Gospel Story Finder

I had made the commitment to serve a mission, but there is also mandatory military service in South Korea. After high school, many young men entered the military, fulfilled their mandatory service, and immediately pursued an education and found jobs. It was difficult to give another two years to missionary service. There were only a few Korean elders then.
When I turned 19, I kept my commitment and prepared and sent in my mission papers. I was called to serve in the Korea Busan Mission. One year later, I was drafted into the military. I was so sad that I had to stop my mission.
When I completed my military service three years later, I felt that I had not yet completed my mission. Everyone told me, “You already served a mission. The Lord understands your situation, so serving for only one year is OK.”
I asked my good friend from seminary what I should do. She said that she knew I would serve another year of my mission. Her trust gave me confidence and confirmation to serve more. I served the second year of my mission in the Korea Seoul Mission. By the time I finished, I was 25 years old. I later married that same friend and we were sealed in the Laie Hawaii Temple.
This experience taught me that you will be all right even when things do not happen the way you had designed. When your plans and vision fit with the Lord’s will for you, He will help you in your life decisions.

Prayer was a very important part of my life. As a child, I was taught to pray. I remember one time when I was riding out to the ranch with my father. As he drove, he started humming or singing, “‘Ere you left your room this morning, Did you think to pray?’”* Then he glanced at me and asked, “Son, did you pray this morning?”
“No.”
“Don’t you pray in the mornings?”
“I pray at night,” I replied.
At that moment, he took the time to explain to me the importance of praying in the morning and at night. From that time on, it became part of my life to pray both morning and night. In 2 Nephi 26:15 [2 Ne. 26:15], we are told that “the prayers of the faithful shall be heard.” We often experienced that scripture. I learned in my youth that as we were faithful and did our part, the Lord blessed us.

One week after a recent assignment to create the first stake in Moscow, Russia,1 I attended a district conference in St. Petersburg. While speaking about my gratitude for early missionaries and local leaders who brought strength to the Church in Russia, I mentioned the name of Vyacheslav Efimov. He was the first Russian convert to become a mission president. He and his wife did wonderfully well in that assignment. Not long after they had completed their mission, and much to our sorrow, President Efimov suddenly passed away.2 He was only 52 years of age.
While speaking of this pioneering couple, I felt impressed to ask the congregation if Sister Efimov might be present. Far in the rear of the room, a woman stood. I invited her to come to the microphone. Yes, it was Sister Galina Efimov. She spoke with conviction and bore a powerful testimony of the Lord, of His gospel, and of His restored Church. She and her husband had been sealed in the holy temple. She said they were united forever. They were still missionary companions, she on this side of the veil and he on the other side.3 With tears of joy, she thanked God for sacred temple covenants. I wept too, with full realization that the everlasting unity exemplified by this faithful couple was the righteous result of making, keeping, and honoring sacred covenants.

Recently I reviewed an essay from an applicant from the United States before I made a call to interview her. With her permission and changing names and places, I want to share it with you:
"Everyone has setbacks. My setback isn't very original since it seems like many parents these days get divorced. It's sad to think that there are only a few people I know with parents that are still together. My parents divorced when I was about five years old. At the time, I thought my dad would be back in just a couple of days, but as I got older I realized my parents would never get back together. I grew up in Flagstaff my whole life, but when they separated my dad went to live in Denver, and never came back. Growing up I went back and forth from Flagstaff to Denver.
"On breaks I would visit my dad and meet him halfway in a little town called Fruita between Wendy's and McDonald's. In that parking lot, a lot of tears were shed knowing I would be leaving one parent to be with another. The older I got, the more responsibilities I gained and the harder it was to visit my dad. I feel like I missed out on precious moments that could have been spent with my dad."
I then called this young woman and we became acquainted. We talked about her sad essay. I wanted her to understand something about the spirit of BYU-Hawaii. She had visited the PCC before and remembered the beautiful temple on the hill. I said, "Did you know the temple is closed on Sundays? We don't hold church there."
"Then what is it for?" she asked.
"It's where we perform weddings." I responded. We had talked earlier about the Honor Code, the law of chastity and other important parts of LDS culture on our campus. I said, "Marriage is very important to members of our faith. Many students at BYU-Hawaii date and get married. And when they marry they do it in the temple." I explained that in the temple, "We do not marry for just this life, but also for eternity. There, we are promised by the authority of God, to be sweethearts forever and that our children will always be ours if we keep God's commandments. We believe that marriage for time and eternity is part of God's plan for happiness."
"That is beautiful," she said. I could tell she was touched.

