Gospel Story Finder

Many in the group then traveled about 10 kms to the eastern side of the island to the village of Aroaha, where nine new convert baptisms were performed in a beautiful lagoon of the Pacific Ocean.

Photograph from Getty Images
Some years ago, I taught the six-year-olds in Primary. Anna was listed on my roll. I knew the family well enough to know that her parents had separated and she lived with her father. They rarely came to church.
I stopped by the house to meet Anna and her father and to invite Anna to Primary. Anna seemed interested, but she never came. Every Sunday morning for weeks, I called her home to invite her to Primary. No one ever answered the phone, but I always left a message telling Anna how happy I would be to see her in Primary.
One Sunday morning, Anna was there. Her father had helped her get ready for Primary in her best Sunday dress and then he dropped her off at the church. Happy to see her, I welcomed her and helped her get to know the other children in the class.
We had our lesson, sang songs, and had a coloring activity at the end of class. As the children were leaving, Anna came to me and dropped a crumpled piece of paper in my hands. At first, I thought it was trash. I was about to throw it away, but the Spirit prompted me to unfold it. Anna had written me a note on the paper. In a six-year-old’s handwriting, it said, “I love you.”
Anna didn’t know me enough to love me. All she knew of me was a voice on her answering machine inviting her to Primary. But that small effort to reach out to her helped Anna know that someone cared about her and wanted to help her feel the Savior’s love.
I saw Anna in Primary once in a while and her father began coming to church occasionally as well. But when circumstances changed again for their family, we didn’t see them as often.
I have thought about Anna over the years. With all my heart I hope she remembers her time in Primary. She may remember some of what she learned, but I hope far more that she remembers feeling the love of the Lord, the comfort of the Spirit, and the love of a teacher.

Example 2. I now want to describe how all Church programs and initiatives are gathered together in one in Christ. Many additional illustrations could be presented; I will use only a selected few.
In 1978, President Spencer W. Kimball instructed members of the Church to build up the strength of Zion throughout the world. He counseled the Saints to remain in their native lands and establish strong stakes by gathering the family of God and teaching them the ways of the Lord. He further indicated that more temples would be built and promised blessings for the Saints wherever they lived in the world.
As the number of stakes increased, the need was intensified for member homes to “become [places] where family members [loved] to be, where they [could] enrich their lives and find mutual love, support, appreciation, and encouragement.” Consequently, in 1980, Sunday meetings were consolidated into a three-hour block to “reemphasize personal and family responsibility for learning, living, and teaching the gospel.” This emphasis on family and the home again was affirmed in “The Family: A Proclamation to the World,” introduced by President Gordon B. Hinckley in 1995.
In April of 1998, President Hinckley announced the construction of many more small temples, thereby bringing the sacred ordinances of the Lord’s house closer to Latter-day Saint individuals and families throughout the world. And these enhanced opportunities for spiritual growth and development were complemented by related increases in temporal self-reliance through the introduction of the Perpetual Education Fund in 2001.
During his administration, President Thomas S. Monson repeatedly exhorted the Saints to go “to the rescue” and emphasized caring for the poor and needy as one of the Church’s divinely appointed responsibilities. Continuing the emphasis on temporal preparation, the Self-Reliance Services initiative was implemented in 2012.
Over the past several years, essential principles about making the Sabbath day a delight in the home and at church have been emphasized and reinforced, thus preparing us for the Sunday meeting schedule adjustment that was announced in this session of general conference.
And six months ago, Melchizedek Priesthood quorums were strengthened and aligned more effectively with the auxiliaries to accomplish a higher and holier approach to ministering.
I believe that the sequence and timing of these actions over many decades can help us to see one united and comprehensive work and not just a series of independent and discrete initiatives. “God has revealed a pattern of spiritual progress for individuals and families through ordinances, teaching, programs, and activities that are home centered and Church supported. Church organizations and programs exist to bless individuals and families and are not ends in themselves.”
I pray we can recognize the Lord’s work as one great worldwide work that is becoming ever more home centered and Church supported. I know and testify that the Lord is revealing and “will yet reveal many great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God.”

Our efforts to share the gospel should not be limited to our circle of friends and associates. During the Olympics we learned of an LDS taxi driver in Rio de Janeiro who carried copies of the Book of Mormon in seven different languages and gave one to whoever would receive them. He called himself the “cab driving missionary.” He said, “The streets of Rio de Janeiro … are [my] mission field.”

