Gospel Story Finder

Some time ago a friend of mine was facing the same decision you are. My friend Sarah* always had a strong testimony of the Church and its truths. Since we were young, both Sarah and I had a great desire to get married in the temple.

When she was 17 or 18, she met and started dating a young man. He had a great personality and was very easy to like. He wasn’t a member, but in the beginning it didn’t seem like that was a problem.

Eventually, she started to think about how life would be if she married him, even though it wouldn’t be in the temple. She thought: “Maybe it can work; maybe we can compromise. Maybe he will change in time. Maybe I can bring him into the gospel.”

She thought a lot about this, and she cried and she prayed. She knew deep inside that she had always wanted temple marriage, but her feelings for her boyfriend made it hard for her to decide. In the end she broke up with him. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done, but she put her trust in the Lord.

In the spring of 2007 she married a wonderful man. They are now sealed to each other for time and eternity. She’s truly happy she decided to wait until she found someone she loved and could marry in the temple.

If you don’t know what kind of decision to make, pray about it until you do know. Put your trust in the Lord. I know from watching Sarah—and from my own life—that when we do, He blesses us.

Elder Sandino Roman was introduced to the gospel of Jesus Christ as a child. Each Sunday a friend of his mother brought him and his sister to meet with the 15 other members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in a small meetinghouse in Mexico.
The five-year-old prayed every day that his family would become converted to the gospel. Two years later, his mother and father were baptized. One year after that, his father baptized him. “For that reason, I know that the Lord hears children’s prayers,” Elder Roman said.

I grew up on a farm in Colonia Dublán, México, and I learned early how to do farm chores. My father had a large family, and we all had certain assignments. One day after I had finished my chores, I went inside. I had little leaves and pieces of straw and hay in the cuffs of my pants, so I decided to clean them out.
I lifted the lid off our wood-burning stove and dumped the hay and straw into the fire. I stirred the coals and watched the straw and hay sparkle and burn on them in the stove. When I put the lid back on the stove, somehow a hot metal poker slipped and hit me in the center of my eye.
To this day, I remember the incredible pain and agony I felt. My mother heard my screams and came running to my aid. She picked me up in her arms and carried me to her bedroom, where she held me most of the night.
I was only about six years old, and I don’t remember a lot of details about that evening. But I do remember her holding me and cuddling me, trying to comfort me in the midst of such terrible pain. My father was out of town, so my mother spent the night with me alone, praying fervently to Heavenly Father for help and healing.
I spent much of the night crying, but at some point I fell asleep. The next morning I awoke. There was no sign of any burns, no mark, no loss of vision. The faith of my mother had healed me.

While I was serving in the Presiding Bishopric many years ago, I was charged with overseeing the design and development group that created what we named FamilySearch. I am careful to say that I “oversaw” its creation rather than saying I “directed” it. Many brilliant people left careers and came to build what the Lord wanted.
The First Presidency had set a goal of reducing the duplication of ordinances. Their major concern was our being unable to know whether a person’s ordinances had already been performed. For years—or what seemed like years—the First Presidency asked me, “When will you have it done?”
With prayer, diligence, and the personal sacrifice of people of great ability, the task was accomplished. It came step by step. The first task was to make FamilySearch user-friendly for those who were not comfortable with computers. More changes came, and I know they will continue to come, for whenever we proceed to resolve one inspired problem, we open the door for further revelation for advancements at least equally important but not yet seen. Even today, FamilySearch is becoming what the Lord needs for part of His Restoration—and not just for avoiding duplication of ordinances.
The Lord let us make improvements to help people gain feelings of familiarity and even love for their ancestors and complete their temple ordinances. Now, as the Lord surely knew would happen, young people are becoming computer mentors to their parents and ward members. All have found great joy in this service.