Jensen: I guess going on a mission is something you always have in the back of your mind, but I hadn’t made the commitment as early as I should have. Then when I started having a lot of success in sports, I wondered if I couldn’t motivate people with that example instead. I remember sitting down with Coach (LaVell) Edwards. The things he said had a great influence. He said that if I was thinking about a mission I should go and that he would support my decision. I remember talking to my dad and my old high school coach and some of those people that had been an influence on me. I decided that a mission would really help me in a lot of ways.

One day when strolling down the road on which the Bridlington meeting house stands, my mind not taken up so much as usual with the needs of the day, I took to looking at the buildings that line this very ancient of streets.
My first observation was a surprising one, when I realised there had been eight churches of different denominations on the street at some point. Many were still there, but now used for different purposes than their builders intended. I then began to wonder at what had been on the sites of new buildings squeezed between the Victorian shops and houses. My curiosity aroused, I made a visit to our local studies library, and returned many times, as I became absorbed in the history of this road that had existed since pre-Christian times.
I was fascinated and felt that maybe others of the town would be also. This thought coincided with an invitation to attend a meeting to discuss ideas for the year’s Heritage Open Days (every September thousands of volunteers in towns and cities across the country organise events to celebrate Britain’s heritage and culture). I went along and volunteered to give a talk and put on an exhibition on the history of the street. Conscious that the biggest problem in doing so is finding a location, I had previously approached the Bishop and been given permission to use the church building.
A further thought had already come into my mind- why not extend the event to include a chapel Open House? Saddened by the missionaries’ lack of success in getting people to come into the building, I felt that putting on something of a nonreligious nature could be the encouragement people needed and hopefully once in the building, they might ask questions, pick up leaflets and read things on notice boards.
The foyer had the history of the Bridlington Ward, the Church’s involvement in humanitarian aid, emergency preparedness and ‘Just Serve.’ The notice board in the baptismal font told of Christ’s original Church, the apostasy and the restoration; and our belief in the need for baptism and the form it should take. Displays on the work of Relief Society, the Young Men and Young Women’s programmes and Primary, filled the classrooms, and the Elders Quorum were on hand to give help and advice on family history and show a film about one brother’s experience of finding out more about his family than merely their names and dates.
With excellent advertising on social media, in local newspapers and free events booklets supplied by the Heritage Week organisation, seventy people attended. No one asked the missionaries for the discussions, no-one new appeared at church the following day, but one man who attended the lecture approached me and raised my spirits when he expressed his appreciation for being able to tour the building and learn something of our beliefs. Others may have felt the same, but not expressed it. Seeds were sown and continued effort and new ideas will bring results. As Christ said: "If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you." (Matthew 17:20)

When I was 16 years old, my oldest brother, Ivan, who was 22 at that time, came home one day and shared some news with the family. He had decided to get baptized in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Our parents looked at him somewhat skeptically, and I remember not completely understanding what was going on. A year or so later, he gave us more surprising news: he had decided to serve as a missionary of the Church, which meant that we were not going to see him for two years. My parents were not thrilled with this news; however, I saw in him a clear determination that increased my admiration for him and the decision he had made.

Olmedo Roldán, 18, sees missionary work as a natural result of friendship. “A few days after I was baptized,” he says, “I read in the Liahona about a young man who helped the full-time missionaries even though he had just been baptized. So the next day I helped the missionaries too! And I loved it. Now the bishop has called me to serve as a ward missionary, and I’m preparing to serve a full-time mission. It was through missionary work that we found the Church. A lot of people need the Church and are looking for it. We can help them find it.”

