Gospel Story Finder

And frankly, for a while we were a little confused about how to have faith in a miracle that wasn’t coming. How could we really have faith we’d get pregnant if miracles come according to the Lord’s will? If it wasn’t His will, then what difference would our faith really make?
I didn’t realize I was understanding faith and miracles all wrong.
As I struggled to understand what faith really meant in my situation, I was preparing for our last round of a fertility treatment. Three rounds had already failed, and my doctor didn’t recommend attempting more than four. I didn’t have much hope that this time would be different.
That night, I laid in bed pondering miracles. As I did, I internalized something important: I wasn’t supposed to have faith in a miracle itself. I was supposed to have faith in Jesus Christ. And I did (and still do) have faith in Him.
The next day I listened to the Primary song, “The Miracle.” The chorus says:
“Jesus is a God of miracles;
Nothing is at all impossible to Him,
But I know this:
Of all His miracles, the most incredible must be
The miracle that rescues me.”1
I suddenly felt like the answers to my questions were coming to my mind:
First, I had already learned that I needed to focus my faith on Christ, not the miracle I was seeking. I believed in Him and knew that Heavenly Father and the Savior had the power to answer our prayers.
Second, our faith in the Savior does make a difference. President Russell M. Nelson said: “The mountains in our lives do not always move how or when we would like. But our faith will always propel us forward. Faith always increases our access to godly power.”2
Third, I felt strongly that if having a baby as soon as we wanted wasn’t the Lord’s will, we would be blessed with other miracles, like peace, spiritual guidance, and joy.
And finally, I realized that the most important miracle in my life had already happened—the Savior suffered and died for me. He took upon Himself my sorrows, weaknesses, sicknesses, and even all my complicated emotions surrounding infertility. He is the ultimate miracle that makes everything else OK. And as President Nelson said, “The Savior is never closer to you than when you are facing or climbing a mountain with faith.”3

Thinking back to my first ward road show, I distinctly remember the early-morning practices, the prayers, the talking to others as we waited to perform our parts, and the camaraderie we felt as we painted scenery, practiced, and learned together. These were the times when I watched how the gospel worked in the real lives of real people. I saw how my advisers handled problems, how leaders reacted under pressure, how spouses related to each other, and I made silent decisions about living the principles I was being taught on Sunday. I felt the Spirit as we prayed for miracles, such as remembering our parts or the health of one of the youth.
I don’t remember my lines from that road show, nor do I remember all the other particulars. But I do remember how I felt as we performed and as I looked into the faces of my ward members and saw their approval and felt their love.

I really liked your June 1997 Question and Answer about music. A month before I read that, I bought a CD that I didn’t know had some bad songs on it. My mom read through the lyrics and told me I shouldn’t listen. I then told my mom I couldn’t even hear the words. So I listened to it anyway and actually felt pretty bad. Even though I had heard the song before, I had never felt so bad listening to it.
Name WithheldSt. George, Utah

When Heather decided she wanted to go out for baseball, she didn’t think twice about the fact that there are no girls’ teams in her area. Today the petite 15-year-old with long dark hair and bangs is the only girl playing on boys’ teams in her league, and she’s doing pretty well.
The Drummonds are not the most outspoken kids in the world. They’re doers rather than talkers. But they will open up if you ask. Heather, for example, will tell you that she doesn’t feel short-changed by not growing up with a mother. “I’ve lived with guys all my life, so I do the things they do,” she says. “But I also do girl things. My best friends are girls. I don’t think growing up only with guys has hurt me.” Heather has her own ways of asserting her femininity. In the dugout, for example, even though she tucks her long brown hair up under her cap and wears a bulky uniform like the rest of the players, you can’t miss her because she’s the one wearing pink lipstick. And sometimes, when the other players lose their tempers and start swearing, they’re quickly reminded that a girl is present when Heather tells them, “Hey—watch your language!” And, she says, “They usually apologize.”
“Some of the guys I play with are kind of mean,” says Heather. “They say the only reason I’m on the team is because the coach doesn’t know how to cut a girl. I have to play extra hard to overcome that. I’ve been tempted to quit, but when I am, I just tell myself I have to stick in there, because everyone would think I can’t handle it. I can handle it,” she says with conviction, and you don’t doubt her.

