Gospel Story Finder

Upstairs, Mama hesitated a moment before going into the bedroom. “Emily,” she asked, “are you awake?”
“Come in, Mama,” a husky voice answered.
“How do you feel, dear?”
“Better, thanks, Mama.”
“Want me to plump up your pillows and raise the shade a little?” Emily nodded.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Mama wondered how to begin. She fussed with a thread on the coverlet a moment, then she started. “Emily, you remember last fall when your papa’s saddle horse Jake turned up missing?”
“Yes, Mama, and I remember how bad Papa felt when he found him dead and the mountain lion tracks all around where they had struggled. It was awful.”
“That’s right, honey, it was awful and we all felt bad, knowing how much your papa loved that old horse. But somehow we get over those hurts. Memories are softened in time, and we can more clearly see why things happen the way they do. Our hatred for the big cat gradually changed to an understanding that he was only acting out of instinct and that he must have been very hungry to attack an animal as large as a horse.
“Emily, I’m telling you this to help you bear some more hurt. And I’m sorry to have to tell you when you’ve been so sick, but there’s never a good time to hear some things.”

What marvelous things happen when men and women walk with faith in obedience to that which is required of them! I recall reading the story of Commander William Robert Anderson, the naval officer who took the submarine Nautilus beneath the polar ice from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean, a daring and dangerous feat. It recounted a number of other exploits of similar danger and concluded with a statement that the commander carried in his wallet a tattered card that had on it these words: “I believe God will always make a way where there is no way.”

A power question takes the thrust of the other person’s question, turns it around, and aims it back at the interrogator. Vicky’s response did just that. Here is another example: Ted, a priest and Explorer, was chatting with a nonmember student at school. The name of a mutual friend came up and the nonmember said amusingly, “Yeah, I know him. He’s a Jack Mormon, right?” Ted cooly shot back: “Exactly how would you define a Jack Mormon? Every definition of that term I have heard so far has been a shot in the dark!” The power question got Ted off the defensive.

One year our local school could not find enough volunteers to hold an elaborate holiday carnival. When the event had to be canceled, parents planned small, manageable parties instead.

Through the years, Aryn has been there as her father has had many priesthood blessings. He says the counsel given in blessings helps him keep a positive attitude. “The priesthood blessings I have received and reading the scriptures help me keep the faith. I have also learned that when people want to help you, let them. At first I didn’t want others’ help, but then I discovered that it makes a difference to me, and it’s good for them too. We all benefit.”

Another young man once counseled with me about becoming a concert pianist. He planned to study with a world-renowned teacher. I knew he possessed superior talent because he had brilliantly accompanied an oratorio choir that I directed. He pursued his studies and has reached the top of his profession. His name is Grant Johannesen.

I’m a member of the ASL (American Sign Language) seminary council in the USA. We have 10 youth members across the country who represent deaf youth and help plan activities. We have virtual seminary and institute classes with students who are deaf or fluent in ASL. I even posted a video on social media inviting other youth to come to our seminary class. I’m so grateful I can use my talent of signing to invite people to come closer to Jesus Christ.

One day, my teacher gave me and my best friend a social studies assignment. While we were working together, I noticed my friend taking the Lord’s name in vain. I knew Heavenly Father would want me to do something about this. I asked her to use nicer language. After that day, my friend didn’t use the Lord’s name in vain anymore. I am glad I chose the right and set a good example for my friend.

Awhile back, I got into very deep trouble with a guy. After reading the special issue I finally got up enough courage to go to my bishop and tell him my problem. Then I also went to the Lord for repentance. Then I felt so much better. I am almost a junior in high school. I am active in sports and love singing and dancing. I am a counselor in my Young Women class. Thank you so much for bringing out this wonderful magazine.

A friend of Mervyn B. Arnold joins the Church after being fellowshipped for 25 years.

“Hans, mein Sohn, was machst du da?”
“Vater, ich studiere.”
“Hans, mein Sohn, das kannst du nicht.”
“Vater, ich probiere.”
“Hans, my son, what are you doing?”
“Father, I’m studying.”
“Hans, my son, you can’t do that.”
“Father, I am trying.”
“That was one of the first readings that I learned in school. Because it included my first name, Hans, it was very meaningful to me then, and it still is. I’m still trying today.”

Thank you for sharing the coconut ice recipe (Jan. 2019). After we read “The Ice-Candy Mission Fund,” we made some of our own popsicles. They were delicious! We had a family popsicle night and will be making them again soon!
David and Nelson C., ages 3 and 1, Alberta, Canada

A few days after my father passed away, family and friends gathered for his funeral in Las Cruces, New Mexico. At my mother’s request, the grandchildren sang “Families Can Be Together Forever.”1 After the closing song and prayer, the grandsons escorted my father’s casket to a hearse outside the chapel.
As the hearse pulled away, one of my younger brother’s toddler grandsons called out, “Bye-bye.” We then traveled to the cemetery, where I dedicated the grave and the rest of us said, “Bye-bye.”
Afterward, I drove to my parents’ home. As I entered their cul-de-sac, I stopped for a moment. I thought about the many times over the previous 30 years I had pulled into their driveway, had dropped off our children to spend part of their summer vacation with Grandma and Grandpa, and had celebrated Christmas there.
As I relived memories, I was almost overcome by sadness. I realized that most of my grandchildren will never know the welcome sight of my parents’ home after an all-day drive. They will never smell the aroma of my mother’s cooking. They will never hear the laughter echoing from the walls of my parents’ home. They will never hike the nearby sand dunes with my parents, hunt crawdads with them, spend time in their mountain cabin, or attend their friendly ward.
For my grandchildren, my parents will be little more than fading names etched on gravestones. We still have my mother, but after she passes away, my grandchildren will probably never travel to southern New Mexico.
I’m thankful that these sad thoughts soon left. Almost as quickly as they came, peaceful thoughts from the Holy Ghost replaced them.
I thought of the plan of salvation and of the great welding link that connects us to our ancestors and our posterity. I thought of the blessings of family history and temple work. I thought of my responsibility to preserve memories and photos and stories. I remembered that the family I have here on earth, I can also have in heaven. And I thought of who makes that possible.