A man told this story about his youth. It seems that when he was seventeen, he used to run with a gang of boys who had great times together. One night after they had been together, he heard the shouting of excited people coming toward his house. Being curious, he dressed and went downstairs to discover that a mob was approaching. It was not long until it arrived and from it sprang three or four of his friends, all members of the gang. One of them said to him, “Come with us, Joe. This man has hurt a girl and we’re going to lynch him.” Before Joe could ask any questions, they grabbed him by the arms and he was swept along in a swirling, shouting sea of humanity.
A mile from his house was a large oak tree. Almost before he knew what was happening, the mob had placed a rope around the accused man’s neck, placed him on a horse, and thrown the rope over the limb of a tree. The moment of death had arrived. Have you ever known such a moment when important things weigh in the balance?
A profound silence came over the mob. The last details of the lynching had been completed. Quite by chance or by the force of circumstance, Joe found himself right next to the horse. Suddenly, the leader—and every mob has such a leader—shouted at him. “Joe, kick that horse and let’s get this thing over with.” The tension within Joe could not be described. He’d never seen this man before. But here Joe was with all these people watching him, anxious for him to carry out the command. He felt the pressure as he hesitated, but then, blinded by emotion and the desire to have the approval of the mob, he kicked the horse. The man met his death.
The next day the mob discovered that they had lynched an innocent human being. This man had had nothing to do with the alleged crime. And for sixty-five years Joe tried to find peace. He wished again and again in the agony of his soul that at the moment when the mob took him along and he found himself by the side of the horse he had had the ability and courage to live as his conscience dictated.
But from his agony and suffering he reported that he learned many things. He learned that some people try to have many consciences. “This is the way I act with the gang because I want their approval. And this is the way I act in school or at work. This is the way I act in church, but this is the way I act on Saturday night.”

One example of this process concerns the law of the fast. My parents were very supportive as I shared with them the details of my newly developing faith. My mother, however, became really concerned when I discussed with her my desire to participate in a 24-hour fast. She was shocked, not being able to accept that such a proposal was appropriate. She was adamant, saying she would not allow me to fast while in her home, fearing it would be detrimental to my health.
It was with a feeling of relief that I reported my mother’s objections to my member missionary, Pamela, informing her that unfortunately I would not be able to participate in the fast. Without hesitation, she responded, “We can easily take care of that. I’ll arrange with my parents for you to stay at our home for the weekend so you can fast with us.”
This was my introduction to the law of the fast. As I continued to observe this law each fast day, I gradually gained a testimony of the principle of fasting.

In addition to temples, surely another holy place on earth ought to be our homes. The feelings of holiness in my home prepared me for feelings of holiness in the temple. Before I went on my first mission to Brazil, my mother lovingly hand made a piece of temple clothing for me to wear when I went to the temple. It is now old and frayed, but it is a special, sacred symbol of Mother’s love for that which is holy.

Such a family was Oskar and Albertina Andersson, who became members of the Church in 1915. After World War II, Oskar, Albertina, and seven of their children who had married members made the heart-rending decision to sell all they owned and “travel to Zion.” From 1949 to 1950, 29 members of the Andersson family left Sweden. Oskar and Albertina left their home, three children, and four grandchildren, whom they would never see again. They arrived in a desert and a city where the people spoke a language they did not understand. But for these faithful members, being close to the temple was more important than anything else.
Members of the Andersson family have since served as missionaries and Church leaders in all parts of the world, including as an Area President in Africa and a temple president in Sweden.

I recently read the account of a man who, just after the passing of his wife, opened her dresser drawer and found there an item of clothing she had purchased when they visited the eastern part of the United States nine years earlier. She had not worn it but was saving it for a special occasion. Now, of course, that occasion would never come.
In relating the experience to a friend, the husband said, “Don’t save something only for a special occasion. Every day in your life is a special occasion.”
That friend later said those words changed her life. They helped her to cease putting off the things most important to her. Said she: “Now I spend more time with my family. I use crystal glasses every day. I’ll wear new clothes to go to the supermarket if I feel like it. The words ‘someday’ and ‘one day’ are fading from my vocabulary. Now I take the time to call my relatives and closest friends. I’ve called old friends to make peace over past quarrels. I tell my family members how much I love them. I try not to delay or postpone anything that could bring laughter and joy into our lives. And each morning, I say to myself that this could be a special day. Each day, each hour, each minute is special.”

