Gospel Story Finder

It seemed like any other basketball game as I coached the Young Women’s team of our ward in the Lakewood Colorado Stake. Little did I know I was about to witness a powerful example of Christlike love on the court.
On the opposing team was a young woman named Nicole. Nicole is well known by the girls in the stake. She is a very loving and caring person. She also has Down’s syndrome.
On our team was a very competitive athlete named Kayla. Kayla excels in sports in high school. She also has a tremendous love and knowledge of the scriptures and is rarely seen without them.
During the second half of the game, I witnessed an event that made a powerful impact on everyone attending. Nicole received a pass from her teammate. She took a shot at the basket and missed. Kayla, who was not on Nicole’s team, rebounded and passed the ball back to Nicole. Nicole again shot and missed.
All of the other players stood still as Kayla continued to rebound Nicole’s missed shots and return the ball to Nicole. Finally, after the ninth try, Nicole made a basket. Everyone rose to their feet, and the whole gym erupted in cheers, hugs, and high fives. Nicole grinned ear to ear.
Much more important than the score that night was watching someone help another to succeed. That night Kayla truly demonstrated how “to stand as [a witness] of God, at all times and in all things, and in all places” (Mosiah 18:9).

The other night when I announced to my family that I was taking my adorable wife to see a certain GP (rated general admittance with parental guidance) movie, my thirteen-year-old daughter firmly stated, “Oh, Daddy, I don’t think you’d better take Mother to that show. It has some bad things you shouldn’t see.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Because I’ve seen it, of course, and I just don’t think it’s the kind of show you ought to go to.”
“When did you see it?” I thundered.
Well, it seems that a neighbor had taken her daughter and mine to the GP-rated show.
After my family had given me my allotted time for stern words on the subject of permissive neighbors (my own children think I’m a strict neanderthal), my wife sweetly pointed out that I ought to be grateful that a thirteen-year-old girl would be concerned enough to warn me about a movie she’s seen that isn’t fit for her forty-eight-year-old father and his ageless wife.
That really set me off. If children are going to be that strict with their parents, how will we ever learn about life? Fortunately, in this age of tyrannical youth, my children still permit me to discuss such matters at family night, so the following Monday after our regular discussion I conducted a survey to find out just what my children think about today’s movies.
Meantime, in spite of occasional frustrations, I’m glad to have in this permissive age a strict thirteen-year-old daughter to regulate my own movie going. Other parents should be so lucky!

Before I had bone cancer, I was quite impatient. When I came home from the hospital, I suddenly needed a lot of patience. I had been right-handed, and now I had to learn to do everything left-handed.
One Sunday morning when I was in my bedroom with my tie in my hand, I thought, How am I going to tie this? I thought about getting a clip-on tie. I thought about asking Mom to help me. But I couldn’t take her with me on my mission just to tie my ties. So I decided I had to learn how to do it myself. I finally figured it out by using my teeth. I still do it that way, even after having tied it thousands of times. I have learned that with a positive attitude and the Lord’s help, I can do what I have to do.

1 Over the mountains and through the desert to Grandmother’s house we go!
2 Abuelita (Grandmother)!
3 The day after Thanksgiving
Why haven’t you gone into town with your brothers and sisters and cousins?
Because I love you, and I don’t get to see you very often.
4 You’re a good boy, Ramón, and you’ll be a good man. I wish your grandfather could have known you.
I wish I could have known him, too, Abuelita. I’m trying to be good so I can be with him someday. I don’t always make it, though.
5 Neither do I, querido (dear), and he didn’t either. But he always tried to do his very best, and he always repented of his sins. If we do the same, I think we’ll be fine.
6 Now, can you find room for another piece of my candy?
I’ll do my very best.

When I was getting married, I felt anxious. My family still chuckles at how I tapped my fingers on my knee (a nervous tick of mine) as the temple sealer spoke to us. I wasn’t afraid to marry my husband—I loved him! But I was worried about the future because I was making such an important covenant. I silently prayed when I entered the temple to know what I could do to keep our marriage strong in a world that was growing increasingly turbulent.
A few moments later, the temple sealer told my husband and me to remember that every ordinance in the temple points us to Jesus Christ. The Spirit helped me recognize this message as an answer from Heavenly Father, and the temple sealer’s words deepened my testimony that as my husband and I consistently turned to the Savior, especially through temple work, we could strengthen our marriage through eternity.
This experience reminded me that Heavenly Father cares about the questions in our hearts and can provide comforting wisdom to us in the temple in personal ways. As President Ezra Taft Benson (1899–1994) taught: “When I have been weighed down by a problem or a difficulty, I have gone to the House of the Lord with a prayer in my heart for answers. These answers have come in clear and unmistakable ways.”3

