Gospel Story Finder

Currently I am swimming, serving as a student body officer, learning the piano and bass trombone, playing the piano for priesthood opening exercises, keeping an A average in AP classes, doing my duties as a priest and Eagle Scout, and holding a job to earn money for my mission. Most of the times overlap. I finally had to sit down and make a weekly schedule. This helped tremendously. I left at least 10 minutes of “me time” between each of these activities. But when work and swim continued to fill the same time slot, I had to drop swim for a while. That relieved much of the stress I was going through. Sometimes you just have to let things go, and prioritize your activities in order of importance.
Ryan G., 18, Mississippi

One man described the hurt when his wife voiced a negative comment just as he was leaving town on business. There was not time enough to talk through the criticism. He left in a depressed and discouraged state, which adversely affected his trip.

I met Bill Forrest and Debbie Hutchings when we were students at Brigham Young University. Bill had returned from his mission. He and Debbie fell in love and were married in the Oakland California Temple. They established their home in Mesa, Arizona, and were blessed with five sons and two daughters. Bill and Debbie taught their children to love the Lord Jesus Christ as they loved Him. Their son, Elder Daniel Forrest, currently serving in the Mexico Oaxaca Mission, said, “Every morning without fail we were there at the table before school reading and discussing the scriptures.”

Their daughter Kara, now married with two children of her own, still vividly remembers her father driving her to early morning activities in high school. She said, “My dad enjoyed committing quotes, scriptures, and poems to memory, [and during those early morning drives] we would practice reciting them.” One of his favorite scriptures was “Remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, … [he] shall have no power over you to drag you down … , because of the rock upon which ye are built.”

On the Friday before Easter Sunday in the year 2000, exactly 10 years ago, Bill Forrest was serving as bishop of the Estate Groves Ward in Arizona. On his drive to work, only a mile (1.6 km) from home, his car was struck by a large gravel truck. Debbie and the children left home shortly after Bill and unexpectedly came upon the tragic scene. Bill had not survived the accident. The immortal spirit of this beloved husband and father had suddenly been taken home to Him who overcame death, the Son of God, whose glorious Resurrection they were to have celebrated together that Easter Sunday.

How did Debbie and her seven children (the youngest only 5) find the strength they needed? Kara, 15 at the time of her father’s accident, recently told me: “I am grateful to my [mother and father] for the ways that they taught me [about the Savior]. They opened the scriptures with me, prayed with me, and were examples of [the Savior’s] charity, love, and patience. … Easter [is] a tender time in my life each year as I reflect on the life, mission, and Resurrection of our Savior and am reminded of the life of my earthly father.”

Elder Daniel Forrest said: “I was 10 years old when my father passed away. It was a tough time. … My mother has always been an example of the Savior’s teachings. I carry with me my father’s name badge from his mission to Spain. [Two] of my favorite quotes from my father [are]: ‘Two men can do anything as long as one of them is the Lord’ and ‘The Savior must be our foundation. Without that we flounder.’”

Faith in Jesus Christ has filled the hearts of the Forrest children. On this Easter weekend, 10 years since their father’s passing, they miss him deeply, but the sting of his death is “swallowed up in Christ.” They know, because of the incalculable gift of the Savior, they can be with their earthly father and their Heavenly Father again.

Somehow I always knew that God was listening to me. When I finally went to a church at age 15 and learned about the Bible, I looked back at so many experiences and knew that the knowledge I had received from praying came from God.

Dot Todman, 18, knows that’s true.
“I grew up with a good friend named Kelly,” Dot explains. “I always knew she was a Mormon, but I didn’t know what Mormons were or anything about them. Kelly moved away, but we kept in contact. Then this year I was on a school choir trip, and we arranged to meet again.
“We were just talking, catching up on our lives, and then somehow religion got brought up. I told her I didn’t feel the church I was attending was right for me. It was kind of like a spiritual kindergarten.
“She said, ‘In our religion, you’d be surprised. It goes all the way up to university level.’ That intrigued me. I asked her to write to me, to tell me about it in her own words.
“I waited for her letter. I waited and waited. In the meantime, another LDS friend of mine tried to get me in touch with the missionaries. But I didn’t want to talk to them until I’d heard from Kelly.
“Finally I called her. She said, ‘Are you still interested?’ She sent me a letter and bore her testimony, and that opened the door.”
Dot found the light she’d searched for, and it grew brighter and brighter. She joined the Church and is now a member of the Barrie Ward, sharing the gospel herself. But Kelly made a discovery, too. She discovered that others were searching for the light she already had.

