Gospel Story Finder

Kim relates the time she ran for a student-body office and got up to make her much anticipated campaign speech. She wasn’t too nervous about it, since she was used to speaking in church. But that proved to be her undoing. After elaborating on how she could help the school, she closed her speech, “in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.” It brought down the house.
Kim says it really helped to acknowledge the mistake instead of ignoring it. Everybody was laughing about it anyway, so she decided she would rather laugh with them than hide out. It made everyone much more comfortable, and even though she didn’t win the election, she was included in conversations instead of being whispered about.

“One time we built a zoo for our town. We used our stuffed animals.”
“Just like that,” Mommy said. “People could come see the zoo.”

“If you want to share the gospel in a meaningful way, the approach is really important,” said Tara, who investigated and joined the Church while she was in junior high. “If my friends had told me, ‘Ours is the only true church. Yours is wrong, and you’re going to go to hell if you don’t get baptized,’ I would have been totally turned off. Instead, they invited me to some of the activities. When I went, I felt this great, warm love, like Heavenly Father was trying to reach out to me—trying to tell me something. I felt it when I was with those friends too, and I wanted to find out why they were like that.”

1 I’m not sure caroling is such a good idea. We’re not the greatest singers.
Yeah, what if we hit a sour note and hurt somebody’s eardrums?
2 Who’s listening for sour notes? Every voice is an angel’s voice at Christmastime.
3 “Hark! the herald angels sing
Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled!”
4 “Away in a manger, no crib for his bed,
The little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head;
The stars in the heavens looked down where he lay,
The little Lord Jesus, asleep on the hay.”
5 Please come inside and have some refreshments.
6 You sang like angels!

Clarence stared out the car window as the harbor came into view. Boats floated in the water in front of colorful houses and shops. Copenhagen, Denmark, was a beautiful city filled with palaces, mansions, and parks. It was not at all like Clarence’s hometown in Utah, USA. Clarence could picture the dusty streets where he ran races as a boy. Now he was a member of the United States track team, and tomorrow he would be facing a famous Danish runner in an important race.
The car stopped at a small chapel where a Church meeting had already started.
As Clarence slipped into the back of the meeting, one of the missionaries sitting on the stand recognized him from a news article about tomorrow’s race. The branch president asked Clarence to come up and speak.
After Clarence told why he was visiting, a boy stood up and raised his hand. “Do you think you can beat the Danish champion?” he asked.
Clarence wasn’t sure what to say. The Danish runner did have a better time in the mile that season.
“Of course he can,” said one of the missionaries before Clarence could answer. “Because he lives the Word of Wisdom.” He opened his scriptures to Doctrine and Covenants 89. He read the promise that those who keep the Word of Wisdom “shall run and not be weary, and shall walk and not faint” (verse 20).
Clarence saw a long row of boys looking up at him. What could he say? As a child he had promised to always keep the Word of Wisdom. But that alone didn’t mean he could win this race. Winning also required practice and skill. As Clarence left the meeting, he thought, Well, no one from church will be at the race tomorrow anyway.
The next evening as Clarence was warming up for his race, he looked up and saw the two missionaries with a group of about 17 boys. They had come!
As they got closer, one of the missionaries whispered to Clarence, “If you’ve ever run fast in your life, you’d better run fast tonight.” Many of the boys weren’t members of the Church but had come with their friends to see if the Word of Wisdom was really true.
Clarence was worried. In this race, his best might not be good enough. But he was running for a principle of the gospel of Jesus Christ. He had to win. He had never prayed to win before, but he found an empty room to kneel and pray.
He prayed, “Father in Heaven, I know the Word of Wisdom is true, and I have never broken it. Please bless me with victory in this race.” As he walked out to the starting line, he knew Heavenly Father had heard his prayer. He trusted Heavenly Father’s will.
The evening was rainy and muddy. As Clarence began the race, it seemed just like many other mile races he had run. The pace was fast, and the Danish champion was ahead. But as Clarence finished the third lap, suddenly he was not tired anymore. He started running faster, and it didn’t hurt. Going even a little faster still didn’t hurt. He passed the Danish champion and still went faster.
As Clarence came around the turn, his coach yelled, “Slow down! You’ll never make the finish line!” But Clarence knew he could keep running. And when he finished the race, he was more than 50 yards (46 m) ahead of the Danish runner! He knew he had won because Heavenly Father had answered his prayer and because the Word of Wisdom is true.
Clarence F. Robison raced in the 1948 Summer Olympics and became a great college track coach. When he was young, he promised his mother he would always keep the Word of Wisdom. He knew this wouldn’t make him win all his races. But he knew that Heavenly Father could help him do his best when he was clean and worthy and faithful.