During my high school years, I had an experience I will always be grateful for. I came across the lyrics of the hymn “Oh My Father.” I had sung it in Church many times over the years, but for the first time, I really took notice and seriously pondered its meaning. The Spirit bore powerful witness to me of these glorious truths, and I understood, as I had never before, what it means to have a “burning of the bosom.” I knew with a certainty that the plan of salvation was true, that I had lived before as a beloved spirit son of heavenly parents with the full potential of my divine nature and destiny. This gave me the desire to prepare for and receive my patriarchal blessing. I wanted to know my purpose in life and what I was foreordained to do on earth.

One of my favorite stories is the story of Lambert the Sheepish Lion. It became famous in a cartoon some years ago.
Lambert was a lion cub that had lived with a flock of sheep from the time he was born. Because of that, he thought he was a sheep. One spring night Lambert and the flock were sleeping peacefully. Suddenly Lambert heard the scary howl of a wolf in the distance. Because Lambert thought he was a sheep, he began to tremble.
The howl grew louder, and the wolf came closer and began dragging one of the sheep away. Suddenly Lambert felt a strong feeling inside that he had never felt before. Like lightning, he ran toward the wolf to save the sheep!
Just then Lambert realized something. I am not a sheep. I am not the son of a sheep. I am the son of a lion! Lambert thought. When he chased off the wolf and protected the sheep, he knew his true nature.

The day President Howard W. Hunter died was a memorable one for all the Hinckley grandchildren. They were saddened that President Hunter had served such a short time. And they were a little apprehensive because of the great responsibility their grandfather would take on. They knew that as President of the Quorum of the Twelve, their grandfather would become the next President of the Church.

Joseph and Spencer Hinckley were on a backpacking trip with their dad. “We were driving into a town,” says Joseph. “All the flags were at half-mast. As soon as he saw the flags, Dad knew exactly what had happened. He kind of took a deep breath.”

At the solemn assembly when President Hinckley was sustained as the prophet by the Church membership, all the grandchildren stood at the appropriate times and raised their hands to sustain the new President. “It was an amazing experience,” says Ada Hinckley, age 16, “to raise your hand to the square and sustain the prophet of the Church, who is also your grandpa. When they sing, ‘We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet,’ you are just kind of taken aback because they are singing about your grandfather.”
Ada found that the very experience that helped a lot of young people in the Church also helped her gain a testimony that her grandfather was indeed the Lord’s prophet. She attended a general Young Women meeting in which the theme was gaining a testimony of the prophet. “It helped me a lot to gain a testimony that he is a prophet and that he leads the Church. I know he does.”
Katie says, “I sustain him as the prophet, not as my grandpa. With or without the prophet being my grandfather, I have to know for myself if the Church is true. I do.”
Did they notice a difference in their grandfather after he was sustained as the President of the Church? James answers, “At first he was really quiet and just humbled.”
“He spent more time alone,” says Ada. “I think humble is a good word. It’s cool when I hear people talk about him, and they don’t know I’m related. People just love him.”
Jessica notices a difference most when he is speaking. “At conference, you can see the mantle of his calling on him.”
Amy agrees, “He’ll be giving a talk, and he’ll be saying amazing things. I think, ‘Wow.’ When we visit him at his office, then I see him as both. Then he is Grandpa and the prophet at the same time.”
Even though their grandfather gets to meet with important and influential people and leaders, he sees people just as they are. “When he has met the president of the United States or someone like that,” says Amy, “we ask, ‘Are you excited?’ He says, ‘He’s just a man.’ He doesn’t see the different levels or positions of authority. He just sees everyone as equal. If he meets a president or a housewife, he reacts the same way.”
“Yes,” adds James, “he has respect for everyone.”
Ask any of the grandchildren if their grandfather, the prophet, understands what it is like for teenagers today, and they will answer quickly and confidently. “He is never negative about our generation,” says Katie. “He’s really positive. I think sometimes he wishes he were young.”
“Is he in touch with the younger generation?” Spencer asks and then answers. “Yes, because of us.”
“He knows us,” says Ann. “And he knows what we’re involved in and what our pressures are and what our joys are. He knows what’s hard for us and what’s easy.”
Just as he does for his own grandchildren, the prophet prays for the young people of the Church. And he knows that every day in every temple the youth of the Church are prayed for specifically. The advice he gives to his grandchildren is great advice for all youth: Do the best you can. Work hard. Do what is right.
When Jessica attended a class at Ricks College, no one except her close friends knew who her grandfather was. The teacher asked if any of those attending had met President Hinckley or any of the General Authorities. Jessica did not raise her hand. It wasn’t because she was embarrassed. She just wanted to hear what other people had to say. “I was interested that people loved seeing him at temple dedications or conferences.”
“How lucky I am,” says Ann, “that I know him as a person, as a grandfather, and as a prophet! What an amazing thing that is!”

