Gospel Story Finder

As I thought more about the Julanders’ experience, another scripture came to mind. I hadn’t really associated it with walking before. Now, however, it seemed like a perfect goal for those who walk in order to nurture a sense of wonder: “All things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it … do witness that there is a Supreme Creator” (Alma 30:44).
It dawned on me that if I was observant as I walked, I would see many things that bore witness they were made by God. Such observations led me to admire the intricate patterns in a leaf in a neighbor’s yard, the distinctive rise of Signal Peak in the Pine Valley mountain range, and the lazy flight of a red-tailed hawk over Little Valley as living evidence that God created the world. They helped me see that “the earth is the Lord’s, and the fulness thereof” (Psalm 24:1).

They were twins, but they really didn’t look alike. Josy was taller than Kelsey. She had bright blue eyes, bouncy hair, and dimples that danced on her cheeks whenever she giggled. Kelsey, on the other hand, had a long golden ponytail that went swish, swish when she walked. Kelsey loved to tease. Her deep brown eyes would sparkle when she told a joke.
The people in Littleton loved them. Mr. Brooks, at the supermarket, said it was because of their smiles. “No,” Mrs. Applebee said. “It’s because they always say hello to everyone.” Little Max liked them because they played games. Jim, the delivery boy, said the girls were just plain fun to be around. Whatever it was, everyone agreed that the twins made people happy. Everyone, that is, except Sister Crane and Sister Goodwin.
“What are we going to do about them?” Sister Crane said. “I try to teach a new song in Primary, and they sing too loudly. Kelsey sings off-key, which makes Josy laugh. Soon the whole Primary is laughing. They need to learn to sing quietly.”
“What are we going to do about them?” Sister Goodwin asked. “I try to tell a story about Jesus. At first the girls listen, but then Kelsey finds something funny in the story, and Josy starts to laugh. Soon the whole class is laughing. They need to learn to listen.”
“The girls were twirling down the hallway last Sunday.”
“They don’t always sit on the bench.”
“Sometimes they take their shoes off in class.”
“They giggle in the middle of the quiet song.”
“We need to tell their parents.”
“No, we need to send them to their parents.”
“Break them up. Don’t let them be in the same class.”
Sister Turner, the Primary President, listened quietly. The twins weren’t bad children. They were just a little disruptively happy. “I think that maybe I should have a talk with Josy and Kelsey. Maybe I can make a difference.”
The next day, Sister Turner backed her bright yellow van out of her driveway. She chugged down the street, over the bridge, and across the park to the twins’ house. Josy came running out of the house. “Hi, Sister Turner,” she called. “Look at our new puppy!”
Just then Kelsey came out of the house, chasing a black and white puppy. Kelsey giggled as the puppy darted back and forth just out of her reach. Josy joined in chasing the puppy around in circles. Round and round they went, until the girls gave up and dropped to their knees on the grass. The little puppy pranced up to them and sat on Josy’s lap.
Sister Turner started to laugh. Suddenly she had an idea. “Girls, would you like to go to the zoo with me to see the new butterfly house?” Josy giggled. Kelsey grinned. They loved the zoo. After getting permission from their mother, they were on their way in Sister Turner’s bright yellow van.
A butterfly fluttered by Josy’s face as she opened the door of the butterfly house. “Wow,” she giggled as clouds of colorful butterflies flew over her head. She grabbed at a pink one, but it flitted away. “Let’s catch one,” Kelsey yelled, running to the other side of the room. Yellow, blue, pink, and white butterflies flew gracefully over her head.
Some of the butterflies landed on tree branches. Josy cupped her hands and crept up behind a black and orange butterfly. It flew quickly away. Kelsey turned round and round surveying the room. The beautiful butterflies were everywhere. They hovered over the pond, covered the trees like blossoms, and even dotted the path. Laughing and giggling, the twins chased the butterflies everywhere. But the beautiful insects always stayed just out of reach.
Finally Josy and Kelsey became tired and sat on a bench by Sister Turner to rest. “I guess you just can’t catch a butterfly,” Kelsey said.
“You can, if you know how,” Sister Turner replied. Josy and Kelsey looked at Sister Turner with interest. Sister Turner smiled. “Girls, do you know what reverent means?”
“Sure,” Josy answered. “It means fold your arms and don’t talk.”
Sister Turner chuckled. “Well, being quiet is part of it, but that’s not really reverence. Reverence is a feeling. It’s hard to explain, but maybe I can show you. Do you want me to?”
Kelsey grinned. She didn’t know what this had to do with butterflies, but Sister Turner knew just about everything.
“You need to sit very still and be quiet,” Sister Turner continued. “That’s the part about reverence that you already know. But if you’ll do that part, I think you’ll be surprised by the rest.” She took each girls’ hands and dipped them in the pool of water. For several minutes they just sat there with their hands cupped in front of them.
Kelsey listened. It was very quiet in the butterfly house. All you could hear was the drip, drip of the water tap.
Josy watched as the butterflies flew in the trees and hovered over the pool. They were very close. Slowly, slowly a butterfly fluttered toward her, dipped down, and landed on the palm of her hand. Josy started to giggle, but Sister Turner shook her head. Josy sat very still, watching the butterfly sip at the water on her fingers.
Sister Turner took Kelsey’s hand and placed it next to a butterfly on a nearby flower. The butterfly gracefully walked onto her hand to drink the water. A warm glow filled the girls. They had tried hard to catch a butterfly, and now, just by being quiet, each was holding one in her hand.
As the girls held their butterflies, Sister Turner whispered softly, “Reverence is a lot like these butterflies. You don’t catch a butterfly. You let it come to you. You don’t catch a reverent feeling, either. It just comes to you when you are quiet. It’s the warm feeling you are feeling right now. You can also feel it when you think about Jesus Christ or anything else wonderful. When you are in Primary next Sunday, think about how quiet you had to be to have these butterflies in your hands. Then think about Jesus, and see if you get that same reverent feeling.”
The next Sunday the twins hurried to Primary. Sister Turner greeted them at the door. She smiled and pinned a small paper butterfly on each of their dresses. “Now remember, girls, don’t scare your butterflies.”
Josy smiled. Kelsey grinned. Reverently they walked to their chairs and sat down. It was quiet in the Primary room. Kelsey listened to the soft music Sister Crane was playing. Josy closed her eyes and thought about Jesus. Slowly the girls felt a warm feeling come to them.
“Look at the twins,” Sister Goodwin whispered. “They are being reverent. What did you do?”
Sister Turner smiled. “It was easy,” she whispered back. “I just showed them how to catch a butterfly.”