I shut the little black book. A feeling of success surged within me. I actually had finished it. I had read the whole book. Now what was supposed to happen? I recalled the words that were written in one of the book’s last chapters. “And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost” (Moro. 10:4).
Okay. I knew that I was supposed to feel a burning in the bosom or an overwhelming knowledge of truth. At least that’s what other members of the Church said in their testimonies. They all felt it when they knew that the Church was true. They were sincere. So why wasn’t I feeling anything? Why wasn’t God appearing to me? How will I know if it’s true? How will I know if it’s not? How did they know?
I looked at the little black book. It was torn and tattered, the once-white pages now a stale yellow. The black leather cover bore ugly creases running up and down the length of it. The binding hung limply by the little glue that was left. I opened the cover and read the inscription. “To Michelle Glenetske, from Mom with love.”
When my mom first gave me this copy of the Book of Mormon, I treated it as a souvenir from her visit to Utah. I was too young then to really understand what it meant. Little did I know the true meaning behind those hard-to-read words. Little did I know the faith and courage it had taken the authors to record their day-to-day lives, their revelations, and their spiritual knowledge, even during times of pain and suffering. At that time I did not see, or care to see, the value of this little black book.
During early-morning seminary my freshman year, we read the Book of Mormon together as a class. We had read most of it, and now I had finished all of it—on my own. I did it without my parents or Church leaders pushing me. I did it to fulfill that unknown prompting that wandered within my soul. It was a quest for knowledge and understanding—and now I had finished the race. So where was my reward? Why wasn’t I feeling the way the Church leaders said I should? Was it really not true? I didn’t think I could bear the thought of the one thing that I based my life around not being true. I had to know.
I stepped into the warm spring air and wandered slowly to the big oak tree behind the shed. There I sat on the mossy earth, looking at the cloudless, blue sky. I silently put my little black book next to me and stared blankly into the large branches of the beautiful tree. I saw and felt nothing. I heard nothing except for the unceasing pounding against my chest. I began to pray in my mind. Is it true? I asked.
A few minutes later, a loud chirp broke me out of my reverie. I shook my head and then looked up. I saw a faint rustle among the leaves. But I heard a chirp of a mother robin, and soon heard many delicate cheeps. A feeling of total peace overcame me. “God made all these wonderful things for us,” I said in a whisper. “All things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small.” I remembered the song I was taught in Primary. “All things wise and wonderful, The Lord God, made them all” (Children’s Songbook, no. 231). Tears formed in my eyes, threatening to spill at any moment.
I was finally realizing what God had done for me. I began to understand who I was. But more significantly, the knowledge of what I had been searching for had finally come. I wasn’t sure how it had. All I knew is I had experienced a feeling of peace that I had never felt before. I knew.

Later that year, at the open house for the Hamilton New Zealand Temple, I felt anxious and nervous. I said to my husband, “I think Kamau’s waiting for me inside the temple. I think he’ll be there with me.”
Inside the temple, the only room I really wanted to see was the celestial room. While waiting to enter, our tour guide said to our group, “I’m really sorry, but we’re not going to have much time in the celestial room. But I can promise you, brothers and sisters, that although your time will be brief, the blessings you will receive will be enough to last you for the eternities. And most importantly you will feel the love of our Saviour Jesus Christ.”
As we were about to walk in, my daughter, Indie-Rose, held my hand and said to me excitedly, “Mum, is this the special room you were telling me about?”
I answered, “Yes, it is.”
She then asked me, “Is this what it’s going to be like when we see Kamau?”
I replied “Yes, it’ll be as if we walked around the corner and there he is.”
Tears streamed down my face as the promise our tour guide spoke earlier was fulfilled. I could feel the pure love of our Saviour Jesus Christ comfort me. I felt that the words our tour guide spoke were in fact an intended message for me from my Heavenly Father, saying to me that although my time with my son was brief, the blessings and the love that I have for him will be enough to last me till the eternities.
In every room of the temple—every picture and every detail—I could feel the spirit of my beautiful son Kamau. It was confirmation to me that I need to be in the temple. Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ were reminding me of the heavenly comfort and divine healing I can receive within its walls because of the enabling power of the Atonement of our Saviour, Jesus Christ.
Never has the temple been more important in my life than it is now.

