Gospel Story Finder

Upon returning home, he completed his education at Brigham Young University in business management and graduated in 1970. Some time later, he met Annette Christensen at a BYU student ward. “She was the Relief Society president, and I was the elders quorum president,” he says. “She was always busy serving in worthwhile and constructive ways.” They began dating and were later married in the Provo Utah Temple on 27 December 1973. They have five children and reside in Sandy, Utah.

As you trust in the Lord and His goodness, the Almighty God will bless His children through you. Elder Hollings from Nevada learned that early in his mission. The day after he arrived in India, he traveled with Sister Funk and me to Rajahmundry, his first area. That afternoon Elder Hollings and Elder Ganaparam went to visit a Church member and her mother. The mother wanted to learn about the Church because she had seen how the gospel blessed the life of her daughter. Sister Funk joined them to provide fellowship. Because the lesson would be taught in English and the mother spoke only Telugu, a brother in the branch was there to interpret what was taught.

Elder Hollings’s assignment in his very first teaching appointment was to teach the First Vision, using the words of the Prophet Joseph. At that point in the lesson, he turned to Sister Funk and asked, “Should I say it word for word?” knowing it would be interpreted.

She replied, “Say it word for word so the Spirit can testify of what you say.”

When this new missionary sincerely taught the First Vision, using the words of the Prophet, the countenance of that dear sister changed. Tears appeared. As Elder Hollings finished that glorious message and before what he said could be interpreted, she asked through her tears in her native language, “May I be baptized? And will you teach my son?”

A Church leader once toured a facility that housed a huge hydraulic crushing machine that could reduce old cars into small cubes of metal. For a demonstration, the guide asked the man to remove his watch. The operator then placed it in the machine and adjusted the controls, and the top blade came crashing down, stopping just a millimeter above the watch. Next the sides slammed together, but once again they stopped just short of the crystal. Then the operator removed the watch and returned it unscratched.
Much pleased with the demonstration, this good man turned to those with him and said, “We have just witnessed the greatest demonstration of meekness I have ever seen. Meekness is great power under complete control.”

Northern Pakistan and India experienced the strongest earthquake in the region in a hundred years, with thousands of lives lost and many left without homes. Because of the extreme winters in the area, concern was extended not only for the injured but also for those left without shelter.
Four days after the earthquake, the Islamic Relief Agency provided a Boeing 747 cargo plane, which was quickly filled to capacity with blankets, tents, hygiene kits, medical supplies, sleeping bags, coats, and tarps from the bishops’ storehouse. Large containers with more supplies and winter tents for over 75,000 people were shipped by air, land, and sea.

My two brothers and I would like to thank you for publishing the Tambuli (English-language edition for the Philippines).
I have been a regular reader since 1989, and I have enjoyed every issue. The messages from the Brethren and many of the other articles have been very helpful to me. As we learn more of the gospel of Jesus Christ, we strengthen our relationship with God. Hopefully, everybody, member and nonmember alike, would have the opportunity of reading such a powerful magazine.
Eden Tibayan MenesesUrdaneta Second Ward, Urdaneta Philippines Stake

Anthony Meadows from Southport, Merseyside, shares firm testimony. “If I could get one message to the youth of these islands, it would be to serve a mission as soon as you leave school!

“My experience has been full of miracles,” he adds. “Since teaching the gospel in New Zealand, I’ve come home to an excellent place at Exeter University, studying physical education. I’ve also found my wife, another British returned missionary from New Zealand. And I’ve never been short of part-time work.”

Desiring to join with the body of the Church in the Salt Lake Valley and launch a fruit tree business, he first took his wife to visit with her family, the Whitmers, in Richmond, Missouri. Failing health would not permit him to undertake the journey west, and he died on March 3, 1850. Brother Woods quoted Oliver’s brother-in-law, David Whitmer, as saying: “Oliver died the happiest man I ever saw. After shaking hands with the family and kissing his wife and daughter, he said, ‘Now I lay down for the last time; I am going to my Saviour,’ and he died immediately with a smile on his face.”

As it turned out, I did marry. I was thirty-four, and my husband was thirty-seven. We wanted to begin our family quickly, but children did not come easily. We told Heavenly Father that if he would give us a child, we would dedicate that child to his service. When I was thirty-seven, our first child, a daughter, was born. We asked our Heavenly Father for another child and again promised that we would consecrate this child to his will. When I was almost forty, we had a son. We asked for more children but did not receive them.
Emily is now almost ten and Danny is seven, and we are trying to raise them in fulfillment of the promises that we have made. Like Latter-day Saint parents everywhere, we acknowledge that God has given us our children, and we are trying to help them learn to love and serve him.