Read “How to Get an Answer” on page 46. Bring a padlock to class with numerous keys. Have someone try to open the lock selecting only one key. Point out that to be successful, the person will have to “study it out” or try several keys to find the right one. Compare it to the advice given by Elder Merrill C. Oaks on keys to making wise decisions.

I first heard about the Church while babysitting. The children I was watching asked me to read out of the Friend magazine with them. We read through a few stories together, but then it was time for bed. Once they were asleep, I returned to the brightly colored magazine on the table. The children inside were so happy and lovingly talked about a Heavenly Father.
When I was finished reading, I noticed “The Living Christ” hanging on the wall behind me and beautiful prints of temples in the kids’ rooms. I had such a great feeling in my heart looking at everything, but after I went home, I forgot about my amazing discovery.

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.

(President of the Church from 1918 to 1945)
President Heber J. Grant taught his family to look for ways to be unselfish during Christmas. One year President Grant’s children decided to donate money to help build the Salt Lake Temple instead of getting Christmas presents. Another year President Grant noticed that a woman he worked with was very poor. His family decided to take the money they would have spent on gifts for each other and give it to her instead. The woman was overjoyed on Christmas morning when President Grant handed her a turkey and a check to help pay for her house!

On the evening of 11 September, President Gordon B. Hinckley spoke at a previously scheduled Mormon Tabernacle Choir concert that was turned into a memorial service. “Dark as is this hour,” said the Church President, “there is shining through the heavy overcast of fear and anger the solemn and wonderful image of the Son of God. It is to Him that we look in these circumstances.”

Just two months ago today, members of my family gathered together in the Salt Lake Temple to perform sealings for some of our deceased ancestors. This was one of the most spiritual experiences our family has had together and enhanced the love we have for one another and the obligation which is ours to live worthy of our heritage.

When I was a teenager, I lived in Japan for a few months without my family. One night I felt very worried. I had a lot of big questions, and I was nervous. I knelt by my bed and prayed. I said the words out loud instead of in my mind. I poured out my worries to Heavenly Father.
All of a sudden a wonderful feeling came. My worries disappeared. The Holy Ghost filled the whole room with peace. I knew that peace was a gift from my Heavenly Father. I felt that He really did love me and that He wanted me to be happy.

A few years ago, as a birthday gift, I went to the FamilySearch® system and retrieved my wife’s entire recorded family pedigree. That was a serious mistake. The computer revealed that my wife is a descendant of European royalty. It has been hard to live with her ever since. Maybe now, through this knowledge of her family history, I am more inclined to treat her as our family queen. But the biggest problem, of course, is that my children share in this royal ancestry, which, sadly, makes me the only “commoner” in my family.

Jillayne Cozzens’s value project makes baptisms even more special for girls turning eight in the Moab Utah Stake.
“I was taking a sewing class and wanted to do something for a value project. So my mom and I put two different patterns together and designed a frilly jumpsuit for the girls to wear. I made four outfits over the next month,” she says.
Soon afterward, a friend’s niece was baptized in one of the outfits. “She was so excited to have something feminine to wear that didn’t float up,” Jillayne says. “Value projects are really cool. I have done five of them and learned so much.”

In one sense, the standard of truth for the world has become relative to what feels good. Any questioning of one’s “own truth,” as defined by them for themselves, is taken as controversial and a personal attack. Information without a standard and with the absence of light and truth creates an alternate reality. Consider, for example, the many rabbit holes you have gone down as the algorithms of the internet have shown more and more content and information based on your clicks and likes. The more you click on something, the more the algorithms of the internet show similar content—not in pursuit of truth but in order to improve advertising and revenue. For example, if you click on dog videos, you may soon think that everyone loves dogs and has a dog and that the internet was actually created by a dog for dog lovers. The internet will show you an ever-increasing number of these images and advertisements to the point that you might start to think that you really need a dog.

