Gospel Story Finder

I usually feel a little scared when I go to bed. When I say my prayers, I feel peace and fall asleep quicker.
Vance R., age 9, Utah, USA

The morning after my call came, as I knelt with my dear companion in prayer, my heart and soul seemed to reach out to the total membership of the Church with a special kind of fellowship and love which was like the opening of the windows of heaven, to give me a brief feeling of belonging to the more than three million members of the Church in all parts of the world.

Crescent Park Fifth Ward
How many temples are there in the world? The children of the Crescent Park Fifth Ward of the Sandy Utah Crescent Park Stake found out. They put glow-in-the-dark stickers on a world map to mark each place where there is a temple. Then they turned off the lights to see how temples dot the earth!

Rebecca Marler won a superior rating in the Indiana State Solo-Ensemble Association contest held recently at Butler University. A junior at Taylor High School in Kokomo, Indiana, Becky was the only one from her school who qualified to enter the competition. She sang “My Mother Bids Me Bind My Hair” by Joseph Haydn.
A member of the Indianapolis Indiana North Stake, Becky is president of her seminary class, Junior Sunday School and youth activity night pianist, and secretary of her Laurel class.

On February 4 of 1990, our third son and sixth child was born. We named him Tyson. He was a beautiful little boy, and the family greeted him with open hearts and open arms. His brothers and sisters were so proud of him. We all thought he was the most perfect little boy who had ever been born.
When Tyson was eight months old, he aspirated a piece of chalk that he had found on the carpet. The chalk lodged in Tyson’s throat, and he quit breathing. His older brother brought Tyson upstairs, frantically calling, “The baby won’t breathe. The baby won’t breathe.” We began to administer CPR and called 911.
The paramedics arrived and rushed Tyson to the hospital. In the waiting room we continued in fervent prayer as we pled to God for a miracle. After what seemed a lifetime, the doctor came into the room and said, “I am so sorry. There is nothing more we can do. Take all the time you need.” She then left.
As we entered the room where Tyson lay, we saw our lifeless little bundle of joy. It seemed as though he had a celestial glow around his little body. He was so radiant and pure.
At that moment it felt as if our world had come to an end. How could we return to the other children and somehow try to explain that Tyson wasn’t coming home?
I will speak in the singular as I relate the rest of this experience. My angel wife and I experienced this trial together, but I am inadequate in expressing the feelings of a mother and would not even try to do so.
It is impossible to describe the mixture of feelings that I had at that point in my life. Most of the time I felt as if I were in a bad dream and that I would soon wake up and this terrible nightmare would be over. For many nights I didn’t sleep. I often wandered in the night from one room to the other, making sure that our other children were all safe.
Feelings of guilt racked my soul. I felt so guilty. I felt dirty. I was his father; I should have done more to protect him. If only I would have done this or that. Sometimes even today, 22 years later, those feelings begin to creep into my heart, and I need to get rid of them quickly because they can be destructive.
About a month after Tyson died, I had an interview with Elder Dean L. Larsen. He took the time to listen to me, and I will always be grateful for his counsel and love. He said, “I don’t think the Lord would want you to punish yourself for the death of your little boy.” I felt the love of my Heavenly Father through one of his chosen vessels.
However, tormenting thoughts continued to plague me, and I soon began to feel anger. “This isn’t fair! How could God do this to me? Why me? What did I do to deserve this?” I even felt myself get angry with people who were just trying to comfort us. I remember friends saying, “I know how you feel.” I would think to myself, “You have no idea how I feel. Just leave me alone.” I soon found that self-pity can also be very debilitating. I was ashamed of myself for having unkind thoughts about dear friends who were only trying to help.
As I felt the guilt, anger, and self-pity trying to consume me, I prayed that my heart could change. Through very personal sacred experiences, the Lord gave me a new heart, and even though it was still lonely and painful, my whole outlook changed. I was given to know that I had not been robbed but rather that there was a great blessing awaiting me if I would prove faithful.
My life started to change, and I was able to look forward with hope, rather than look backward with despair. I testify that this life is not the end. The spirit world is real. The teachings of the prophets regarding life after death are true. This life is but a transitory step forward on our journey back to our Heavenly Father.
Tyson has remained a very integral part of our family. Through the years it has been wonderful to see the mercy and kindness of a loving Father in Heaven, who has allowed our family to feel in very tangible ways the influence of Tyson. I testify that the veil is thin. The same feelings of loyalty, love, and family unity don’t end as our loved ones pass to the other side; instead, those feelings are intensified.
Sometimes people will ask, “How long did it take you to get over it?” The truth is, you will never completely get over it until you are together once again with your departed loved ones. I will never have a fulness of joy until we are reunited in the morning of the First Resurrection.