Mylea Moua’s cousins make fun of her for going to church. Some of her close family members discourage her church attendance. Her friends at school wonder why she would ever want to be a Latter-day Saint.
Mylea’s challenges are not unique in the Twin Cities Second (Hmong) Branch of the Anoka Minnesota Stake. Many of the youth have less-active parents and nonmember family members who mock their religion. It would be easy for Mylea, a Mia Maid, to just quit coming to church. “A lot of Hmong people ask ‘How can the Church help you?’ They reject it,” she says. “I don’t really care what people think, because how I feel makes me happy. But I feel bad for them because they don’t have the gospel.”
Unlike many of the older Hmong generation in Minnesota, Mylea and the other youth feel it’s possible to be both Hmong and LDS. “I do the best I can and try to be a good example,” she says.
Sandy Yang, the Beehive president, is also doing her best to be a good example, though she says it is more difficult to share the gospel with her family than with her friends. Her parents divorced when she was eight years old. “It was hard, but I felt the warmth of Jesus Christ, and I knew everything was going to be okay,” she says. “I started to come to church more, and I learned the divorce was not about me. It was about my parents.” Sandy’s father is no longer active in the Church, but her mother and some of her brothers and sisters are. She says it’s her testimony that takes her through the hard times and keeps her coming.
Sandy and the other Hmong youth agree that regular scripture study and attending Sunday School really help to strengthen their testimonies. “I guess I know a lot because of the gospel,” says Toua Yang, Sandy’s brother. “Without it I wouldn’t know why I’m here or what I would do after I died.” He credits going to seminary and trying to teach others about the gospel with helping his testimony grow. Toua, a priest, plans to tell more people about the gospel when he goes on a mission in two years.
“We’re kind of the first generation, you know,” Mylea says. Even though many of their parents or even grandparents are members of the Church, the non-Christian Hmong traditions are still a strong influence in their lives.
Most of the older generation of Hmong people in the Anoka Stake are from Laos and Cambodia. The Hmong tradition includes the practice of shamanism, which involves ancestor worship and belief in good and evil spirits that can be summoned by a priest, or shaman. The Hmong culture and shamanism are linked, but are not the same thing, so the Hmong youth try to preserve their heritage while living the gospel and leaving non-Christian traditions behind. But their task is difficult.
Pang Yang, Toua’s sister, says death is the end of existence in the Hmong tradition. She’s happy she knows a better way. “It’s easier because I know what’s wrong and what’s right. The gospel is safer than the Hmong way. I think it’s easy because I know where I’ll go when I die.”
The Hmong youth are looking to the future—trying to rise above the difficulties of the traditions in their homes. Mylea and the others try to bring their younger brothers and sisters to church regularly to establish a tradition of faith in their families. Establishing a gospel tradition is a real goal, says See Moua, Mylea’s sister. “It’s not far now. It makes you want to keep the commandments,” See says.
Pang is also excited about the future. “I really look forward to getting married in the temple. That’s the one thing I really want to do.”
Ultimately, it’s their individual testimonies that keep these Hmong youth active in the Church while they face so much opposition from friends and family. “Sometimes you doubt,” says Mylea. “And I had doubts.” But when she learned more about the life of Joseph Smith and about the gospel, her doubts left her. “Everything was taken away from Joseph Smith, even his own life. Now I know he wasn’t lying.”
The other Hmong youth know challenges to their faith will come, either through their families’ traditions or just from their own doubts. That’s why they keep coming to church—the more they learn and the more they rely on the Lord, the stronger they become in the gospel. They know who they are, why they’re here, and where they’re going. And their testimonies grow stronger with each Sunday School lesson, each seminary class, and each time they choose to keep the Lord’s commandments and standards.
Of all the traditions we should cultivate within ourselves and our families, a ‘tradition of righteousness’ should be preeminent. Hallmarks of this tradition are an unwavering love for God and His Only Begotten Son, respect for prophets and priesthood power, a constant seeking of the Holy Spirit, and the discipline of discipleship which transforms believing into doing. A tradition of righteousness sets a pattern for living which draws children closer to parents, and both closer to God, and elevates obedience from a burden to a blessing” (Ensign, Nov. 2000, 28).—Elder Donald L. Hallstrom of the Seventy