Not many people have seen the world from the same perspective that Richard Searfoss has. “There are no words to describe the beauty of the planet and the harmony of this place that was created for us,” says Brother Searfoss, pilot of the space shuttle Columbia. “While we were very busy in orbit, I would snatch moments and just gaze out of the window and gather it all in emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. The whole mission was professionally rewarding and spiritually humbling.”
And yet Brother Searfoss, a member of the League City Ward, Friendswood Texas Stake, notes, “While seeing the earth from orbit reinforced what I already believed, it didn’t add anything to it. There’s no need for people to go into space to gain a testimony.”
Brother Searfoss, a lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Air Force, joined six others on the 14-day life-science research mission in October 1993, the longest shuttle orbit to date. As pilot, he was one of the primary crew members during the shuttle’s ascent and entry. While in space, he participated in numerous experiments, both as observer and subject. His duties also included earth observation, engineering tests, and navigational exercises.
Crew members worked 16-hour days and had little free time. However, Brother Searfoss fit a few gravity-free somersaults into his evening schedule along with a regular exercise routine assigned by doctors. He also managed to spend a few minutes every day reading scriptures, usually after breakfast. “We were allowed to carry a few personal items,” Brother Searfoss explains. “Most of us carried pictures; I hung the picture of my wife, Julie, and my daughters, Megan and Elizabeth, over my mid-deck locker. I also had a few of my favorite scriptures printed on cards.
“There were reverent moments up there,” he continues, “moments when my spirit was open to more important things than just day-to-day concerns.”
Brother Searfoss is already anticipating his future assignments. “I’m a career astronaut,” he notes. “I’m looking forward to being up there again.”

(93) As a full-time missionary, Ronald A. Rasband uses his foot to stop a door from closing.

I am very grateful for the opportunity I’ve been given to serve a mission. My time at the Dominican Republic MTC was very beneficial with excellent teachers in Mexico, and the support of my new friends called companions. It was the best time to integrate into missionary life. I thank Elder and Sister Wilkinson for their love. They are my new family. I testify that this great work is our Savior’s work, and He directs it. He loves us and knows us personally.

The scriptures provide a way for us to increase our faith and trust in the Saviour. King Benjamin taught us to have the scriptures always before our eyes so we can read and understand God’s will for us, so we do not dwindle in unbelief.5 I remember our family’s efforts to develop daily scripture study. We would always ask, “Where are the scriptures?” It was not long before our children would say, “Where are the scriptures, Daddy?” We “should remember to search them diligently, that [we] may profit thereby”.6 Our family’s faith will increase each day as we diligently read the scriptures together.

Some who profess to be followers of Christ insist that members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are not Christians. Indeed, there are those who make their living attacking our church and its doctrines. I wish all of them could have the experience I shared.
A friend who was making his first visit to Salt Lake City called on me in my office. He is a well-educated man and a devout and sincere Christian. Although we have not discussed this with each other, we both know that some leaders of his denomination have taught that members of our church are not Christians.
After a short discussion on a matter of common interest, I told my friend I had something I would like him to see. We walked over to Temple Square and into the North Visitors’ Center. We viewed the pictures of Bible and Book of Mormon Apostles and prophets. Then we turned our steps up the inclined walkway to the second level. Here Thorvaldsen’s great statue of the risen Christ dominates a setting suggestive of the immensity of space and the grandeur of the creations of God.
As we emerged and beheld this majestic likeness of the Christus, arms outstretched and hands showing the wounds of his Crucifixion, my friend drew a sharp breath. We stood quietly for a few minutes, enjoying a reverent communion of worshipful thoughts about our Savior. Then without further conversation, we made our way down to the street level. On the way we walked past the small diorama showing the Prophet Joseph Smith kneeling in the Sacred Grove.
As we left Temple Square and took our leave of one another, my friend took me by the hand. “Thank you for showing me that,” he said. “Now I understand something about your faith that I have never understood before.” I hope that every person who has ever had doubts about whether we are Christians can achieve that same understanding.

But then my husband died, and my world changed. In my grief, I began to hope that maybe we would not be separated forever, that somehow we would meet again in our heavenly life.

Although my husband had not believed in God, he was well educated and intelligent. He had read the Bible and knew it very well. He was a good person and gave what he had to others. I had sometimes caught myself thinking that he was better than I.