My life was eternally blessed by one choice member who reached out more than 50 years ago. Some days after World War II, my grandmother was standing in line for food when an elderly single sister with no family of her own invited her to sacrament meeting in Zwickau, East Germany. My grandmother and my parents accepted the invitation. They went to church, felt the Spirit, were uplifted by the kindness of the members, and were edified by the hymns of the Restoration. My grandmother, my parents, and my three siblings were all baptized. I had to wait two years because I was only six. How grateful I am for a spiritually sensitive grandmother, teachable parents, and a wise, white-haired, elderly single sister who had the sweet boldness to reach out and follow the Savior’s example by inviting us to “come and see” (see John 1:39). Her name was Sister Ewig, which translates in English to “Sister Eternal.” I will be eternally grateful for her love and example.

I have fond memories as a boy coming to this Tabernacle. I was baptized here. When I became a deacon, my father brought me here to attend general priesthood meeting. We came 15 minutes early and were easily able to get a seat in the balcony.

In my home I learned to work hard. My family used a system we called the “diligence list.” At the beginning of the month, we received a list of various chores, such as doing the dishes, caring for the horses, and so on. We checked off the chores as we completed them, and then at the end of the month, we were given an amount of money for our diligent work based on how many check marks we had on the chart. From this I have learned to work diligently and to be careful with money.

In addition, help your children learn self-discipline by such activities as learning to play a musical instrument or learning another demanding skill. I am reminded of the story of the salesman who came to a house one hot summer day. Through the screen door he could see a young boy practicing his scales on the piano. His baseball glove and hat were by the side of the piano bench. He said, “Say, boy, is your mother home?” To which the boy replied, “What do you think?” Thank heavens for conscientious parents!

This story begins a very long time ago, long before the earth began spinning in its orbit, long before the sun began to reach its fiery arms into the cold of space, long before creatures great and small had populated our planet. At the beginning of this story, you lived in a faraway, beautiful place.

We do not know many details about life in that premortal sphere, but we do know some. Our Heavenly Father has revealed to us who He is, who we are, and who we can become.

Back in that first estate, you knew with absolute certainty that God existed because you saw and heard Him. You knew Jesus Christ, who would become the Lamb of God. You had faith in Him. And you knew that your destiny was not to stay in the security of your premortal home. As much as you loved that eternal sphere, you knew you wanted and needed to embark on a journey. You would depart from the arms of your Father, pass through a veil of forgetfulness, receive a mortal body, and learn and experience things that hopefully would help you grow to become more like Father in Heaven and return to His presence.

In that sacred place, surrounded by those you knew and loved, the great question on your lips and in your heart must have been “Will I return safely to my heavenly home?”

There were so many things that would be out of your control. Mortal life would be hard at times, filled with unexpected bends in the road: sickness, heartbreak, accidents, conflict.

Without a memory of your previous existence—without remembering that you once walked with your Father in Heaven—would you still recognize His voice amid all the noise and distractions of mortal life?

The journey ahead seemed so long and uncertain—so filled with risk.

It wouldn’t be easy, but you knew it was worth every effort.

So, there you stood on the edge of eternity, looking forward with unspeakable excitement and hope—and, I imagine, also with a degree of worry and fear.

In the end, you knew God would be just—that His goodness would triumph. You had participated in the great heavenly councils and knew that your Savior and Redeemer, Jesus Christ, would provide a way for you to be cleansed from sin and rescued from physical death. You had faith that, in the end, you would rejoice and join your voice with a heavenly chorus singing praises to His holy name.

And so, you took a deep breath …

And a great step forward …

And here you are!

You have, each one of you, embarked on your own wonderful journey back to your heavenly home!

When President J. Reuben Clark Jr. counseled those called to positions of authority in the Church, he would tell them not to forget rule number six.
Inevitably, the person would ask, “What is rule number six?”
“Don’t take yourself too darn seriously,” he would say.
Of course, this led to a follow-up question: “What are the other five rules?”
With a twinkle in his eye, President Clark would say, “There aren’t any.”6

“Peace is a tranquility; a calmness.” This was one of the first sentences of an essay by Robbie Hoch of Fair Oaks, California, that won in a contest sponsored by the Children as Teachers of World Peace Project of the Roundtable Foundation. His prize was $1,000 and an opportunity to meet Jihan Sadat, the widow of late Egyptian President Anwar Sadat.
Robbie read about several great world leaders before writing his composition. He defined a peace leader as one who truly loves and cares for his people.
Robbie is a member of the Fair Oaks 1st Ward, Fair Oaks California Stake.