At a time when the family and the necessity of family life are increasingly in question and under attack, 35 young members of the Northwest First Ward, Wilmette Illinois Stake, have found a way to speak out strongly in favor of them. For their annual service project, the youth of the ward decided to present a pro-family program, which eventually evolved into a series of nine performances throughout the Chicago area.
Everyone in the ward between the ages of 12 and 18 was invited to participate. The young people wrote skits and musical presentations based on their own experiences in family life and their personal belief that it’s worth the effort. Some of the topics treated were: why parents don’t see their children’s point of view while children don’t see the parents’; the story of a boy from a broken home who finally finds his father and is told, “I never visited you because I didn’t want to see you,” and how he copes with such rejection; the feelings of a young man who wonders why his father never comes to see his wrestling matches, and what happens when he finally does; the triumph of a young woman who (in song) shows her father how much she loves him.
Some of the reactions: One of the young men in the cast was so affected by the program that he decided to accept a mission call. One young lady in the audience was so touched she started taking the missionary discussions and has since been baptized. A sociology teacher who saw the program at his high school changed his mind about never having a family. An Indonesian exchange student came up after the performance and said she appreciated her family much more after having seen the show. At an old folks’ home, one of the men stood up and said, “I’m Catholic; most of us here are Presbyterian or Lutheran; but these kids have just made us all saints.” The program was endorsed for presentation to sociology classes at local high schools, and the young people have been offered the chance to perform at many college campuses.
All of the cast members wore T-shirts with the inscription “Family Harmony.” Banners with the word Love were attached to curtains. Cast members divided into groups of various sizes, carrying numbers to emphasize that families come in a variety of sizes and combinations. A “harmonizer” box sounded an alarm when a situation demanding attention and understanding presented itself on stage. At the end of each hour-long performance, cast members took turns being interviewed by the audience about their feelings concerning the family and about their involvement in the show. “People were surprised,” one participant said, “to find out we were doing it all for free.”
The youth goals in originating the program were “to help the community as a whole with one large service project instead of a lot of little ones, and to find a new way to serve.” If service can be defined as arousing someone’s conscience, this was a service project that worked.

When Sierra P., 17, moved to an area where few members of the Church live, her new friends wanted to know about her beliefs. This scenario isn’t new, and sometimes we may wonder how we can share the gospel with our friends without being overbearing. During a recent conversation with the New Era, youth in Arkansas shared what they have learned.
Sierra discovered that she could best answer questions when she asked her friends about their beliefs first and then focused on similarities and differences. “We studied a little about the Church in U.S. history, and that made everyone curious, so they came to me with their questions,” she says. “I had an opportunity to explain the entire plan of salvation to my volleyball team. Some of them realized that we have a lot of faith and are good people.”

Early in our marriage, we lived in Oklahoma where I was called to be the Elder's Quorum president. It was a ward spread over a large area and included many of the Lord’s sheep that needed rescued.

My counselor and I went out one evening to find the Davis family, a family unknown to anyone in the ward. We drove to the address listed in the Church records and knocked on the door. The man who answered the door said he had lived in that house for many years and that he did not know Lamar Davis. As we drove away from the house and rounded the bend on the street, the thought came to me that it was possible that some of the numbers in the address had been reversed. I mentioned this to my counselor. There were four numbers in the address, and we switched the middle two. When we looked up, the house we were sitting in front of was that house number. We looked at each other and knew we had to knock on that door. We did so, and this time, Lamar Davis answered the door. He invited us in, and over the next few months, the Davis family was taught the gospel, and Brother Davis was able to baptize his two children. The Lord's hand had reached out to one of His lost sheep.

But the story doesn't end there. The Davises became good friends and often would babysit our young son Skyler. Linda was nearing the delivery date of our second son, and it was our wedding anniversary. Our anniversary dinner was cut short when we had to rush to the hospital for our second son’s birth. The Davises lived close by, so on our way to the hospital, we dropped Skyler off at their home. They kept Skyler through the night, and we never worried about him for a minute. Now their hands had become the Lord's hands in our time of need, and they had reached out and served us.

There is a story about a little girl whose father worked digging wells. Every day the little girl took a sack lunch to her father. Looking down into the dark hole, she couldn’t see her father working at the bottom, but he could see her standing in the light. Every day, she called out to her father. He told her to drop the sack down to him, and he would catch it. One day, her father said, “Why don’t you come down and join me for lunch today? If you’ll just jump into the hole, I’ll catch you.”

“But, Daddy, I can’t see you.”

“I can see you, and I will catch you.”

Trusting, the little girl jumped. Her father caught her, and they enjoyed their lunch together.