I remember a few years ago my wife was the ward pianist, and I was a counselor in the stake presidency. She would manage to sit our children near the piano and from there she would try to control them. One day, one of our sons was fighting with his younger sister. My wife would give them a stern look from the piano. At the end of the services, while we were in the car, my wife told my son that he had been irreverent during sacrament meeting, and that he had not paid attention to the talks. He said that he had paid attention, so my wife asked him who spoke. He mentioned the names of the speakers and explained what they had talked about.

Eighteen-year-old Lilian Fernanda Pereira Santos of the Tijuca Ward, Rio de Janeiro Brazil Andaraí Stake, is one of the young Brazilians trying to walk by faith.
Sometimes when she politely declines invitations to parties where she knows the activities will not meet gospel standards, her friends at school say sarcastically, “Yes, we know—you’re a little saint.” Recently there was a particular party she felt she might safely attend, but her mother’s counsel and a Sunday School lesson led her to reconsider taking a chance on it. The lesson quoted a scripture, Mosiah 2:41, that is cited in her patriarchal blessing: “Consider … the blessed and happy state of those that keep the commandments of God. … If they hold out faithful to the end they are received into heaven.”
Fernanda says having friends she can associate with in her early-morning seminary class makes it easier to live the gospel and find wholesome activities. She used to be the only Latter-day Saint in her school, but now there is one more—a young woman, recently baptized, whom Fernanda introduced to the gospel by inviting her to seminary.