If you’ve ever taken seminary, I’m sure you remember the case studies that are included in the lessons to help us liken the scriptures unto us. And if you remember them, then no doubt you remember the one concerning what you would do if your friends asked you to cheat on an important test or you would be tempted to cheat yourself. If you’re like me, it was all black and white, and you said you would do the noble thing, the right thing.
Probably like many of us, I never really thought of these situations as something that would ever happen. It was too easy. Who wouldn’t do the right thing? Well, just a week ago, I was faced with this problem. It was the week for nine-week exams. Being a senior, I knew these tests were important; not only do they decide who passes and graduates but they are also recorded on our transcripts, the same transcripts that are sent to colleges. The night before the two tests that were going to give me problems—Advanced Chemistry and Economics—a friend called on the phone. She told me that two classmates had stolen copies of both of the tests. She had copies and would give me some early the next morning. Because she was in a hurry, my friend didn’t give me a chance to answer, which was just as well since I didn’t know what to say.
What a dilemma! Even though I was considered the best student in my class, I knew those tests would be tough. Oh, I knew I would pass even if I failed the tests, but I wanted so badly to keep that prestigious 4.0 average. I also knew I was the only LDS student in my school. It had been a worthwhile struggle to let everyone know what Mormons really believe. In fact, whenever a new person questioned me about the Church in front of my friends, it was my friends who hastened to tell my beliefs before I could answer.
All evening I thought about my problem. I tried to concentrate on how important it was for me to do well on these tests, but a thought kept nagging at me. For four years I had taken seminary and answered those case studies of how I would react in a situation exactly like this. Was I going to betray my standards after telling my friends what being a Mormon was all about? Was I now going to be a hypocrite? I decided to resist the temptation. I prayed to my Heavenly Father to make me strong and able to stand by my convictions.
At school the next morning my friend tried to give me a copy of the tests. I refused. She looked at me like I was crazy but said nothing. Later I realized that my friends had expected me to answer the questions on the stolen copies and then let a student who worked in the office run them off on the school copier for the rest of the class. I would like to say that I was looked upon as a hero, but, as it was, some of my classmates were angry with me. My true friends didn’t hold it against me. The students who had stolen the tests had my friend answer the questions and passed copies around to everyone in the class except for me and the local preacher’s son, who had also refused to get involved. I thank him for standing with me. No one ever likes to be alone. I wish I could say that I passed my tests with flying colors, but I only made an 82 on my Advanced Chemistry test. Nevertheless, I am proud of that 82.
The grades are not important when I realize that I passed an even greater test, a test of character, thanks to the gospel and seminary.

In an October general conference, Sister Grassli, the Primary General President, reported: “Nine-year-old Matt spoke in church about something he had learned from the scriptures that brought him peace. He said, ‘When my father told our family that we would be moving from Denver to Wisconsin, my mother reminded us of Lehi’s family. Like them, I was leaving the only home I had known, all my friends, my school, my ward. Luckily we were able to bring all our possessions with us, though they were in storage for three months, and we missed having a house and our “precious things.”
“‘My mother reminded us of how Nephi accepted this challenge—willingly—knowing that the Lord would “prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them” (See 1 Ne. 3:7.)
“‘I have learned that I can do without things, but not without my family. My brotheres and sisters and I have tried to be more like Nephi than his complaining brothers. I am grateful for the things that the Book of Mormon teaches us.’” (Ensign, November 1988, page 79.)
Matt was comforted by the story of Lehi’s family from the Book of Mormon. As you read or listen to stories from the scriptures, which of the stories bring you peace?

Vasily is a child who spends much of his time in the streets and is not supported by his parents in his search for truth. He found a small branch of the Church in his town, and he came to every event held at the church. He also brought his three younger brothers to church, and other friends joined him in Primary. In fact, at one time, the largest Primary in that area was made up of these little boys who are not members of the Church. They were drawn to the truth, and the light of the gospel began to be reflected in their faces. They were welcomed, protected, taught, and loved by all the members of that little branch, including youth, young adults, missionaries, teachers, and priesthood leaders. Think of the children in your neighborhood or Primary class. Who are the children in your branch or ward? Is there one, like Vasily, who needs you?