When we arrived at Point Lake, it was covered with ice floes. Shifting ice floes in a bad wind would crash a small canoe like an egg shell. We made camp, and I asked Bob to pray that night. He exhibited a faith rarely seen. He said, simply, “Father, stop the wind.”
The next day when we got up, it was perfectly still. The lake was smooth as a mirror. But we had 32 kilometers to cross. Even the slightest breeze once we were on the lake and we would be destroyed. For 32 kilometers we pushed through the floes. Twice the canoe froze in the ice as we got hemmed in, and we had to jump and pry and push to work our way free. Finally, after 7 1/2 hours, we got into open waters. We had just gotten through the ice floes when the wind began to blow again. The wind had been a daily companion except for those 7 1/2 hours. We prayed again, this time a prayer of thanks.

Little did we know that the construction of classrooms through Christ-centered humanitarian projects would create rooms for Christ in the hearts of many children using these classrooms to educate their minds. During a thanksgiving dinner organized by one of the municipal directors in the Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, an opinion leader made a surprise invitation to the Church. She said, “The Church has done a wonderful job in construction and renovations of the classrooms and toilets in our municipality. We now invite you to come and help us in fighting the degradation of moral values among the younger generation which is now an emerging issue.”
Moral values teach us good virtues, including honesty, truthfulness, kindness, integrity, helpfulness, compassion, love, respect for others, hard work, cooperation, and forgiveness. Our leaders are fully aware that the youth are the future, and that they are the driving force of every nation. With such prophetic understanding, one of the four priorities for the Africa Central Area is strengthening faith for the rising generation. So, when this invitation came to the Church, local leaders were very proactive and immediately took action with the emphasis placed on studying the doctrines of the gospel.
They immediately organized some materials through the Church Education System program and teachers, are now teaching religion classes in these public schools. It is amazing to see that more than 80 percent of those attending these religion classes are not of our faith. As the word has spread regarding these religion classes more heads of these public schools are making invitations to the Church to also consider organizing similar classes in their schools. It is evident that as they study the scriptures and learn about Jesus Christ and His atoning sacrifice, they will have a desire to create rooms in their hearts so that the Spirit of the Lord can dwell with them.

Joshua’s mommy was sick. She couldn’t get up to work in her garden or do anything fun.
“I want to help Mommy,” Joshua said.
“Why don’t you pray about how you can help her?” Daddy asked.
Joshua knelt down by his bed. “Heavenly Father, please help me find a way to help Mommy feel better.” He stayed on his knees until he thought of what to do.
He got a piece of paper and some crayons and drew a picture of Mommy’s flower garden.
Joshua made sure Mommy wasn’t sleeping before he went in her room. “I made this picture for you,” he said. “Now you can look at your flowers without getting up.”
“It’s beautiful,” Mommy said. “Thank you.”
Joshua kissed Mommy’s cheek. He was glad he had done something to help her feel better.

For gymnast Kim McCauley, a 14-year-old from the Rockwall Ward, “someday” began when she was a toddler. She was walking at six months, running at eight months, and by the time she hit three, her parents decided they’d better find a way to channel her energy, or they’d be exhausted in the chase. They enrolled her in gymnastics classes, and today, she not only is a top competitor on her high school team, but she also uses her talent in her spare time to teach gymnastics classes for small children.

The creation of a family history often begins with family members learning about ancestors. This process was true for Colleen Shupe. Her family held a special family home evening in which they learned about the conversion of their great-great-great-grandfather. He received the gospel message from one of the Church’s outstanding missionaries, Parley P. Pratt, and when he moved his family to Illinois, Colleen’s great-great-great-grandfather became a bodyguard to the Prophet Joseph Smith. This family story makes Colleen feel a special closeness to the early Church leaders, and she realizes that “my family are members of the Church now because we came from that line.”

However, as a young teenager, I began to question whether I would be allowed to serve a mission. World War II had kept my father from serving as a missionary, which he had badly wanted to do. In my case, the Vietnam War was raging; only two young men from each ward in the United States were given exemptions from military duty to serve missions. The rest had to hope for high draft lottery numbers in order to serve missions. I worried and wondered if I would actually be able to fulfill my childhood dream.
A few years before I was old enough to serve a mission, I attended a stake conference in which Elder Thomas S. Monson was the visiting General Authority. After one session, my mother and I went to meet him. I shook his hand, and we talked. I don’t remember any of the conversation except for one sentence. He looked right into my eyes and said, “You will be going on a mission.” I never worried after that; all my doubts were removed.

He helps his classmates with more than just their schoolwork. “He’s very tenderhearted and compassionate,” Mom says. When he was four years old, his friend’s father died, and Chris worried about his friend and asked, “What is he going to do for fathers-and-sons things?” Every year since then, he’s invited his friend to come along with him and Dad to fathers-and-sons activities.