Lying flat on my back, staring at the mechanical paraphernalia of an X-ray machine, was not what I had expected as part of my experience in the Language Training Mission. But there I was, my right ankle all puffed and swollen; another casualty of physical activity time.
Fifteen minutes before, I had been in the middle of a close soccer game. My district was ahead with only one minute left. Suddenly, our defense weakened and the ball shot toward the goal. I ran forward as Elder Duran, my best friend on the other team, fell to the ground to block my kick. Snup! A sound like the cracking of a branch wrapped in a towel made everyone cringe. I crumpled to the ground, holding my right leg, and screamed for a doctor. Someone in the background had the nerve to say, “Viva su lengua” (live your language).
I tried to get up, but the pain in my leg convinced me to just lie there and grit my teeth. The ambulance came, and soon I was lying on the X-ray table, hoping my injury would turn out to be a mere sprain or dislocation. However, my hope for a miracle was squashed when, through the partially closed door, I overheard a nurse say, “That’s the worst break I’ve ever seen.”
No one would touch me for 45 minutes. Then a specialist arrived and confirmed the nurse’s comment about my ankle. By 11:00 P.M. I was semi-conscious in a hospital bed, still groggy from an operation to insert a screw into my ankle. My only thought at the time was that I would be left behind when the 21 elders in my group left for the Guatemala-El Salvador Mission two weeks later.
After four days in the hospital, I hobbled back to the LTM on crutches. I don’t know if words can describe what it was like to be in the LTM for five weeks after I had learned all the lessons. I could say them backwards and forwards, in my sleep, in the shower, upside down, and in-between.
A group of missionaries was scheduled to leave for Guatemala four days after my cast was removed, but I still had two weeks of therapy ahead of me. By the power of fervent persuasion that only a missionary has, however, my doctor was convinced I could go as long as I didn’t do any excessive walking for the first few weeks. Finally!
The excitement in my body must have been the healing factor in my bones. By the time I got to the airport, I was hyperactive. To prove my ankle was as good as new, I did the Mexican hat dance, a tap routine, hopped on one foot, and showed everybody the eight-inch scar on my right ankle. I can’t remember all I did, but my antics were enough to bring gasps and concerned looks from my mother and comments like, “He hasn’t changed a bit,” from my friends.

During my second year in seminary, we had only three students in our class, but we had an incredible teacher who enjoyed sharing the gospel with us. In one class, we learned about how many people thought that the Church would come apart following the deaths of Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum. But other early members of the Church remembered that this is God’s Church, not man’s Church. Our teacher taught us that the Church would not fail, because it is the Church of Jesus Christ.
There is no doubt that our lives were changed by that lesson. That afternoon, we decided that we would serve the Lord with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength. We would prepare to serve full-time missions. I continued attending seminary.
Over the following two years, I could tell how my life was being blessed from attending seminary, as well as how preparing to serve the Lord nourished my testimony and my desire to serve.
Attending seminary confirmed to me how special I am to Heavenly Father. It has helped me apply the gospel in my life, and above all it has helped me understand that the gospel is not something we live only on Sundays. Seminary confirmed my desire to serve a mission. There is no doubt in my mind that the blessings of seminary remain present in my life. No one said it would be easy, but if we do decide to attend seminary, the Lord will bless us and will give us the strength necessary to fulfill the desires of our heart.

How do we come unto Him? Last April, President Russell M. Nelson and Elder M. Russell Ballard encouraged us to study “The Living Christ”7 as part of learning about the Savior. Many have accepted the challenge and been blessed. Not long ago a dear friend gave each of her adult children copies of the document with gospel pictures to illustrate each phrase. She encouraged her children to help her grandchildren understand and memorize it. Sometime later my friend shared a video of her six-year-old granddaughter, Laynie, reciting her memorized version with enthusiasm and poise. I realized that if a six-year-old could do it, so can I!

As I have studied the life and teachings of Jesus Christ with more focus and committed “The Living Christ” to memory, my gratitude and love for our Savior have increased. Each sentence of that inspired document contains a sermon and has enhanced my understanding of His divine roles and earthly mission. What I have learned and felt through this period of study and reflection confirms that Jesus truly “is the light, the life, and the hope of the world.”8 Ancient scripture and latter-day prophets’ words written or spoken in praise of Him bear witness that “His way is the path that leads to happiness in this life and eternal life in the world to come.”9

When speaking of preparation for his new calling, Elder Waddell speaks of the temple.