One of my finest missionary companions was Elder Nolan Bergeson. Though certainly not unfriendly or without a sense of humor, Elder Bergeson was reserved; most people thought of him as a quiet, serious-minded young man.
We made a good team, and as we found success and satisfaction in our labors, we also shared some of our previous experiences. One incident he mentioned almost casually I have never forgotten; it showed the complete dedication of Elder Bergeson.
It seemed he had been in a small congregation where a lady who was deaf and could not speak often attended. For a number of years she had told those who understood her that she would like to join the Church. However, she had not been baptized because she had never been taught the discussions by the missionaries.
It was a mission rule that all converts had to be taught the six missionary lessons before baptism. This lady could communicate only by sign language, and since none of the missionaries could speak the sign language of the deaf, none of them could teach her. Elder Bergeson met her and learned that she had been converted through reading the book A Marvelous Work and a Wonder. He also received from her a card with the signs for the alphabet on it.
Elder Bergeson was not a fast learner but he had a great desire to do the Lord’s work. He went to his apartment that night and memorized the sign for each letter of the alphabet. And the next day, in an intense six-hour finger-spelling session, he taught that lady the entire first missionary lesson, spelling each word to her and watching patiently as she spelled back the answer to each question.
Elder Bergeson might have stopped there and still been richly blessed. Instead, he went to the library, borrowed some books on sign language, and practiced continually. Each discussion became easier. The last discussion took only a little more time than it would have if both participants had been speaking audibly. The sister was baptized, and to this day in sign language she blesses Elder Bergeson’s name.
As I think of Elder Bergeson’s example, I am grateful that I was able to learn from such a fine companion. And I’m humbled, wondering how many times I have passed by a brother or sister who could have used my help if I had only had that kind of dedication.

Elder Oaks faced a similar situation in 1984 following his call to the Twelve, as he again left a position and work that he loved as a supreme court justice in the state of Utah. However, this change was different.

In 1970, Elder Oaks reasonably might have thought he would return to his legal career following his service at BYU, which in fact he eventually did. But the call in 1984 was distinctive—a consecrated commitment of his whole soul and entire life to the Lord. The eternal importance and worldwide scope of his new responsibilities truly were overwhelming.

Elder Oaks described his innermost thoughts about this important transition:
“During this period of introspection, contemplating the way I would spend the rest of my life, I asked myself what kind of an apostle I would be. Would I be a lawyer who had been called to be an apostle, or would I be an apostle who used to be a lawyer? I concluded that the answer to this question depended upon whether I would try to shape my calling to my own personal qualifications and experience, or whether I would undertake the painful process of trying to shape myself to my calling.
“Would I try to perform my calling in the world’s ways, or would I try to determine and follow the Lord’s ways?
“I made up my mind that I would try to change myself to fit my calling, that I would try to measure up to the qualifications and spiritual stature of an apostle. That is a challenge for a lifetime.”1

As I was reading the April New Era, the Missionary Focus “A Question of Service” caught my eye. My father wanted me to finish my work toward dental school rather than serve a mission. Nevertheless, I too felt the promptings of the Holy Ghost, and I chose to fulfill a mission.
I am grateful for having made that decision, because my father passed away recently when I had been in the mission field for 16 months. During those 16 months we grew closer together, and he gained a knowledge of the restoration of the gospel through my letters. I am grateful for my knowledge of the plan of salvation and await anxiously my opportunity to do his work in the temple. Thanks for the wonderful articles. They make rainy preparation days in Virginia a joy!
Elder Gordon WallinVirginia Roanoke Mission

My ultimate wilderness experience occurred in the jungles and rice paddies of Vietnam. I was an infantry platoon leader. Our combat missions took us deep into enemy controlled territory. On one occasion, our battalion was engaged in moving at night through "Indian country." We were going cross-country through an area of rice paddies checkered with patches of jungle, employing armored personnel carriers as our means of transport. Sometime well after dark, the vehicle I was riding in became deeply mired in a rice paddy bog. Three other vehicles became similarly mired not far away.

Not wanting to slow the movement or leave the battalion strung out in a potentially vulnerable column, the battalion commander elected to continue moving. He left me in command of the four stranded vehicles with the "reassurance" that he would send a reinforced party back to our aid once it was daylight.

So, there we were; some 20 men in four stranded personnel carriers strung out over about a quarter of a mile in enemy territory. It was tense! I made my way from one to the next to check on the welfare of the troops and their supply of ammunition. This was also an "adrenaline experience"-not only because of enemy soldiers that might be lurking in the blackness, but because my men were anxious and potentially trigger-happy.

Somehow, I made it safely to each one and back to my own vehicle. I then called in artillery fire to register concentrations around our position that might be needed if we were suddenly attacked. In addition, I asked for the artillery to fire flares periodically over the surrounding area, enabling us to see the battlefield more clearly.

It is difficult in the tranquil setting of this devotional to adequately convey the sense of security that came from these flares that would illuminate the landscape. Truly, they were a light in the wilderness!