had two young children.
After many attempts to contact her, he received a text message. She abruptly informed him that she was too busy to meet with home teachers. She had two jobs and was in the military as well. Her primary job was that of a police officer, and her career goal was to become a detective and then return to her native country and continue her work there.
The home teacher never was able to visit with her in her home. He periodically texted her. Every month he sent a handwritten letter, supplemented with holiday cards for each child.
He received no response. But she knew who her home teachers were, how to contact them, and that they would persist in their priesthood service.
Then one day he received an urgent text from her. She desperately needed help. She did not know who the bishop was, but she did know her home teachers.
In a few days, she had to leave the state for a monthlong military training exercise. She could not take her children with her. Her mother, who was going to care for her children, had just flown to Europe to care for her husband, who had a medical emergency.
This less-active single sister had enough money to buy a ticket to Europe for her youngest child but not for her 12-year-old son, Eric. She asked her home teacher if he could find a good LDS family to take Eric into their home for the next 30 days!
The home teacher texted back that he would do his best. He then contacted his priesthood leaders. The bishop, who was the presiding high priest, gave him approval to approach members of the ward council, including the Relief Society president.
The Relief Society president quickly found four good LDS families, with children about Eric’s age, who would take him into their homes for a week at a time. Over the next month, these families fed Eric, found room for him in their already crowded apartments or small homes, took him on their previously planned summer family activities, brought him to church, included him in their family home evenings, and on and on.
The families with boys Eric’s age included him in their deacons quorum meetings and activities. During this 30-day period, Eric was in church every Sunday for the first time in his life.
After his mother came home from her training, Eric continued to attend church, usually with one of these four volunteer LDS families or others who had befriended him, including his mother’s visiting teachers. In time, he was ordained a deacon and began passing the sacrament regularly.
Now let us look into Eric’s future. We will not be surprised if he becomes a leader in the Church in his mother’s home country when his family returns there—all because of Saints who worked together in unity, under the direction of a bishop, to serve out of charity in their hearts and with the power of the Holy Ghost.

We receive light from the Lord. This can happen to us when we study the scriptures and “our eyes [are] opened and our understandings [are] enlightened” (D&C 76:12). Daily scripture study turns on the light of our spiritual perception and opens our understandings to further knowledge. I try to read from the scriptures at the close of the day. It brings a remarkable peace. I sleep better by doing this.

One day I went to the library to get some books. One of the books was really good until I got to the third or fourth chapter. That’s where I started not to like it because the words got bad and mean. And then there was violence and lots of bad stuff. I stopped reading it. When I got the book, it looked good because of the cover and the award it got. I think that when you get a terrific-looking book, you should read the first few chapters and then think about whether it’s good or bad.

Returning home one Tuesday night, I was surprised to find everyone but my mom asleep. During the few weeks since I completed my first year of college, I felt almost guilty turning out my light and going to bed when I knew my sister Hailey was down the hall staying up until all hours of the night rushing to complete math assignments, term projects, and study for end-of-school tests. But tonight Hailey’s light wasn’t on.
I didn’t think I’d gotten home late and asked my mom why everyone else was in bed. She said that the usually cheerful and conversational Hailey had returned home from her ninth grade dance an hour before, not said much more than “Goodnight,” and gone to bed.
I decided to see how she was doing. I entered her bedroom, sat down on the floor, and asked, “So … how was it?”
A simple, “Fine,” was all I got.
Not knowing if I should leave the room and go to bed myself or keep pressing, I filled up time by saying, “So …”
“And no, I didn’t dance with anyone,” she finished, thinking she would spare me the effort of asking the question she was sure would be next.
“Oh, Hailey, that’s OK,” I said. But I knew that inside her 15-year-old mind it wasn’t.
I told her that believe it or not, several girls went home that night feeling the exact same way she did. And that there would likely be other dances when she’d feel like she’d danced the night away that would more than make up for the bad ones. And that most importantly, her worth as a beautiful 15-year-old young woman had not diminished in my eyes, or most especially in the eyes of her Heavenly Father.
So that she’d know I wasn’t just saying those things to be nice but that I was truly sincere, I reached back into my teenage past and dusted off experiences that I had hoped I would forget and had never planned on sharing with anyone.
By the time I’d uncovered all of my deep, dark dancing disappointments, Hailey and I were laughing hysterically, and I was grateful I could dispel some of her fears.
As I returned to my bedroom, I felt like I had gained the smallest understanding of our Savior’s empathy for us in our trials. Because I had experienced similar feelings and experiences as Hailey, I was better able to comfort her in her frustrations. I felt an overwhelming gratitude for my Savior, who took upon Himself our “infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he [might] know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities” (Alma 7:12).
Although I was grateful I could help that night, I won’t always be able to understand all of Hailey’s pain, fear, and disappointment, but her Savior will, as He understands all of our pains. And if we ask our Heavenly Father, in the name of Jesus Christ, I know that He knows how to make them light.

When I was growing up and would run into frustrating times, my Dad would always say: “Well, just remember the Book of Mormon says that ‘it came to pass,’ not that it came to stay.”
I found myself in the midst of one of those times recently, wishing that some of my problems would pass and some of my dreams would come true. But neither seemed to be happening. I began to wonder if sometimes things did come to stay. I wondered why some prayers seemed to go unanswered and why some blessings were withheld.
While visiting my parents I found some answers in the corn patch.
It was Saturday and the vegetable garden needed to be irrigated. Since I was home, I volunteered for the assignment.
“Water everything but the corn,” Dad had said as I headed for the ditch with my shovel. I always wondered what Dad had against corn.
“Are you sure it doesn’t need any water?” I asked. He decided to come and check. We walked out to the garden together and looked at the corn, which was about two feet high by then. The leaves were wilting and had begun to droop from the heat.
The last family home evening in May, we usually planted our garden. A frost would come a few days before the end of the month, and then summer weather began. That was the time for planting.
Grandpa’s rusty old potato planter looked like something out of the ’40s—probably because it was. But it still did a good job of putting the seed potatoes in the ground. Someone had stolen the seat off of it, and Dad sat on a pillow draped over the protruding rod while one of my sisters or I drove the tractor.
We usually planted peas, beans, corn, and potatoes, and sometimes squash. Our garden was growing according to the usual schedule this year. Everything had been watered two or three times since it had been planted except for the corn. It was getting close to July, and still Dad hadn’t watered it.
“I guess now it’s time to water it,” Dad said as he inspected the droopy leaves, and then he explained to me why he had waited so long.
“If you water corn when it first starts to grow, it’ll shoot right up. But it won’t develop a root system to support its height, so it won’t be good for much of anything.”
As he left me, I began thinking about what he had said. He was disciplining the corn so it would be well developed and there would be a balance between the roots and the stalk.
I looked at my own life and thought how much I was like the corn. Crying for water before I’d developed my roots.
I remembered a talk Elder Neal A. Maxwell gave at Ricks College. He talked about being “grounded, rooted, and established.” Maybe the Lord was allowing me to go a little while without water so I would become grounded and well rooted in the gospel. Perhaps there were roots of patience that I had not established. I could work on tolerance and love. I thought of many areas of my life where my roots were shallow.
I have learned not to mind so much the dry spells in my life because I know the Master Gardener will send water in His own due time. And when it comes it will be, as Elder Maxwell calls it, the Malachi measure: “there shall not be room enough to receive it” (Mal. 3:10).