“What prepared us for this? When we went to the temple for the first time and made covenants, we pledged to be willing to do whatever it was the Lord asked us, even if it wasn’t convenient,” he says. “Going to the temple, serving a mission, making covenants, and then seeing His hand and how He directs the work—that is all you need. We aren’t doing anything unique; we are keeping covenants we’ve made, just like everyone else.”

At church, I was called as a ward clerk and later as a counselor in the bishopric. I couldn’t believe that someone in a wheelchair could serve. My accident had made me feel useless, but working in the Church made me feel useful and helped me realize I could contribute. I love the opportunity to grow closer to Jesus Christ as I serve.
As a counselor in the bishopric, I wanted to be guided so I could be better at my calling. That made me want to prepare more for each Sunday. I got into the habit of reading my scriptures, and I had opportunities to bear my testimony. Being a leader at church even helped me become a leader at work. I built up the feeling that I could lead and speak up, allowing me to lead in other areas.
“Working in the Church made me feel useful and realize that I could contribute,” says Posenai. “I love the opportunity to grow closer to Jesus Christ as I serve.”

A woman I know was married about 50 years ago in the temple. After she and her husband had had several children, his turbulent life led to their divorce and to his excommunication from the Church. Then she gave up her own Church membership and chose some thorny paths. Later her former husband passed away. I met her when her daughter brought her to my office to explore whether the mother could ever return to the temple.

After a peaceful conversation about how we can learn from experience without being condemned by it, we discussed the processes of repentance, rebaptism, and the restoration of temple blessings. Then I told her that the restoration ordinance would also restore her temple sealing. Was she ready for that?

The daughter spoke first. “I have bipolar disorder,” she said. “My son is bipolar. We know far more about that disorder than we used to, and we take medications that help. Looking back, I believe my father was bipolar, and that probably influenced many of the hard things in our family’s life. I don’t judge him now.”

The mother answered softly, “If I really can return to the temple someday, I will be ready for my sealing to be restored.”

As I watched them walk down the hall, I realized that the temple and Elijah’s sealing power are sources of reconciliation, turning not only the hearts of children and parents toward one another but also turning the hearts of wives and husbands toward one another. I later received a message that the mother was being rebaptized.

The children shuffled in as usual, the timid ones clinging to their mothers’ skirts, the bold ones smiling happily on the front rows. Everything seemed normal—except who is that playing the music? Someone different is conducting, and look at all those teenagers scattered among the children.
In the Vancouver 9th Ward, Vancouver Washington Stake, the Young Men and Young Women took over the Primary for one day. The adult members of the ward had been called to attend a special meeting with the bishop. The young people gladly accepted the assignment as substitute teachers and music leaders. Both the children and the youth loved the experience as they learned from each other.

I read the Book of Mormon from cover to cover for the first time when I was a young seminary student. I still remember the warm feeling that swelled in my soul, filled my heart, enlightened my understanding, and became more and more delightful, as described by Alma when he preached the word of God to his people (see Alma 32). That feeling and additional light and truth with which the Lord saw fit to bless me eventually turned into knowledge that took root in my heart and became the foundation of my testimony. The Book of Mormon is the keystone that sustains my faith in the Lord and my testimony of the doctrine of Jesus Christ. It is one of the cornerstones that strengthens my witness of the truth of Christ’s divine atoning sacrifice. It is my shield against the adversary’s attempts to weaken my faith and instill disbelief and darkness in my mind. It gives me courage to boldly declare my testimony of the light and truth of the Savior to the world. I promise you that as you prayerfully and consistently study the Book of Mormon, you will find light and truth in your life and you will come closer to our Savior Jesus Christ and learn how to walk with Him.