Several months passed after my husband’s death, and I still could not find comfort. I was advised to go to church to lessen the heaviness in my heart. At a local church, I met a young minister. After telling him a little about myself, I asked him to pray for my husband. But he told me that because my husband had not believed in God and had not been baptized, he could not pray for him. I would not see my husband again, he said. I did not want to believe that, but I could not completely disbelieve it either. The minister took from me my last hope. Instead of getting better, I felt worse.

It sometimes gets really cold and snowy where we live. Sometimes we even get to stay home from school and ride our sleds down a big hill next to our home. One day, when we were getting ready to put on our snowsuits, hats, and gloves, my mother said it was too cold and windy to go outside. I felt grumpy because we had to stay inside. I started complaining, and my mother said, “You need to go up to your room and find something good to do with your time.”
When I got to my room, I thought about what the Savior would want me to do. I decided to memorize the Articles of Faith. When I came downstairs after a few hours, I told my mother, brother, and sisters that I was sorry for being grumpy and that I had memorized each of the Articles of Faith. They were so surprised! I recited each one for them and felt very good that I had put my time to good use.
I think the Savior was happy that I decided to learn more about Him with the extra time I had that morning. I am grateful that He has given me a family and the scriptures to help us learn more about our Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.

Criticism is a necessary part of ballet, Melanie explained. That’s how you become good. The more the better, but it can be devastating to your self-image. “I’m amazed at how people survive without the gospel,” she said, “and without a close family. The second I walk into class I give it 100 percent, but the minute I walk out the door I’m somewhere else. The greatest strength we can have comes from the Lord. It would be difficult to imagine doing anything without his help. One night I was depressed. I was homesick. I wanted to go home and give up. I was too upset to sleep, so I pulled out my patriarchal blessing and read. It made me feel so incredibly good to know my Father had said something to me. We can accomplish anything we want that’s right, if we put our families and the gospel first.”

The day the bad people flew airplanes into buildings and killed lots of people, I said in my bedtime prayer, “Bless all the good people, but don’t bless the bad people.” After I finished my prayer, my mom explained that we need to pray for bad people to help them choose the right. In my next prayer, I said, “Bless all the bad people so they will turn into good people.” I am glad I can pray to help people be good and choose the right.

Because others at the Sunday meetings felt deeply impressed, another service was held Monday morning. Here two more souls were baptized and then confirmed at the water’s edge. At candlelight, to provide a leader for this new cluster of converts, the missionaries ordained Eleazer Nickerson an elder. “Had a good meeting,” Joseph noted. “One of the sisters got the gift of tongues which made the Saints rejoice. May God increase the gifts among them for his Son’s sake.”

The Book of Mormon offers you just the right tools to fix almost anything. Here’s a handy guide to help you know where to look.
When Douglas Holt of Tucson, Arizona, was asked to speak to a Young Women’s group about applying the scriptures in their lives, he asked his 18-year-old daughter Marianne what helped her. They sat down with the family during a home evening and came up with this guide.