When I was in the seventh grade, in a health class, the teacher read an article. A mother learned that the neighbor children had chicken pox. She faced the probability that her children would have it as well, perhaps one at a time. She determined to get it all over with at once.
So she sent her children to the neighbor’s to play with their children to let them be exposed, and then she would be done with it. Imagine her horror when the doctor finally came and announced that it was not chicken pox the children had; it was smallpox.
The best thing to do then and what we must do now is to avoid places where there is danger of physical or spiritual contagion.

And years later when I was back in Argentina, I was dating Joaquin, and he was not a member of the Church, I had long talks and support from my bishop that gave me the strength to always put the gospel first and stick to my eternal goals. He was always there to listen and help me figure things out, or to give me a blessing and the encouragement I needed. Thanks to all that, I had the strength to say no when Joaquin proposed, because I had made the decision to marry in the temple.

The first temple in Argentina was dedicated when I was 21. And even then, it was pretty far from my house. But I did think of the temple, and I learned about the temple. I saw families selling their homes to be sealed in the closest temple, which was in Mesa, Arizona. The value of temples was of great impact, because we didn’t have a temple. We longed for one. I had wonderful bishops and leaders that helped me set goals, that taught me the importance of temple covenants, and the temple was my highest and first priority.

I am not sure I understood this at the time, but just like in Bible times when people attended a temple, they brought a sacrifice to the Lord; I, too, was going to have to bring a huge sacrifice to the Lord.

Buenos Aires in the ‘80s was not like Rexburg today; the list of eligible bachelors was pretty short! Imagine then how hard it was when this amazing young man that melted my heart asked me to marry him and I had to say no. It was painful and heartbreaking. It was a sacrifice, an act of faith. When he spoke of marriage, I told him about my goals, about how important temple marriage was for me. I knew he probably thought I was crazy; and, there was a pretty good chance I would never see him again!

We all have to make sacrifices to bring to the Lord to the temple. What are you going to sacrifice? Say no to something you really like and go to the temple. Leave your Netflix show for another day and go to the temple! Say no to video games for one day and go to the temple! Wish you had a date and you don’t? Go to the temple! Temple covenants are part of the plan of salvation; and, temple worship is part of our earthly education. Bring to the temple your greatest joys, your biggest sorrows, and your deepest questions. I had to make a sacrifice and say no to a wonderful boy, no matter how handsome, kind, or how good of a catch he was!

I am grateful for bishops that taught me the importance of temples, for goals that raised my vision, for the faith to say no to someone I really loved, and, above all, I am grateful that he stuck around to find out for himself and did marry me in the temple!

From the moment of his conversion, John Taylor was committed to giving his all to the Lord’s work. Through his decades of service, he placed his trust in the Lord, knowing that if he served faithfully, the Lord would sustain him and enable him to accomplish His will. On one occasion when Elder Taylor was preaching the gospel on the Isle of Man near England, he had arranged for the printing of some tracts he had written in response to the false accusations against the Church and the Prophet Joseph Smith. However, the printer refused to deliver the tracts until he was paid in full. Anxious to distribute the tracts as soon as possible, Elder Taylor prayed to the Lord for help, which was soon given.

A few minutes after his prayer was offered, a young man came to the door, and upon being invited to enter handed Elder Taylor an envelope and walked out. The young man was unknown to him. The envelope contained some money and a little note which read: ‘The laborer is worthy of his hire,’ and no signature was placed thereon. A few minutes later a poor woman engaged as a fish vendor came to the house and offered a little money to assist him in his ministerial labors. He told her there was plenty of money in the world and he did not wish to take her money. She insisted that the Lord would bless her the more and she would be happier if he would accept, whereupon he received the offering, and to his surprise the poor woman’s mite, added to what the young man had given him, made exactly the amount sufficient to pay the printer the balance due him (Andrew Jenson, Latter-day Saint Biographical Encyclopedia, 4 vols. (1901-36), 1:16).