This story happened in the USA.
Ryan closed the last envelope and grinned. His birthday was almost here, and he couldn’t wait to invite his friends to his party! Mom had helped him make invitations with rocket ships and stars. He was sure it would be the best birthday ever.
The first friend Ryan wanted to invite was Chad. Chad was really nice, and Ryan always had fun with him. Sometimes Chad stumbled over his words, and he wasn’t very good at sports. But Ryan didn’t mind. Chad was good at other things. He liked to make tiny origami animals by folding paper. One time he made Ryan a little bear. Ryan kept it on the dresser in his room.
Ryan walked to Chad’s house and gave him an invitation. “It’s for my birthday party on Saturday,” he said. “I hope you can come!”
Chad smiled big. “Thank you. I’ll b-be there.”
Before Ryan left, Chad showed him his new origami. He had deer, chipmunks, squirrels, and owls—a whole forest of tiny paper animals. It was so cool!
Next, Ryan found Ty and Braden at Ty’s house. He gave them each an invitation.
“Who else is coming?” Ty asked.
“I’m inviting Alex, Matt, Jacob, and Chad.”
“Ugh,” Braden said. “Why are you inviting Chad? He’s weird.”
Ryan froze. “Because he’s my friend.”
“Well, he’s not our friend,” Ty said. “If Chad’s coming, I’m not.”
“Me neither,” Braden said.
Ryan walked back home. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted Ty and Braden to come to his party, but he also wanted Chad to come.
When he got home, he told Mom what happened.
“I’m sorry they feel that way,” Mom said. “It sounds like they haven’t given themselves a chance to get to know Chad. What do you think you should do?”
Ryan was quiet for a minute. Mom and Dad had taught him that when he needed help, the Holy Ghost could guide him. They said it was like a quiet voice you could feel in your heart.
Ryan said a silent prayer. Heavenly Father, what should I do?
When he thought about Ty and Braden, he felt nervous and a little sad. But when he thought about inviting Chad, he felt calm and happy. He knew the Holy Ghost was telling him that inviting Chad was a good choice.
On Saturday, Ryan helped Dad set up games to play in the backyard. Mom set out Ryan’s favorite snacks, popcorn and pretzels. One by one, Ryan’s friends arrived.
Ty and Braden didn’t come. But Ryan had lots of fun with his other friends. Chad even showed them how to make origami. They all went home with their own paper animal.
It really was the best birthday ever! Ryan felt happy and grateful.
Ryan gave Chad a high-five. “Thanks for coming!” he said. “I’m glad we’re friends.”
Chad smiled back. “Me too.”
How did the Holy Ghost help Ryan?
Illustrations by Colleen Madden

Or maybe we just skim over the top of any good experience that we’re offered rather than getting all that’s there. I will never forget a week I spent on a Greek island, Mykonos. I was in Athens, planning a trip to the island, when I met a woman from New York. “Oh, don’t go to Mykonos,” she said.
“It’s nothing—nothing! Just little shops. There’s no one there but all those foreigners. Don’t go to Mykonos!”
Well, I went to Mykonos. My diary entry on the last day there reads, “I am sitting on our terrace letting my hair dry. There are more clouds than usual in the sky, and I think it is because I must leave the island. Oh, how I do not want to go.”
Even now the memories of that week flood over me like the waves of the Aegean Sea:
Getting up at four to go out on a fishing boat and later eating what we had caught, visiting several of the 365 tiny, white churches that dot the island, going up to the top of a windmill and watching it grind the grain, chatting with the owner of the windmill as I stuck my hands under the stream of new flour, still warm from its recent friction, attending a wedding celebration with great crowds of people dancing the traditional Greek dances, exploring nearly uninhabited islands filled with archeological remains and empty tombs, walking alone along the shore at sunset, wading with the jellyfish, watching a native archeologist make a plaster cast of an ancient Aphrodite, riding on the burro of a young girl selling eel and live lobsters.
I came out of Mykonos filled, and my poor friend from New York came out without even a crumb.

By May 1887, it had become impossible to rent a hall for meetings, there being too much ill-feeling against the missionaries. However, with the season for outdoor preaching beginning, the missionaries were again preaching on the Custom House steps.

While in fourth grade, my son, Taylor, was one of 12 semifinalists in a spelling bee. In the semifinals, Taylor tied with another boy for a spot in the finals. The tiebreaker was a “spell-off” in which each student wrote a series of words, which was then checked by a judge. On the last word of the series, the judge ruled that the other boy had spelled the word incorrectly. Taylor was declared the winner and awarded the final spot in the evening competition.
The judges congratulated the winners and were handing out certificates when I saw Taylor’s hand go up. He informed a judge that he, too, had misspelled the last word. The judge had misread his handwriting.
The judges met and announced another spell-off. Taylor didn’t win this time. The principal and Taylor’s teacher saw me crying and thought it was because Taylor had lost. I quickly explained that I could not be more pleased with my son. He had chosen to be honest regardless of the cost. I am grateful that Taylor had the courage to be like Jesus Christ and choose the right.