After I quit drugs, I turned to alcohol. I can honestly say I was a high school alcoholic. When I decided I wanted to quit, I couldn’t—at least not by myself. I didn’t care enough about myself to do what I knew I needed to do.
Then I became close friends with a good, active Latter-day Saint girl. She couldn’t understand what I was experiencing, but she did know I was honestly trying to get out of the mess I was in. It hurt her when I slipped back into my bad habits. I finally quit drinking because I knew it hurt her, and I knew I couldn’t lie to her.
Keeping my morals straight was so hard under my weakened condition that I avoided any social contacts with girls except with ones as good as my Latter-day Saint friend.

We can plan for and mitigate the risk arising from a world that becomes more and more distracting and noisy. Let me illustrate with an experience I had many years ago.
I was flying an airplane from my home in Kalispell, Montana, to Las Vegas, Nevada, to pick up my father-in-law for a business trip. The airplane I was flying was very sophisticated, and my co-pilot was very experienced. Together, we had more than 60 years in the cockpits of different aircraft. We checked the weather, filed a flight plan, and made other preparations for the flight.
The weather in Kalispell was a beautiful, clear night, and we were prepared to leave just as the skies darkened in the cool of the spring evening. I was excited. I was flying a fabulous airplane, I had a co-pilot who was a dear friend, we had great weather, and there was the prospect of another business venture with my father-in-law. We had made a flight plan with numerous waypoints along the route.
After flying for about an hour and a half, air traffic control gave us descent instructions into the Las Vegas area. We descended into a storm that we had been comfortably flying over for some time. Suddenly, the static electricity from the storm overwhelmed the radios, and we could no longer speak to the controllers on the ground. We were flying into some of the busiest airspace in the world, with no ability to see anything outside the aircraft and no ability to speak to the controllers on the ground, whose job was to keep the aircraft separated.
Neither of us had ever experienced anything like this storm. However, we knew exactly what to do. The Federal Aviation Administration (governing body of all flights in the US) has a rule. If a pilot loses communications with the ground, he should fly “last clearance then flight plan route,” which means you do what the controller last told you and then keep to the plan you have made.
Soon, we flew out of the storm. When we finally connected with air traffic control, they told us, “We could hear you. You just couldn’t hear us.” We could not hear because the static had overwhelmed our radios, but by keeping with our plan, we were able to stay safe.

Another time when I was feeling aimless was during my final year of university. Life was tough. It was during the pandemic, so I was depressed while I was stuck at home finishing classes. There was such a lack of direction and connection in my life.
I even struggled with church at this time. I often had to make myself roll out of bed in my pajamas to listen to sacrament meeting online because that’s all the motivation I could muster.
During this dark period, I reached out to my family and friends and explained to them how aimless and depressed I felt. I didn’t feel like I had any hope for the future and didn’t know how things were going to work out. And that’s when they told me that they were praying for me and supporting me even though they were far away.
As I reached out to loved ones who have deep faith and as I prayed to Heavenly Father with just an inkling of spiritual motivation, I felt sustaining support and love.

A father gets home tired after a long day at work and finds the rest of his family struggling with similar grumpy feelings. It’s Monday night, and holding family home evening seems impossible. After saying a prayer for help, the father and mother decide to keep things simple. They call their family together, sing a hymn, and pray together. They give each member a small candle to light as they tell about something that inspired them recently. In a darkened room, the light of the candles represents inspiration and focuses the children’s attention. As testimonies are shared, a feeling of sweet peace and love enters the home. The family ends the night grateful they held home evening.