“On the Fourth of July we camped for the day, not entirely to celebrate, but to wash and do mending and various other things that were necessary. We camped in a pretty place near a creek. I was to wash with Phebe’s help. She was only twelve but very energetic. We selected a place quite secluded, close to the creek where we could have plenty of water. Well, we were making the suds foam when a dapper young gentleman from New York, a nephew of our captain, who was on his way to California, discovered us and brought a drink and a large piece of delicious fruitcake which was made to celebrate the Fourth on the plains. A rather embarrassing position, to accept this compliment in the midst of soiled linen and soapsuds. I had not been introduced to him before. However, I accepted the cake and drink with great patriotism, and from that time he often called at our wagon—that is, our wagon yard. Everyone was supposed to honor all the land that was occupied by ox yokes, camp kettles, and everything that goes to make an outfit for traveling. So when any of the young folks called I was as much at home sitting on an ox yoke as if I were sitting in an easy chair in a parlor. Such is life on the plains.”

I used to be guilty of judging by appearance back in the days when I could see, before I lost my sight because of diabetes. I remember in particular my girls’ glee club teacher in junior high school. She was about as plain as a person could be, with limp hair and a pock-marked complexion. She wore drab clothing, and even in conducting the choir she seemed to be a shy, backward person with about as much personality as a soda cracker. I am ashamed to admit that she was subject to many rude remarks and cruel jokes behind her back from us girls.
One day at the end of the school year, some friends of mine thought it would be funny to leave an anonymous note on her desk telling her what we really thought of her. I was elected to do the dirty work. But as I went into the empty room to leave the note, I couldn’t do it. Instead, overcome by what I now suspect was the Spirit, I quickly wrote a note thanking her for her efforts in leading the glee club and told her I had enjoyed singing.
As I was leaving the note on her desk, she entered the room. I was frozen to the spot as she walked to the desk, picked up the note, and read it. As I watched, I was astonished to see tears come to her eyes and flood down her cheeks. She clutched the note to her heart and in her mild way said, “Thank you.”
As I looked into her eyes at that moment, I believe I saw her clearly for the first time. I felt like I saw straight into her soul and sensed at once her loneliness, her pain, and her gentle goodness. At that moment, I loved her with a love that was far more powerful than anything I had ever felt for my favorite teachers. The Lord permitted me to see her heart as he sees it.

Years ago, President Howard W. Hunter, Sister Faust, and I visited with some BYU students when the study abroad program in Jerusalem was housed in a kibbutz, an Israeli hostelry. On the door of two of the students was a notice that read, “If cleanliness is next to godliness, welcome to purgatory!”

President Hinckley tells of a time he learned about having the courage to make his own decisions.
The year we enrolled in junior high school, the building could not accommodate all the students, and so our class was sent back to the elementary school. We were furious. We’d spent six years in that building, and we felt we deserved something better. The boys of the class all met after school. We decided we’d go on strike.
The next day we did not show up. But we had no place to go. We couldn’t stay home, because our mothers would ask questions. We didn’t think of going downtown to a show. We had no money for that. We didn’t think of going to the park. We were afraid we might be seen. We just wandered about and wasted the day.
The next morning, the principal, Mr. Stearns, was at the front door of the school to greet us. He told us that we could not come back to school until we brought a note from our parents. Striking, he said, was not the way to settle a problem. If we had a complaint, we could come to the principal’s office and discuss it.
I remember walking sheepishly into the house. My mother asked what was wrong. I told her. She wrote a note. It was very brief. It was the most stinging rebuke she ever gave me. It read:
“Dear Mr. Stearns,
“Please excuse Gordon’s absence yesterday. His action was simply an impulse to follow the crowd.”
I have never forgotten my mother’s note. I resolved then and there that I would never do anything on the basis of simply following the crowd. I determined then and there that I would make my own decisions on the basis of my standards and not be pushed in one direction or another by those around me. That decision has blessed my life many times.

“Before I found the Church, I felt that all was hopeless, that there was no point in trying to succeed or work for a future,” says Alexandra. “Everywhere there was war, and it seemed that the world would end in catastrophe. Becoming a member of the Church has given me a rest from that sorrow.”
Alexandra has found a scripture that seems to apply directly to her, and it has become her favorite:
“And it shall come to pass in that day that the Lord shall give thee rest, from thy sorrow, and from thy fear, and from the hard bondage wherein thou wast made to serve” (2 Ne. 24:3).