A short time ago I toured with the president of the Alaska-British Columbia Mission. His daughter in high school had been successful in converting one of her chums, so she told her father she wanted to spend her summer vacation in the mission field. He sent her up to Anchorage to labor with a lady missionary, and he and I were there to attend a baptismal service when eleven people were baptized. Nine of them were the converts of this girl and her companion. The daughter came up to me with tears running down her cheeks and said, “Oh, Brother Richards, I have never been so happy in all my life.”

God will always be at the helm when we minister to His sons and daughters in need. I was in a meeting with the General Authorities of the Church when President Thomas S. Monson told the story of how he had failed to follow a prompting to leave a meeting early to minister to a friend who was in the hospital because he felt it would embarrass those conducting the meeting. Later when he went to the hospital, he was informed that his friend had passed away. He taught us that people are always more important than meetings. He then said, “Never ignore a prompting—go to the rescue.” Looking at each of us gathered there, with tears streaming from his eyes, he asked, “Have you rescued anyone lately?”

One youth Sunday School teacher wondered how to help two young men with autism act for themselves. When she invited class members to share what they were learning, she worried that these two young men might refuse her invitation. But they didn’t. One stood to teach what he had learned and then invited his classmate with autism to help him. When the first began to struggle, his classmate stayed with him and whispered in his ear so that he could feel successful. They were both teaching that day. They were teaching what the Savior taught, but they were also teaching how the Savior taught. When the Savior taught, He acted out of love for the one He was teaching, just as this classmate did for his friend.5

Recently I dealt with sciatic pain in my back and down my right leg for nearly a year. It was a miserable time, but a time of self-reflection, a time of learning, a time of waiting on the Lord to teach me what I should know and do.

Since I was 16, I have had back problems off and on throughout my life, which started while working at a TV store lifting big old stereo console TVs. When you’re young you think you can do it all, and you almost can, but life catches up to you. In the past when my back would flare up, I would find relief through muscle relaxants, physical therapy, chiropractors, or through a cortisone shot. I was always glad to be able to get through it without needing surgery. I hoped I never would need surgery.

This time, almost nothing seemed to be working, but I fought the idea of surgery.

Because of the pain I was going through, my prayers were more intense, pleading for relief, for strength and patience to help me through this dark time. The Lord knows us and knows what we need. He put multiple people in my path who had been through similar problems like mine, who did have surgery and were walking examples to me of the blessing of having surgery.

I don’t want to say I’m an advocate for surgery; instead, I’m an advocate of listening to the Spirit and learning what the Lord would have you do. He does know you!

I give credit to my dear wife, for her patience and endurance with me. She knew all along what I needed but also knew I had to figure it out for myself. Sometimes we men are just a little too hard-headed and proud.

My good wife counseled me to fast and pray about whether I should have the surgery. Even after I had my answer, I still waivered because I was scared, not knowing what long-term affects it would have on me. Again, with encouragement from my wife, I received a priesthood blessing from a good friend and co-worker. Through that blessing the way became clear: if I wanted relief, I needed to have the surgery.

It’s been eight months since surgery, and last month I was able to climb Table Mountain with two of my kids and a son-in-law. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it.

Let me share a personal experience related to that. A few weeks ago, Mônica and I were in Logan for an assignment, and we decided to go on a date. A friend from that area recommended the Bluebird. Maybe some of you here today are familiar with that restaurant. It is a nice place. Founded in 1914, the restaurant opened in its present location in 1923.

As we were there in the restaurant, our server came to us and asked, “Are you Elder Godoy?”

I said, “Yes.”

Then he started to talk to us in Spanish. He had served as a missionary in Peru, where we had served also.

While chatting here and there, I sensed that he was not comfortable with the subject of mission service. Since I knew his former mission president very well, as we were eating I sent him a message asking about that elder. His mission president replied that he had been a good missionary but that he didn’t finish his mission. And then I could understand why he was a little uncomfortable with the subject. I didn’t want him to feel bad about himself.

And why not? Because missions—although they are so important to all of us and to the Church—are not a saving ordinance. I wanted to tell him that, but that was not the right environment. I wanted to hug him. I wanted to say, “Don’t feel bad about yourself. Just keep going.”