On February 27, 2010, at 3:34 a.m., an earthquake of magnitude 8.8 on the moment magnitude scale violently shook much of Chile, causing panic, fear, and concern in millions of people.
A few days later, I was assigned to preside over a stake conference at a location close to the epicenter of this great quake. I wondered if the earthquake and the continuing aftershocks would affect attendance at the conference. I was surprised when attendance at each session of the conference was greater than it had ever been at previous conferences.
Apparently, the earthquake reminded stake members, at least temporarily, about the importance of getting close to God, sanctifying the Sabbath, and attending meetings. Several weeks later I telephoned the stake president. I asked if attendance at Church meetings was still high. He replied that as the number and magnitude of the aftershocks declined, so did attendance at church.

Eliza R. Snow, who had served as secretary when Relief Society was organized in Nauvoo, was called by President Brigham Young (1801–77) to travel throughout the Church, helping bishops organize Relief Society in their wards.
Sister Snow taught: “If any of the daughters and mothers in Israel are feeling in the least circumscribed [limited] in their present spheres, they will now find ample scope for every power and capability for doing good with which they are most liberally endowed. … President Young has turned the key to a wide and extensive sphere of action and usefulness.”5

Curt says traveling has also provided an opportunity for missionary work. He was invited to a party in Boston for 50 top athletes. When asked why he wouldn’t drink, he had the opportunity to share the gospel.

As a young man I served a mission to Brazil. It was a marvelous experience. I have returned many times since then in my Church assignments. One of the wonders of the world in that great country is Iguaçú Falls. In the flood season, the volume of water spilling over the brink is the largest in the world. Every few minutes, millions of gallons of water cascade into the chasm below. One part of the falls, where the deluge is the heaviest, is called the Devil’s Throat.
Large rocks are situated just before the water rushes down into the Devil’s Throat. Some of the braver Brazilians used to take passengers in canoes to stand on those rocks and look down into the Devil’s Throat. The water above the falls is usually calm and slow-moving, and the atmosphere tranquil. Except for the roar of the water below, there was no way to anticipate the danger that lay just a few feet beyond. A sudden, unexpected current could have taken a canoe into the rushing waters, over the cliff, and down into the Devil’s Throat. While standing on a rock, a loss of footing or vertigo would have the same effect.

In a meeting just weeks before his birthday, President Nelson shared the reason he cherishes the phrase “glad tidings.” On the face of it, he noted, the phrase rings of joy and happiness. But “glad tidings” conveys much more than that. He explained that this phrase comes from the original Greek word euangelion, which literally means the “good news” or the “gospel.” Happiness and joy in this life and the next are always linked with the gospel of Jesus Christ. Thus the phrase “glad tidings” captures this double meaning in a wonderful way.

I have always enjoyed reading the New Era, but not until recently have I realized how much goes into putting it together.
Our seminary visited the Church Office Building in Salt Lake City and went on the floors involved in putting together the magazines. We were amazed at all of the friendly people and all of the time and effort they put into making each issue the best possible.
After seeing all of this effort firsthand, I will always appreciate the New Era and be sure I read it from cover to cover.
Rebecca ClarkMidland, Michigan