Wilnick Louis says witnessing his older brother Milsont’s baptism made a difference for him. The baptism was held on Sunday after regular meetings, so Wilnick decided to come to church first. “I’d been to activities, but that was the first time I’d come to church on Sunday,” he says. “During the meetings, and then at the baptism, I felt something good. When the missionaries asked me if I’d come again, I said, ‘Yeah, I’ll keep coming.’”

When I was 7 years old and preparing to be baptized, my family was living in Tonga. My father was the mission president. He was only 37 years old.

Being curious what it was like to be baptized, I asked my older brother Brent, who was 9, what it was like. Brent told me that it was wonderful. “When you go down in the water it is a little cold, but when you come up from being baptized, you feel warm and tingly all over.”

I wanted to feel that warm and tingly feeling, so I was super excited for my baptism.

Finally my 8th birthday arrived. My father had arranged a few missionaries to come to the mission home where we lived, which was located right on the beach.

All my friends from school were there as well. I don’t remember the program with singing, prayers, and talks. I just remember my dad taking me into the ocean, out to a place where it was a little deeper. The missionaries were acting as witnesses, and my friends were aligned along the shore. I remember the wind was blowing and the waves were crashing on the shore. I was a little cold as we entered the water. But that’s ok, soon I would be warm and tingly. My brother had told me so.

My father lifted his arm to the square, said the baptismal prayer, and gently lowered me into the cool water. A brief moment later I came up out of the water. I had just been baptized.

I was waiting for that warm tingly feeling to rush over me. To fill my sole with warmth. I waited. And waited. It never came. I was just cold. How could this be? Why was I still cold? Where was the warm and tingly feeling my brother Brent had told be about?

I thought about these questions for years. One theory my young mind came up with was that maybe my baptism didn’t count. Had my father, the mission president, made a mistake? You see, I was born in Utah on October 29th and I was baptized in Tonga on October 29th, but since Tonga is across the International Dateline, it was really October 28th, a day before my 8th birthday, in Utah. Biologically, I was still only 7 years old when I was baptized. And maybe that is why I didn’t feel warm and tingly. You actually had to be 8 years old when you are baptized for it to count. Could this be the reason?

I continued to ponder these questions for the next several years. As I grew in the gospel, I learned more about baptism. I started to understand what it meant to be baptized and that all your sins are washed away. Then I remembered what a rascal, “bad boy”, my older brother Brent had been. It was him who had taught me how to smoke.

You see, one day as I was exploring the tall grass along the shoreline next to the mission home in Sopu, Tonga, I came across that older brother. He had found a stick from a fire that still had a red burning ember on it. When he blew on the stick, the ember would glow and then smoke would rise from the stick. My brother Brent and I pretended we were smoking.

It wasn’t long before my oldest brother, Stephen, came wandering through the tall grass towards us. Feeling guilty that we were smoking, Brent quickly threw the stick with the burning coal down into the tall wet grass to hide it. Unbeknownst to us, Stephen had been filling up the kerosene lanterns and being only 10 years old, had spilled some kerosene on his skinny bare leg. As he bounced up to us, Stephen stepped on the live coal and his leg light up in flames.