I want to tell those here today who for some reason have not served a mission or didn’t finish it, don’t punish yourself for the rest of your life. Just stand up and aim at the next ordinance. Ordinances are the keys for our salvation and exaltation. And the next ordinance after your mission is sealing. This should be your main concern, to be worthy to get there with the right person at the right time. Stand up, aim toward the temple, and keep going. There are so many things still to be done in this life, and the Lord still expects a lot from you.

I overheard a conversation between golfing great Arnold Palmer and a young caddie he was using for the first time. The young caddie, while handing Mr. Palmer his club, told him the distance to the flag was 165 yards, there was an unseen stream on the left, and a long and treacherous rough on the right. In a very kind but firm way, Mr. Palmer reminded the young man that the only information he required was the distance to the hole. He further suggested he didn’t want to lose focus by worrying about what was on the right or left.

It is easy to lose sight of the really important objectives of life. There is much to distract us. Some are floundering in the water hazards on the left, and others are finding the long, treacherous rough on the right insurmountable. Safety and success come when focus is maintained on the important opportunities found by driving the ball straight down the middle—priesthood advancement, temple worthiness, and missionary service. And that’s the way it is.

Polly’s desire to put aside the cares of the world and put the gospel of Jesus Christ first extended throughout her life. When the Saints were building the Kirtland Temple, she and Ruth decided that it was “right and necessary to give liberally” to help with the construction. Providing “the full extent of their means,” the two women donated so much that Joseph Smith finally told them, “It is enough.” Their “unbounded liberality” also extended to missionaries who were serving in the eastern United States.6

Parents need to be consistent and loving, taking into account each child’s unique nature and disposition; setting appropriate limits to acceptable behavior, including modest dress, clean language, and dignified appearance; and then allowing each child his or her needed autonomy. Children are better prepared for the inevitable day when they leave home if parents “teach them correct principles and they [learn to] govern themselves” (Joseph Smith, quoted by John Taylor in “The Organization of the Church,” Millennial Star 13, no. 22 [15 November 1851]: 339; James R. Clark, comp., Messages of the First Presidency, 6 vols. [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1966–75], 3:54; also see JD 10:57–58).

Helping children learn how to make decisions requires that parents give them a measure of autonomy, dependent on the age and maturity of the child and the situation at hand. Parents need to give children choices and should be prepared to appropriately adjust some rules, thus preparing children for real-world situations (see Hart, “Three Principles,” 59). To do this, parents must listen—really listen—to what their children are saying. They must know what is important to each child. I learned this lesson years ago from one of our daughters. She was only four or five at the time. She came into the room all excited. I was reading the newspaper, and she had something very much on her mind that was important to her. I was responding, “Yes. Uh-huh. Uh-huh.” All of a sudden the newspaper came crashing down under her two little hands. She grabbed my face between her hands so that she could look me right in the eye. This was a little four- or five-year-old teaching her father a great lesson: “Daddy, you’re not listening to me.” And she was right.

Parents, let’s listen and know what is important in the lives of our children. If we fail to listen, if we don’t try to understand their point of view, how can we expect them to come to us for guidance in making important decisions?

“Talking about suicide in appropriate ways actually helps to prevent it rather than encourage it,” taught Sister Aburto. Her father died by suicide. For many years, she avoided talking about his death with her family. However, she has since learned the value in speaking about it honestly and plainly. “I have now openly discussed my father’s death with my children and witnessed the healing that the Savior can give on both sides of the veil.”