Even though I wanted to serve a mission, I was still struggling to make the decision. I had a lot of personal desires that would have to be put on hold if I served. I was starting my freshman year at university, I was hesitant to leave important friendships behind, and I had always planned on joining the Tongan Armed Forces. My brother had also recently died by suicide, and the grief I felt made it hard to move forward.
I often wondered, “Is serving a mission really right for me?”
So, I took all my questions to general conference. During that conference, Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf stated, “When you earnestly seek the truth—eternal, unchanging truth—your choices become much clearer.”1
I felt the truth of that statement. Sometimes it can be difficult to trust that God will provide something better when we are so attached to our previous desires. But through fasting, prayer, and messages from general conference, I personally learned that when we trust God, we will often see that He is leading us to greater opportunities and blessings than we could have realized on our own (see Hebrews 11:40).
Despite my fears, God blessed me with the miracle of confidence to serve a mission.

Years later in York, whilst serving as a home teacher with his son, they were assigned to a less active family who would not let them into their home. On birthdays and at Christmas they would leave gifts and cards hoping for an opportunity to teach in their home. One day, as they went out to visit others, they felt prompted to try once more. As they knocked on the door, their son informed them that the family were all at the hospital where their daughter was giving birth. Quickly buying flowers and a card they headed to the hospital to offer any support or help they could give the family. Because of this they were able to minister to the family who gradually returned to activity.

As I sat in the motel room anticipating the next day’s state cross-country race, I kept wondering if I was talented at all as an athlete. I was struggling with all the difficult emotions a 16-year-old could have. I felt I was running worse than when I was a freshman. I felt ugly. The fact I’d never had a date or a boyfriend like all of my other friends compounded my feelings of insecurity. And I wanted so badly to feel accepted.
I had gone to bed early, and my teammates thought I was asleep. I heard them giggling, and then they nudged my shoulder and said, “Here, Jenny. Have some water.” I could distinctly smell that it was not water.
I was angry at my supposed “friends” for trying to play a trick on me. Did they think I was stupid? I was scared they might force the liquor down my throat. I wanted to run away to the security of my mother’s arms, yet that seemed so childish for a teenager who yearned for independence.
A thousand questions raced through my mind. By drinking the liquor, would I be part of the “in” crowd? Would the alcohol make me beautiful? Would it give me a boyfriend? Would I be able to run faster, or even win the race?
I knew all the answers to these questions, so I boldly said, “No, that’s not water and I’m not going to drink it.” I believe both of those girls beat me in the race the next day. However, I knew I had won a race in the Lord’s eyes because I had kept the Word of Wisdom.
The bus trip home seemed particularly long. I was anxious to return home to my family and tell my mother what happened. The next night at the dinner table Mom presented me with a gift. I didn’t recall ever receiving a present unless it was Christmas or my birthday. My five brothers and sisters watched me open it. They were all thankful for and proud of my decision.
Around that dinner table is where I felt talented, beautiful, and accepted—an acceptance that I may never find at school or on a cross-country team.

Then tell the following story from President Henry B. Eyring, First Counselor in the First Presidency:
President Eyring began a habit of looking back through each day for evidence of God’s hand in his family’s life. Then he’d write his observations in a journal.
“As I kept at it,” President Eyring says, “something began to happen. As I would cast my mind over the day, I would see evidence of what God had done for one of us that I had not recognized in the busy moments of the day.”2

Grant’s musical talent started to show when he was only five years old. Because his four older siblings would play the piano and sing all the time, he decided that he wanted to join in the fun. Although Grant was only in kindergarten and could not yet read music, he says, “I started playing the piano by ear and would pick out melodies on the piano.”
Michael, his brother, adds, “One thing Grant is good at is that he can listen to a difficult piece of music and be able to pick out all the parts on the piano.”

Babushka Baba Yaga In Russian fairy tales, Baba Yaga, a supernatural creature akin to elves and goblins and woodland fairies, was believed to be ugly and evil. Babushkas were thought of as kindly old grandmothers. In this legend, the people learn that they must not judge by appearances but by what they know in their hearts to be true.Patricia Polacco5–9 years

How Oliver Olson Changed the World, by Claudia Mills, pictures by Heather Maione. Sometimes Oliver thinks his parents help him too much. When he and his classmate, Crystal, get some big ideas about their solar-system project, can Oliver convince his parents—and himself—that he can accomplish great things on his own?