For the last few years, I knew that God was prompting me to step away from social media. I knew that breaks from social media were great for me, but I also knew that I enjoyed the community that I found there. I didn’t know how to reconcile these two things; I just knew that something had to change.
I read a book that caused me to ponder the question, “How much time on social media is the right amount to provide the benefit of the community, without all the negative influences?” For me, the answer to this question was about 20 minutes … a month. I set a goal to make this happen, and with the help of the Lord, it was easier than I thought. The thing I didn’t expect was how much this change would strengthen my relationship with my Savior. I came to better feel the love that the Savior has for me; I have come to understand more clearly the plan He has for me; and I have come to see the needs of the people around me more clearly.
I have always known that I am a child of God and that He loves me. I have felt the love of my Savior during difficult times in my life. But too often I was letting social media dictate how I saw and thought of myself. As much as I tried to convince myself that the idealistic images on social media didn’t affect me, it turns out they did. Decreasing my time on social media allowed me the mental peace and quiet that I needed to hear the Savior telling me how He felt about me. I didn’t realize how much I had missed hearing His voice until I created more space for Him to be there.
I have always believed in the plan of salvation. I know that Jesus Christ is central to that plan. But I also believe that Heavenly Father has a plan for each of us individually. Larry M. Gibson, former First Counselor in the Young Men General Presidency, taught, “I know that Heavenly Father is concerned about each of us individually and has a personal plan for us to achieve our eternal destiny.”1
I spent a lot of time scrolling to try and figure out what my purpose was. Being on social media gave me a front row seat to all the creative, wonderful things people were doing. I learned a lot from these people, but I spent a lot more time seeking than doing. Since stepping away from social media, I have felt guided to know specifically what Heavenly Father would have me do. Many of these things have been surprising and different from what I thought they would be, but they have made my life richer and more abundant.
The Savior came so that we might have life and that we might have it more abundantly (see John 10:10). I’m grateful for the nudges that the Holy Ghost gives to us to help us have a more abundant life.
The Savior saw those who escaped others’ notice. I love reading stories about Him ministering to such people and teaching them their worth. Spending too much time on social media hindered me from really seeing people in my own life, including my family. I realized that if my children weren’t feeling seen by me, then they would soon be looking to outside sources to validate their worth.
I have been amazed at the love that I have for my children as I have been more present with them. I have loved my role as a mother more this last year than ever before. I have gotten to know neighbors and have been more active in my community. My opportunities for service have increased. I thought that social media was helping me to be more aware, but in reality I wasn’t living in the moment enough to really see the needs of those around me.
Decreasing my social media use seemed like a small and simple thing, but it has allowed me to greatly increase my faith and improve my relationship with my Savior. I know that Heavenly Father loves us, has a plan for us, and has children who need to feel seen by us too.
The author lives in New York, USA.

After graduation Franklin received an appointment to the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland. He wondered if he accepted the appointment if he would ever serve a full-time mission. It was a difficult decision to make. Elder Richards said, “I think unknowingly I was following the advice of the Lord to Oliver Cowdery:
“‘Behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right’ [D&C 9:8].
“In effect, I was doing that, I thought about a mission and about my grandfather, and I wondered, Do I want to go to Annapolis and tie myself up or don’t I? So I studied it out, talked to several people, and reached the decision that I would prefer to go on a mission. I made it a matter of prayer, expressing my feelings to the Lord, and the Holy Ghost bore witness to me that my decision was right.”

I remember on one occasion a frustrated and angry ward member speaking quite sharply and unkindly to a bishop, criticizing his leadership. As I listened I found my anger rising, feeling this criticism was unfair and inappropriate, for I had such great respect for this bishop and knew of his great sacrifices and able leadership. After the ward member concluded his comments, I was ready to provide a strong defense for the bishop and tell the ward member how I felt about his behavior.

But before I could speak, this great bishop, with his eyes moist from the stinging rebuke, replied with such genuine love to the member. “Thank you for sharing your comments,” he said. “I know that I have shortcomings, and you have shown me where I can improve. I commit to do better. Now, what can I do to make things better for you?”

A spirit came into that room and a change came over the ward member—a visible softening—and he apologized. The bishop then expressed his genuine love for this man and the meeting came to a close. I remained in the room until the ward member had left and I was alone with the bishop. I couldn’t speak; I was so moved by what I had just witnessed. It was charity, pure and sweet.

The bishop looked over at me, and he could tell that I was emotional. He asked if I was all right.

I couldn’t answer for a moment. I then told him that I had just witnessed one of the most beautiful, Christlike experiences of my life and thanked him for it.

For Cathy Antonsson of Helsingborig, Sweden, saying no was not always easy or pleasant.
“It was rough. It’s not easy, but you have to pay the price for who you are. Sometimes I cried my eyes out because I had to stay home. It was difficult because many people here just aren’t religious.
“I went to Rome for two weeks on a school trip. In Italy, they always offered us wine. They have wine with most of their meals, so my friends kept offering me wine, and I kept saying, ‘No, I don’t drink that.’
“My friends spent so much money on drinks. Everytime we went out, I would put the same amount of money in my purse that they spent on their drinks. Before we left, I went to an exclusive dress shop and bought a very expensive designer dress. All my friends were really surprised when they saw it and said, ‘Hey, how could you afford that?’ I told them what I had done and that that was one of the advantages of not drinking.”

A few years ago, my friend’s two-year-old daughter climbed unnoticed into their small ­wading pool, lost her balance, and silently drowned. I do not need to tell you—I cannot tell you, it is impossible for me to tell you—the grief and shock and anguish that family experienced at the passing of their little girl. If there be no Christ, they never recover from it. Their little girl stays dead. There is no Resurrection, no hope for a reunion.

But there is a Christ, there is a Resurrection, and there will be a sweet reunion. That little girl lives on. She continues to be an influence on her family, and not merely through memories. If you were to see that family today, you would marvel at how “the sting of death is swallowed up in [Jesus] Christ.”30