He ran down to the beach, but the tide was out. Where we lived, when the tide went out, there was literally no water for hundreds of yards. I remember watching my two older brothers run around the beach in circles, Stephen with a burning leg, and Brent chasing him while scooping up sand and trying to throw it on his leg to put the fire out. Eventually the fire went out and my oldest brother Stephen was fine, other than having all the hair burned off his leg. But I learned a great lesson that day; something that the Apostle Paul had taught the Thessalonians years ago:
Abstain from all appearance of evil.[iii]
Because something bad could actually happen, even though you are just acting ‘bad’.

So back to my baptism story, you know how when you are really dirty and you take a shower or a bath and become clean. You can really feel a difference. So maybe, because my older brother Brent was kind of a rascal and had so many sins that when he was baptized, all those sins were washed away and he felt tingly clean.

I on the other hand was always such an angel. I really didn’t have any sins. So when I was baptized, I was already pretty much clean and so when the few sins I had were washed away, I really didn’t feel a difference. Could this be why I didn’t feel all warm and tingly after my baptism?

Brothers and Sisters, I have since learned that the warm tingly feeling my brother felt was the Spirit of God coming over him. I have also learned that we don’t all feel the Spirit in exactly the same way, nor at the same time. My time to feel the spirit would come. And it has, many times.

Several years ago I heard about a good brother who described his attitude as President David O. McKay gave the concluding talk of general conference. It was a sultry afternoon, and this was the fifth session he had attended. He was sitting in the balcony, and his mind had a serious wandering problem. He noticed a man sitting in the middle section who had fallen asleep with his head tilted back and his mouth open. It occurred to him that if he were in the roof of the Tabernacle, he could drop a spit wad through one of the vent holes right into the mouth of that sleeping man. What a glorious thought!

Following the meeting, he overheard two men talking about their feelings during President McKay’s talk. They were visibly moved by what they had heard. He thought to himself, These two brethren were having a marvelous spiritual experience, and what was I doing? Thinking about dropping spit wads from the ceiling!

Captain Simpson, who is also a flight paramedic, knows from his own experience how effective the bears can be with children. Twelve-year-old Nicole Wallace had to be flown by helicopter from one hospital to another. She was bleeding internally from a lacerated kidney and liver suffered in an automobile accident. She refused to let go of her bear at any time during the transfer from hospital to helicopter to hospital. She finally gave up the bear just before undergoing surgery.
Speaking about the accident, Nicole says, “The car was badly smashed, and the paramedics had to take out the back seat before they could lift me out of the rear window. When they put me in the ambulance, they gave me this cute little bear,” Nicole said. “It kept me from getting scared. I would hold on to it, so I wouldn’t hurt so bad. In the hospital it stayed right by me in my bed.”

Now, thirdly, I want to discuss a gift to self. What kind of a gift could you give to yourself this Christmas season? I am reminded of the story, and maybe some of you have heard it, about a young boy named Johnny. He went to the corner drugstore one day and asked Mr. Brown if he could borrow the phone. Mr. Brown knew him well, and said, “Sure, Johnny.” Johnny dialed the number, and Mr. Brown couldn’t help but hear the conversation which went like this:
“Hello, Mr. Green? I understand you are looking for a boy to come by your place after school and do some yardwork and help on some odd chores.”
“Oh, you already have a boy, and you’re doing fine. I see. Well, thank you very much, Mr. Green.” He hung up the phone and started out of the drugstore. The owner, Mr. Brown, felt a little bit down because of the boy’s conversation, and he said, “Johnny, I just want you to know I’m sorry you didn’t get that job.” Johnny turned around with a smile on his face, and said, “Mr. Brown, I got that job. I was just checking up on myself.”

Alexander and Rachel had a mutual friend who introduced them at a young single adult activity. But the first time they really talked was at a young single adult convention held in Brisbane. Alexander said hello to Rachel as they were leaving the food hall. Rachel had a lot on her mind and needed someone to talk to. So they sat on the grass outside one of the dormitory buildings and talked.

Alexander promised to take Rachel out for her birthday, but before their first date, he was hospitalized because of a motorbike accident. They began spending a lot of time together. But since they lived a long distance from each other, they ended up breaking up and going their separate ways.