After we moved our things from the dugout, Ed said, “Now I get to sleep in the barn.”
“Me, too,” I said.
“Nothing doing,” Mama warned. “The barn’s for animals, not children.”
“Papa promised,” Ed told her.
“It’s all right, hon,” Papa told Mama. “The loft’s clean and warm and close enough so that we could hear them call if they needed us.”
“Well, it is pretty crowded in here,” Mama relented a little. “Just one room for the seven of us.”
“Please, mama,” Ed coaxed.
“Please,” I echoed.
“I guess it won’t hurt to try it,” she conceded, and we started out the door.
Frank grabbed my legs and shouted, “I wanna sleep with Dora! I wanna sleep with Dora!”
“Let him come, Mama. I’ll take care of him.” She knew I would too.
“Watch him, then, so he doesn’t fall down the ladder,” she cautioned.
“I don’t fall down ladders.” Frank said indignantly. “I climb down.”
So the three of us moved into the barn.

Both of my parents joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Kenya, and both served full-time missions. Ever since I was young, they taught me that I should serve a mission too. I looked forward to it.
Nine months before I received my call, I moved from Kenya to New Jersey, USA, where my mother was working. When I turned in my mission application, I thought it would be cool to go back to Africa on my mission. In fact, I hoped to be called there.
But when I received my mission call, I learned that I would be going to the Washington Spokane Mission in the United States. I didn’t even know where that was, but the first thought the Spirit spoke to my mind was, “That is where the Lord needs you.”
When I landed in Spokane a few months later, the mission president greeted me and asked me a question: “I was looking at your application. Do you really speak Swahili?”
“Yes,” I replied. “I grew up speaking Swahili and English.”
“Well, then,” he said, “your mission call has been changed from English speaking to Swahili speaking.”
He had been praying for a missionary who could speak Swahili. Some elders in the mission had even tried to learn Swahili on their own. I soon found out why.
Spokane had received a large group of refugees from the east African nations of Tanzania, Kenya, Burundi, Rwanda, and Uganda. Many of those refugees originally came from the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Their Swahili was a little different from what I spoke, but we could understand each other. I ended up spending my whole mission in the same ward in Spokane teaching those refugees.
We are all children of God. He knows us and will use us in areas where we can best serve Him with our unique abilities. This is His work. It is not our work. He puts us where He knows best. When missionaries get their call, they may not be going where they wanted to go, but the Lord is for sure sending them where He wants them to go. The place He sends them is the land where He has prepared people to receive them.
When I arrived in Spokane, I felt like I didn’t have to go to Africa after all. In Spokane, I felt like I was brought to a little Africa in America.
Sometimes I think about my mission and say, “That was too big for me to be a part of. Was I really supposed to be a part of that?”
I’m humbled and grateful to think I was.

I have witnessed and been greatly impressed by the sacrifices many members endure to get to the temple. Let me share one such story.

In 1976, when we were living in Costa Rica, the mission president asked my husband to help organize the first trip from the mission to a temple. The Central America Mission then included Costa Rica, Panama, Nicaragua, and Honduras. The closest temple was the Mesa Arizona Temple. The trip required us to travel five days each way, crossing six borders. The financial sacrifice for most of those who went was great. They sold their television sets, bikes, skates, and anything else they could sell. We traveled in two uncomfortable buses day and night. Some of the members had used all their money to pay for the bus fare and had taken only crackers and margarine to eat on the way.

I have never forgotten the great outpouring of the Spirit we experienced during the three days we spent at the Mesa Temple. I was deeply touched as I watched family members embrace each other with tears streaming down their faces after being sealed for the eternities.

Twenty-four years later the temple in San José, Costa Rica, was dedicated. Among those present at the session I attended were many of the families who had gone on that first temple excursion. They had waited faithfully and worthily for this sacred moment. They all can now attend the temple often because a temple in Panama was recently dedicated, and a temple in Honduras has been announced.

One day, after we had reached the Coppermine, we were paddling on the river during a blizzard. It was the end of July and the snow was flying! The current was powerful, but the headwind was so strong we were struggling for progress. Bob said, “Dad, look at the shore.” I did. We were standing still. And when we stopped paddling, the wind blew us upstream! So we stopped and pulled over and gathered what wood we could for a fire to warm our hands.
We were resting there when we saw a herd of caribou coming directly toward us. They looked spooked, but I was sure they’d follow their established trail. They did and swam across the river. Right behind them was a pack of wolves. As the herd came out of the water, there were two old cows lagging behind. A second set of wolves, waiting on the far shore, renewed the pursuit, and soon dragged down a victim. Had we not stopped to warm our hands, we would have missed this spectacle of life and death.