During my last year of high school, I decided I had to strengthen my testimony before I left for college. I studied all I could about the Savior’s life and His atoning sacrifice. As I did so, the reality of His love struck me so powerfully that it brought me to tears. I realized that I am indeed a beloved daughter of God. As the magnitude of this sank deep into my very being, I realized that dressing modestly is not just to prevent the boys from thinking bad thoughts. It is a way to show our appreciation for one of the most wonderful gifts God has given us: a body.
May I suggest that Church members be taught to be modest because they love and respect themselves and the Lord and they want to honor His gift. I never had a strong testimony of modesty until I learned to love Heavenly Father and the Savior more deeply.
Brenda Petty, Idaho, USA

I hope with all my heart that we shall never slip into a depression. I am a child of the Great Depression of the thirties. I finished the university in 1932, when unemployment in this area exceeded 33 percent.
My father was then president of the largest stake in the Church in this valley. It was before our present welfare program was established. He walked the floor worrying about his people. He and his associates established a great wood-chopping project designed to keep the home furnaces and stoves going and the people warm in the winter. They had no money with which to buy coal. Men who had been affluent were among those who chopped wood.
I repeat, I hope we will never again see such a depression.

President McKay’s bearing, nobility, and dignity and his love of the Savior he served were evidenced in every word he spoke and in every thing he did. But what he had become through his commitment to the gospel was evident even when he sat peacefully and said nothing. The following incident is told by a man who met President McKay on his return from one of his visits to Europe:
“I remember being in New York when President McKay returned from Europe. Arrangements had been made for pictures to be taken, but the regular photographer was unable to go, so in desperation the United Press picked their crime photographer—a man accustomed to the toughest type of work in New York. He went to the airport, stayed there two hours, and returned later from the dark room with a tremendous sheaf of pictures. He was supposed to take only two. His boss immediately chided him: ‘What in the world are you wasting your time and all those photographic supplies for?’
“The photographer replied very curtly, saying he would gladly pay for the extra materials, and they could even dock him for the extra time he took. It was obvious that he was very touchy about it. Several hours later the vice-president called him to his office, wanting to learn what happened. The crime photographer said, ‘When I was a little boy, my mother used to read to me out of the Old Testament, and all my life I have wondered what a prophet of God must really look like. Well, today I found one.’”

Emma H., 9, put her beautiful baptism dress on for this special day. She was so happy to be there with her parents. She held her temple recommend close to her heart.
Emma said, “I learned from the scriptures during my preparation that there are two kinds of people. Those who are working hard to go to the temple and those who are passively waiting. I want to be the first one.”

My beloved brothers and sisters, it is with deep humility and great appreciation that I stand in this holy place. As a little boy growing up in Raymond, Alberta, Canada, I loved it every time we sang, “I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord” (see Hymns, no. 270). Those words, each time we sang them in a sacrament meeting or Sunday School, burned commitment into my heart and soul, that I always wanted to go where the Lord wanted me to go, to say what He wanted me to say—“I’ll be what you want me to be,” dear Lord. That commitment seems appropriate to restate today.

As a young man I read three books that also had quite an influence on my life. The first was one of Wilford Woodruff’s doctrinal works. I think that my testimony and my great love for the prophets started with reading that book. As I read, the Spirit bore witness to me of the truthfulness of the doctrine.
The second book was by William H. Danforth and was called I Dare You. It discussed these four phases of life: social, educational, spiritual, and intellectual. The third was How to Win Friends and Influence People by Dale Carnegie. These books gave me a desire to read, and since then I have been an avid reader.

I would like to congratulate you on the fine quality of the New Era. Ever since I was made a deacons quorum president, the gospel has been a large part of my life. I recently read some of our old New Eras and was impressed, inspired, and motivated by many of the articles. Some of these were “The Heart of the Two-Mile Game” (September 1975), “Q and A” (May 1972), The June 1973 Missionary Issue, “Just for Today” (January 1975), and “Swifter, Higher, Stronger” in the September 1981 issue. I was just made a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood, and my brother was made the teachers quorum president. My faith and testimony of the gospel are growing because of the New Era. I am interested in any physical fitness articles you print because I am an avid sports enthusiast. Thank you for the inspiration the New Era gives all of us.
Sean BrothersonOrem, Utah

I hear swear words at my school all the time. Even some of my teachers swear. But I choose to live all the standards of the Church even if they are hard to keep. Other standards like the Word of Wisdom or dressing modestly are easier for me to keep. I know following the Word of Wisdom will keep me safe. I’ve also developed my style so I can always find something to wear that is both modest and stylish. I don’t have to sacrifice my style to live my standards.