The fourth decision I made for which I am very grateful was also one that I made when I was at Oxford. You may have noticed how high they had to raise this podium - I am 6'8", and when you are tall you don’t have to be very good to play basketball. So I tried out for and made the Oxford Varsity basketball team. We had a great team. Those guys were the best friends that I’ve ever known in my life, and we went through the regular season and were undefeated. Then we went into the British equivalent of what we would call here the NCAA basketball tournament. We marched through each of those games in a fairly easy fashion until we came to the final four, and then kind of cluelessly I looked at the schedule to find out when the games were scheduled, and to my horror saw that the final basketball game was scheduled to be played on Sunday in Bristol. And I was devastated because I had made a commitment to myself when I was 16 that I would never play basketball on Sunday. I went to the coach truly conflicted because these guys, we had worked our guts out all season long and I was the starting center, and the guys on the team were the best friends that I’ve ever had in my whole life and I needed to help them win this goal that we had all practiced for. And yet I’d made this commitment to Heavenly Father. So I told my coach about this conflict and asked him what I should do. And he was just incredulous. He said, “We have worked so hard for this. I can’t believe you’re even asking.” He said, “I don’t know who your god is, but mine, let me tell you what he’s like. He lets us by on things like this. And Clay, just this once, just this once, play this game and then go off and do whatever you have to do with your god and make peace with him and never do it again.”
Well, then we played in the semi-final game, and my friend who was the back-up center got up-ended on a rebound and fell down on his shoulder and dislocated his shoulder, which then increased the pressure for me to play that game. So I went back into my hotel room after that game and knelt down and asked Heavenly Father if it would be all right, just this once, if I played that game on Sunday. As I started my prayer, really before I could even utter a word, Heavenly Father put a full-sentence answer in my mind, and it was “Clayton, what are you even asking me for? You know the answer.” I sat up on the bed and looked at the door and I said, “You’re right, I know the answer.” So I went to my coach and I told him how sorry I was, but I just couldn’t play on Sunday. Then I went to the Bristol ward meetings that day, and prayed that God would bless my teammates that they would win, and they did, which means, I guess, I wasn’t that important to the team. But you know, as time has passed, and that was a decision I made now almost 30 years ago, it looms as one of the most important decisions I have ever made because it would have been very easy to say, in general, keeping the Sabbath day holy is the right commandment, but in my particular extenuating circumstances, it’s okay, just this once, if I don’t do it. And the reason that decision has proven so important to me is that my whole life has turned out to be an un-ending stream of extenuating circumstances, and had I crossed that line just that once, then the next time something came up that was so demanding and critical, it would have been so much easier to cross the line again. And when I have been subsequently confronted with opportunities to look at pornography or not pay my tithing, or compromise on others of God’s commandments, this lesson that I learned has been very important. The lesson is it really is easier to keep the commandments 100 percent of the time than it is 98 percent of the time.

My younger sister, Hannah, was also studying about the Godhead that week. She said that when her teacher talked about God the Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost being one person, she knew that it was not true. She tried to shut out what was being said by not listening. After Bible class, she went up to her teacher and said, “Joseph Smith said he saw two Personages.” Her teacher was taken aback and asked her to explain what she meant. Hannah explained our church’s teaching about the Godhead, and her teacher listened and was respectful. Afterward, the teacher told our mom that she was proud of Hannah for sharing her beliefs with her. Her teacher even came to watch Hannah get baptized at the beach later that year.

When Elder Backman finished his mission, he was soon drafted. “When I went down to make my appearance, who should show up but my mission companion of 15 months. He was drafted the very same day. Here was another of those examples where the Lord had his hand on me. Instead of being isolated and going into the army by myself, here was my beloved missionary companion by my side. We went down to Camp Wolters, Texas, for basic training. The first six weeks we were there, we got transferred six different times to different outfits, always together. By that time in the war there was a heavy need for infantry, so we were being trained as infantry replacements. I don’t know what I would have done without my missionary companion. We were always transferred together. In fact, along with us were five other Mormon boys, all returned missionaries. We formed a cluster that sustained us all during those 17 weeks of basic training and gave us the strength and courage to face that kind of challenge. You can imagine going from the mission field into the army!”
At the end of basic training every one of those Mormon boys was sent to the Pacific. “The whole bunch of us went overseas together. I’ll never forget going out of San Francisco harbor and under that bridge. You just can’t describe the feeling of leaving this land and wondering if you’re ever going to see it again.”
He helped care for his seasick companions on the month-long voyage to New Guinea. “We thought that they would surely give us more training before they put us into combat, but they didn’t.” In New Guinea the Mormon group was finally split up, as each member received a different assignment, Elder Backman being placed with the 43rd Division. “But just think! We remained together all that time, and my beloved missionary companion, whom I still love to this day like a brother, stayed with me all that time. I just can’t conceive of that all just being happenchance.”