More than a year later, Alexander bought another motorbike. While riding home from church, he was struck by a vehicle and was again hospitalized. Rachel’s mother found out about the accident and mentioned it to her daughter. Rachel decided to make the long trip from Brisbane to Sydney to visit Alexander.

Alexander says, “I still had feelings for Rachel, and she must have had feelings for me if she was willing to make the trip from Brisbane just to visit me.” The couple had spoken about marriage when they were going out, but now Alexander felt it was time they prayed about getting married. Rachel was startled by the question but agreed to pray about it.

Alexander already knew his answer. When Rachel prayed to know if they should marry, she felt she should say yes. Alexander was her best friend.

With a cast still on his leg, Alexander took Rachel to the same grassy spot where they had first talked, and then, while sitting on a bench overlooking the ocean, he officially asked her to marry him.

In three months, with the help of family and friends, Rachel moved to Sydney and made plans for a temple marriage. For Alexander and Rachel, their sealing in the temple represents commitment and a promise that they will work on creating an eternal marriage together.

I’m thinking of another missionary, who said, “Two weeks before I was going to see my bishop and tell him I was ready to go in the mission field, I had some doubts. I had some questions about the future and even about the Church. I walked into the living room and interrupted my father, who was watching TV, and said, ‘Dad, I’m not so sure about Joseph Smith. I’m not so sure I know this Church is true. I’m not so sure I want to go out and represent it. I have a lot of questions and I have a lot of misgivings.’ When I said that to my father, he walked over and turned the television off, took the cigarette he had in his hand and smashed it in the ashtray, took the can of beer he had in his other hand and put it down on the table, and said, ‘Son, I want you to know that I don’t do very much about it, but I know that the church of Jesus Christ is true and that Joseph Smith is a prophet. I want you to hear me say it, because I know that better than anything in the world.’” This young man stood up and said, “I want my father to know, even though he probably can’t hear me, that I appreciate him. He has some habits that he’s not proud of. He has some habits that I’m not proud of. But he’s my father and has a testimony and I love him.” That kind of appreciation, that kind of maturity, will not only help a missionary to grow and develop to become more purposeful in life, but will also be a great anchor in life’s paths.

My family lives in Tokyo. We live next door to a factory. That is a good thing because that way we can practice our music without disturbing anyone. And we are always practicing. At 18, I’m the oldest of four sisters. From the time we were tiny children, we have all loved to sing. Our parents thought that singing would be a good way for us to make friends and a good way to share the gospel. We started organizing singing groups at the ward and presenting programs. At first it was scary, especially when we invited nonmember friends to come sing with us. But soon we learned that they were having fun too. Through our programs at the chapel, ten of our friends have become interested in the gospel and have joined the Church. They’re all still active.

Shortly after I had started working in the safety office, Janine and I were attending a concert in the Hart building and I was truly enjoying the experience, but during a break in the performance, my mind started to wander a little about what would happen if we needed to evacuate this performance. So after looking around to find the nearest exit—which is often not the same one you came, in by the way—I turned to Janine and proceeded to explain to her that: “If we have to evacuate, we will use that exit door right over there, and if someone becomes unresponsive, I want you to go down these stairs right here and call 911 and grab the AED that is right above the phone.”
I hadn’t even had a chance to tell her about my whole plan when she looked back at me with a confused look on her face and asked, “What are you talking about!?” I quickly realized that having a plan is a good idea, but immediately sharing it with someone—especially in the middle of a concert—may not be the best idea. So we went back to enjoying the rest of the concert and sure enough, we didn’t even have to use my quickly conceived emergency plan. (Hopefully all of you listened to the announcement just before devotional started today and found your nearest exit.) I often think about that experience and wonder why it seemed so important to me in that moment to have an emergency plan and I have decided that, if not necessarily a normal thing to think about, having an emergency plan is always a good idea, no matter what situation I find myself in.