When President Russell M. Nelson spoke about using the correct name of the Church, his message was very clear to me: “It is the command of the Lord. … To remove the Lord’s name from the Lord’s Church is a major victory for Satan” (“The Correct Name of the Church,” Oct. 2018 general conference [Ensign or Liahona, Nov. 2018, 87, 88]).
Committed to using the Church’s full name, I waited for the next opportunity to claim my membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Sure enough, that opportunity came. “You Mormons are such kind people,” someone told me.
“Well, thank you,” I answered. “As members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we believe we’re all brothers and sisters.” Then the conversation continued with him and everyone else talking about the kindness of “Mormons.”
Although I had done my part in saying the full name of the Church, my friends and associates still viewed me as part of the “Mormon Church” and not necessarily as a follower of Christ, let alone as a member of Christ’s restored Church.

Recently it was my very pleasant privilege to read Louis Fischer’s great book, The Life of Mohandas K. Gandhi. This is the story of a little 102-pound man in India who went around four-fifths naked, who lived in a mud hut that never had a telephone or an electric light or running water. He did not own an automobile. He had no wealth, no diplomats, no armies. He never sought, nor ever held, a public office, and yet the great British government discovered that they could not rule India against Gandhi and they could not rule India without Gandhi.
The Indian people understood that Gandhi was absolutely honest, that he could be trusted, that his motives were right. They knew when he said something that that was exactly what he meant. I would like to have you think for a moment of the great advantage one has if people understand that he has these qualities of integrity.
But Gandhi’s early life was very unpromising. He thought of himself as a coward. He had a very bad temper. He had some other very serious problems. But finally, realizing the disadvantages that these unfavorable qualities gave him, he started out deliberately to remake his personality, and he later called himself a “self-remade man.” Now, if you would like to have a good phrase, I recommend this one to you.
Gandhi deliberately did a lot of things to make of himself the kind of man that he thought he would like to be. He went on long fasts for discipline. He said, “How can I control others if I cannot control myself?”
Gandhi took ideas seriously. He believed that when he accepted an idea in principle and did not practice it, he was being dishonest. There are 999 men who believe in honesty for every honest man. Gandhi’s greatness lay in doing what everybody could, but did not, do.
His mother taught him that to eat meat was wrong. She reasoned that eating meat necessitated the destruction of other life and was therefore wrong. So Gandhi made a pledge to his mother that he would remain a strict vegetarian throughout his life. Later, after his mother’s death, some of his friends tried to persuade him that there was no life in unfertilized eggs, and therefore he could eat these without violating his pledge. But Gandhi knew what his mother’s definition of meat was, and inasmuch as he had made the pledge to her, her definition must remain binding. Later on, when Gandhi was very ill and it was not known whether or not he would live, his physicians tried to persuade him to take a little beef broth to save his life; but Gandhi said, “Even for life itself we must not do certain things. There is only one course open to me—to die, but never to break my pledge.”
By the sheer power of this self-made personality, Gandhi raised himself to be the unquestioned leader of 500 million people and became the greatest single power in India. Louis Fischer calls this process by which a below-average human being can raise himself to great power and accomplishment the “miracle of personality.” I would like to have you imagine what would happen in the world, and what the benefit to the world would be, if the leaders of nations and all of the rest of us had Mr. Gandhi’s kind of integrity.

While attending a sacrament meeting during the summer months, I was fortunate to hear messages from three students who were home from school for the summer. One of the talks especially interested me.
She had been working during the summer recess in a restaurant frequented by truck drivers. One driver who had a regular run stopped at the restaurant on the same day each week to eat. The regularity of the stop created an opportunity for short visits. He asked the young lady where she lived. She reported that she was home for the summer to earn money to return to school in the fall. His next question was, “Where do you attend school?” Her answer with pride: “BYU–Idaho.” He wanted to know more about the school, which led to a gospel discussion. Her first approach was to teach him about the Word of Wisdom. She was successful. She convinced him to give up smoking.
Then her shift was changed, and she no longer had the opportunity to serve him, so she wrote him a note and enclosed a Church missionary tract about the plan of salvation. After several days she received a note from the driver. It simply stated, “You’ve created a monster.” Thanks to this young woman, he had found information which caused him to think about the changes he must make in his life. I do not know the full outcome of this little encounter between a waitress and a truck driver, but clearly his life was affected.
She then went on to explain how easy it is to let others know about the beauties of the gospel. Opportunities are there every day in our normal pursuits of life to open our mouths to let people know of the gospel truths that will bless them here and now and into the eternities to come.