Bruce eased his paddle into the lake water, slicing the dark substance noiselessly, watching the droplets drip from the end of his wooden blade, interrupting the rhythm of his strokes to observe the shimmering return of water to water. Wet diamonds, Bruce thought, as he watched the droplets recombine with the lake.
For the moment, they were the richest and loveliest jewels he could know.
It was late September, and the predusk air was just beginning to acquire the distinctive and leafy mustiness of early autumn. The Connecticut evenings were chilly already, yet Bruce sensed the first morning of frost was still weeks away. When he was younger, the coming of the frost mattered little to him, for September meant only one horrible and inescapable event: the removal of freedom. He was not conscious of beginnings then, as he was today; he was aware only of endings. He smiled as he pushed the paddle deep into the water again, for he could still feel the horrible cringe in his mind that haunted him during the last weeks of summer every year. How he hated to relinquish the freedom of his summer to the walls of a school.
Again Bruce smiled, this time more to the familiar back that occupied the forward seat of his canoe than to the endless water. He had picked Bob up tonight at his gas station, both of them curious to try out the old fishing spots one more time before Bruce took off for Utah and then Germany. They had left the station at 4:30, and when they arrived at the lake, there still were a few hours of daylight left.
“You really think there’s fish left in this puddle?” Bob asked, as he and Bruce lifted the canoe off the roof of the Bug and carried it over their heads to the water’s edge. “Bet the acid rain has just about wiped this place out.”
“Sure there’s fish. How can you doubt it? You just have to find them.” But they had found none so far, Bruce had to acknowledge, though the reawakening of memories had been well worth the trip.
“Hey Bruce, can’t you remember those stars?” Bob said. The silent onset of dusk had begun to slip in over the lake. “Don’t you remember those nights?” He was silent for a moment, then continued. “It really isn’t that long ago—just two years since the last time we were up here, right? But man! Those stars. Sometimes when I work the pumps at night now, I remember those stars.”
How could anyone forget them, Bruce thought, checking his line for bass as Bob spoke. They had been trolling the lake for about a half hour now, but still no luck. Sometimes it was like that.
“Those stars, Bruce.” Bob laughed. “Man, I still can’t say what they make me feel.”
They stopped paddling, then floated freely, words stuck in the stuff of their memories. Suddenly it seemed to Bruce that he was 14 again, and he and Bob were lying on their backs on the seats of their old rowboat, their lines limp at the side of the boat.
“You caught any fish back there?” Bob asked, snapping Bruce back into the present.
Bruce looked at his line; it hung lifelessly in the dark.
“Maybe it’s time to head back,” Bob suggested.
Bruce said nothing. It was hard to stop fishing. He was always filled with the wild hope of just one more minute, just one more moment of patience, and then the tiniest movement of the line would come. If you weren’t careful, you would miss that gentle sign of interest, and the hope would be gone.
“Another 15 minutes, Bob. Let’s wait till it’s real dark. Then we’ll go back.”
Bruce reeled in his line, then pulled the pole back and cast out with one final hope for success. Setting the rod in the bottom of the canoe, he turned in the seat to get more comfortable and bumped his pole in the process. It jerked precariously, the line getting caught under the bow of the canoe. Impulsively, Bruce reached his hand into the black and unknowable water, the dark liquid now fused with the dimming horizon that was tentatively lit by a few of the earliest stars. Bruce tugged at the trapped line with his hand, freeing it, and then, for some reason, felt reluctant to let it go. Unexpectedly, the line raced through his enclosing fingers, pulled taut with certain promise.
“Hey Bob!” Bruce called softly, carefully pulling his hand in from the water, unwilling to disturb the pulse of the line. “I think I’ve got something, my friend.”

As two missionary sisters currently serving in the England Bristol Mission, we have really appreciated the New Era during the past week. One of us has had a contagious throat infection, so we weren’t allowed to contact people. The doctor said, “Do not spread the gospel or your germs!” Hence we’ve had plenty of time to study. Although none of the New Eras in our flat are too up to date, the oldies gave us plenty of “food for thought.” Keep up the good articles!
Sisters Reid and HornbyEngland Bristol Mission

The Prophet Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum were murdered on June 27, 1844, by a mob while they were held in state custody. After their martyrdom, persecution and mobs threatened to destroy members of the Church while they were building the Nauvoo Temple. But they pressed on even while knowing they would have to abandon it. Before being driven out by mobs, they attended the temple day and night to make sacred promises that would unite them eternally as families.14

The other night I was flying home from a distant conference. I had been away only three days, but as the flood lights of the airport loomed up, I welled up with anticipation and excitement. I felt as though I could have been a great hero returning from space—and what caused this excitement? I was going back to my family. Does it have to take flights away from home, a child leaving for college, or the death of a husband who will never again leave his hat in an awkward place to remind us how sweet are the moments with our loved ones and friends? How brief they are in the run of time? Does it take these things to stop us in our picking at trifling faults to realize the beauty of every minute together?

I remember being excited to receive my endowment when I was getting ready to leave for my mission. I also remember having that excitement turn to worry and confusion after some family members gave me veiled warnings about attending for the first time.
I knew their intentions were genuine in trying to help me have a good experience. But I wish that instead of focusing on warning me that the temple was unfamiliar, people had helped prepare me for the temple in uplifting and correct ways.

This Church began in the very early days of its history to provide for the erection of a temple (see Doctrine and Covenants 36:8; 42:36; 133:2). On the first day of June 1833, in a revelation to the Prophet Joseph Smith, the Lord directed the immediate building of a holy house in which He promised to endow His chosen servants with power and authority (see Doctrine and Covenants 95). The people responded to the call with willingness and devotion. In spite of dire poverty and in the face of unrelenting persecution, the work was carried to completion, and in March 1836 the first temple of modern times was dedicated at Kirtland, Ohio (see Doctrine and Covenants 109). The dedicatory services were marked by divine manifestations comparable to those attending the offering of the first temple of olden times, and on later occasions heavenly beings appeared within the sacred precincts with revelations of the divine will to man. In that place the Lord Jesus was again seen and heard (see Doctrine and Covenants 110:1–10).

Within two years from the time of its dedication, the Kirtland Temple was abandoned by the people who built it; they were forced to flee because of persecution, and with their departure the sacred temple became an ordinary house.