Just one month ago, our campus experienced tragedy and sorrow. In those most intense moments, I worked shoulder to shoulder with faculty, staff, and students who exemplified the compassion of being a true follower of Christ. They used every ounce of strength they had to sustain the people around them. And the people around them in turn supported and uplifted them when they needed help. I want to express my gratitude to each one of you.
As I think about us being an example, one of our recent graduates stands out in my mind. In that time of deep sorrow and tragedy, which she was feeling as deeply as many others, I saw her mustering up the strength to embrace and comfort those who were struggling with the trauma. I saw as she sat with them day and night to ensure that they had food and water and someone to care for them if they needed it. I saw her walk her friends to and from sessions with our counseling services. I watched her help them seek joy and laughter in these difficult moments.
Her Christlike compassion makes all the difference for the people around her. She is a fulfillment of President McKay’s prophecies and exemplifies the pattern and blessings of covenant belonging. She probably did not see herself as heroic, but to me, she was.

With the expansion of the Church in Europe, there are countries where the Church has been for no more than 15 years. During our visit in 2005, I spoke with a mission president serving in his homeland of Russia who had been a member for only seven years. He told me, “The same month I was baptized I was called as a branch president.” Did he feel overwhelmed at times? Absolutely! Did he try to implement the full range of Church programs? Fortunately not! How did he grow so strong in such a small congregation in such a short time? He explained, “I knew with all my soul the Church was true. The doctrine of the gospel filled my mind and my heart. As we joined the Church, we felt part of a family. We felt warmth, trust, and love. We were only few, but we all tried to follow the Savior.”
The members supported each other, they did the best they could, and they knew the Church was true. It was not the organization that had attracted him but the light of the gospel, and this light strengthened those good members.

A crafted red and pink paper heart frame holds a picture of the entire family dressed in white. In April 1993, the Richards family was sealed in the St. George temple. It was Mom and Dad’s tenth wedding anniversary. “It made for a special day,” Mom said. Emily says she remembers that everything in the temple was white and that she felt nice inside. “The children didn’t want to leave,” Mom said. They loved the beautiful chandeliers and the pictures of Jesus Christ inside the temple.
The family had driven for five days to get to St. George. Why did they travel so far to be sealed? On a previous vacation they had driven into St. George, and the city was covered with a thick layer of gray fog. They couldn’t see anything except the white glow of the temple. This experience made them want to return to St. George to be sealed there.
They stopped at four other temples on that trip. “Each time we visited a temple grounds, we felt a family togetherness,” Mom said. On the way home, they stopped and ate at a hotel. The hotel employees were so impressed with the children’s polite behavior and kind manner that they gave the entire family free dessert.

Let me give you an example. Earlier this summer I drove my son down to Provo to drop him off at the MTC. He is our eldest child, and it was just me and him for those four hours since his mom and sisters were at Girls Camp, and the youngest was at Grandma's house.

We had a really nice time together on the way down, and we visited together on the steps of the Provo Temple for a few minutes before I dropped him off. We took a picture, had a big hug, shed a tear, and off he went. He didn't look back. I know because I watched him all the way.

I drove away, around the corner and down the street. By the time I got over, adjacent to Lavell Edwards stadium, I was overcome by the grief and pain of the departure of my little boy—my hiking and climbing buddy, our lawn mower and babysitter, my son.

I pulled over, sobbing, unable to see the road in front of me through my tears. I knew what he would be going through. I knew it would be wonderful and hard, exciting and scary, that he needed to experience that, and I knew God would guide and keep him, but I missed him, and it hurt.

In this my moment of sorrow, I cried out to my Heavenly Father, "How can I do this?" and He said, so clearly I could hear it, "How do you think I felt when you left?" Pow. It hit me right in my heart.

If God loves us like this, sending us to earth, eagerly anticipating our return, hearing my prayers in the same way I can hardly wait for each P-day with its accompanying pictures and precious email—wow! That's how it works.

This experience has become a touchstone for me, a persistent example of things Heavenly Father prepared to remind us of Him, His love for us, and His hand in our lives. All things testify of him.