“I needed a personal second witness of Jesus Christ,” says Jodi Burr of Danville, Pennsylvania. “I wanted to know Christ. I had no doubt of his reality and atonement, but I wanted to come to a knowledge of him as a person and as a loving God. As I reread the Book of Mormon, no individual verse or story provided what I was looking for. However, my knowledge of Christ formed piece by piece as I studied about him in the various Book of Mormon settings.
“I bore my testimony in sacrament meeting, and my soul was flooded with the Holy Spirit as I received what I had longed for—a second witness of Jesus Christ. After church, one sentence kept repeating itself in my thoughts: ‘I know the Master; I know the Master.’ This testimony is priceless to me. What I was given that day was exactly what I had been searching for—‘and it came to pass’ through reading the Book of Mormon.”

Gabe King, 15, of Jeffersonville, Indiana, wasn’t exactly looking for a service project. But when he found out about his neighbor’s misfortune, he couldn’t help but act.
While working in his orchard, the neighbor fell out of a tree. He was hurt badly enough that picking the apples himself was impossible. If the apples weren’t picked, he wouldn’t be able to make a living. Gabe organized a group of about ten young women and men to join him in an apple-picking party. They chose a cool day in October and picked all day long to bring in the man’s crop.
“He was very grateful and really happy,” Gabe explains. “He would have lost a lot of money had we not picked his apples. It was a great feeling to know how much it meant to him.”

For example, one useful systematic program for memorizing scriptures is to review each scripture at least once a day for a week after learning it, then once a week for a month, then once a month for as long as desired. I used this program as a missionary by carrying seven scripture cards with me each day—the new one I was memorizing that day, plus the six from the six previous days.
Additional examples show that the techniques really can help you remember scriptures. Mike’s experience, described at the beginning of this article, shows that a person who has made the effort to practice memory techniques can remember more efficiently than those who have not. When I was a missionary, I memorized a total of about 1,000 verses of scripture, word-for-word, with chapter and verse references, using some of the techniques described in this article. I have also used these techniques to memorize the major contents of each of the 239 chapters in the Book of Mormon.

Too soon the term came to an end. When I came back from vacation, Scott Anderson was gone. “Moved,” somebody told me, “back to Utah.” I clung even more to his famous one line in memory of our friendship.
It was a fresh April day at the Apothecary Outdoor Restaurant when I had a final chance to use Anderson’s line. We had just finished our salad and were beginning our soup when an acquaintance of my mother stopped to greet us. He added the usual, “And what are you going to be doing next year, Jack?”
“I will be going on a mission for the Mormon church, sir,” I replied.
“You will?” He seemed more than astonished. “Why I didn’t know you were Mormons!”
“We’re not,” my mother smiled her let’s-get-on-to-other-things smile.
“But I am,” the man went on. “As a matter of fact, I’m bishop of the Manhattan Third Ward.”
“A bishop? I’ve heard of bishops,” I said. “You see, I had this friend at school …”
And so I met Bishop Beesely. And now I am going on a mission for the Mormon church. My father thinks that I am tomorrow’s Dr. Livingstone because I am going to South Africa.
My mother, though, is her same plural self. Just yesterday she said, “We’ll be needing some white shirts and dark suits now, won’t we, Jack?”

Dallas Howard represented Utah in the National Junior Miss Pageant where she won the national Kodak Award for a pictorial essay. Her photographs were of three pairs of hands: infant, grown, and elderly. Her poem that accompanied the photos was based on a verse from Ecclesiastes.
Dallas is a member of the Orem 55th Ward, Orem Utah Stake.
This is her poem:
It impresses me that
“To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven” (Eccl. 3:1).
A time of beginning—new, grasping, innocent, growing, me, mine, tender, small, possessive—Sunrise.
A time of reaching—expanding, sharing adventure, two, love, ours, vigor, becoming, serving, plans, time—Noonday.
A time of fulfilling—resting, experience, memories, knowing, peace, character, wise, harvest, one, but not alone—Sunset.
“The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun” (Eccl. 1:9).