A cry from his mother rolled Black Beaver out of his warm bed furs. She stood outside the tepee, facing the mountains and pointing. There on the highest slopes of the tallest mountain, the one that his people considered sacred, was the sign they had waited to see—the wind and sun had shaped the snow into the form of a giant dove in flight. It meant that today he would climb up to search for White Horse, his grandfather, who had been trapped by a late spring blizzard. But how could the old one have survived up there alone for almost two weeks? the boy wondered. There seemed little hope of finding him alive now.
Black Beaver appeared calm as he prepared for the dangerous mission, but his heart hammered and his hands were moist and slippery. Was it the fear of failing, a dread of the unknown, or a combination of both? His younger brothers and sisters watched big-eyed and solemn as their mother handed him a backpack containing food, furs, and a coil of rope. “I—I wish you did not have to go alone,” his mother murmured, touching his dusky cheek.
Black Beaver wished, too, that it were not so. He had told no one, not even his family, about his fear of heights. He felt sure that White Horse had never understood why his eldest grandson refused to climb to the summit to fast and meditate as his ancestors had always done when they were troubled. “It is a place of incredible beauty and peace. It soothes the turmoil in a man’s spirit. Don’t you have faith in the ways of your people? Why do you turn away from the old ways?” his grandfather had asked.
The miserable youth had not replied. There were no words. How could he explain that he was both drawn and repelled by the mountain? He had seen his father and other relatives return from the summit renewed in spirit, a look of awe and serenity on their faces. How he envied them! The experience was one he yearned to share, but he always failed to reach even the timberline. He was not cowardly about other things, but he could not fight the choking panic that tightened his throat and shut off his breath. But could he now, to rescue his beloved grandfather? He wished that he had that much courage!
The youth had hunted on the lower slopes all his life, so he was familiar with the trails and made good time. He had not looked back to wave to his family, wanting to appear braver than he felt. The rising sun was warm on his back, but he dreaded the numbing cold and fierce winds that raked the mountain above the trees. He had heard about the trials necessary to reach the top, including the thin air that made the lungs ache. He pushed back the fear with thoughts of White Horse and climbed faster.
It was noticeably colder as Black Beaver stopped to rest his aching leg and shoulder muscles. He stared up at the snow and remembered his grandfather’s warning, “Never climb the mountain until the melting snow forms an outline of a soaring white dove, or you may be caught in a slide or some bottomless crevasse where the ice never melts. Always skirt the snow and follow the handholds and footholds around the bird’s left wing and you will be safe.”
Safe, the youth thought yearningly, trying not to look down. But it hadn’t been safe for White Horse even though the dove had flown when the old man climbed up for what he expected might be the last time. The raging blizzard had swept across the heights and trapped him. The dove was not visible on the morning they had waited for his return, and it had remained hidden until today. Suppose the bird vanished again in the night!
Black Beaver was hours above the timberline when he made his camp between boulders that blocked winds that tore at him. He looked down at the floor of the valley, hoping to see his family’s cooking fire, but it was too far away. He knew how anxiously they must have watched the mountain all day and it made him feel less lonely. This was the highest he had ever been and he was too numb and too exhausted to be frightened. He fell asleep in the heavy furs that had been too hot during the first part of his climb. Above him the giant white dove seemed to stir its wings as the snow glistened in the light of a full moon.
It was almost noon the next day when Black Beaver saw fresh moccasin tracks edging the snow. Grandfather has survived the blizzard! White Horse lives! thought the boy. Then he shuddered, remembering how many times he had dangled like a spider twirling on its web, out over the sheer drop to the bottom. Despite ancient notches carved in the stone face of the mountain, Black Beaver knew that without the rope he would not have made it to the top. The thin air made him drowsy and confused so that he often lost sight of the footholds his grandfather could follow in the dark. But he had done it and survived, and, somehow, White Horse had survived too.
The dove was disappointing up close. It was nothing more than a huge expanse of deep snow trapped in a vast fissure.
Black Beaver decided to rest for a moment. He was startled a short time later by his grandfather’s voice gently chiding, “Are you going to sit there and doze within just a few feet of the most soul-stirring sight you will ever see?” As the boy moved, White Horse cautioned, “Careful! Don’t leap up or you will go tumbling down into the valley.”
“You look well, Grandfather—for one who has been trapped up here for so long,” Black Beaver said boldly, as the thought occurred to him that he might have been tricked into the climb. He sniffed the air. “I smell food cooking!” he added incredulously. “Or have the heights made me delirious?”
White Horse arose stiffly and motioned his grandson to follow. The old one lumbered along like a bear in heavy fur garments Black Beaver had never seen before. Were they kept here for the final part of the climb? he wondered.
Black Beaver stopped and stared. “A cave! And it is stocked with many supplies. You were never in any real danger!” the boy accused grimly, thinking of his hazardous and needless climb. “You could have survived here for many more weeks or even climbed down, once the blizzards had passed!”
“Yes, but then you might never have seen the world from this mountain height as you longed to do,” White Horse said softly. “This one fear might have remained throughout your life and would probably have led to others. I had to trick you and force you to conquer the fear as my father tricked me so many years ago. I understood your fight more than you realized. I experienced all the same agonies and self-doubts as a youth. Now you have won. Come and eat with me.”
“No. First I must stand on the summit and feel the same beauty and awe as my ancestors,” Black Beaver said decisively. “Now that fear is no longer knotted around my throat like a rope, I am free. I will climb this and many other mountains throughout my life—thanks to the wisdom of White Horse.”

A short time ago an institute director received a letter from a university student posing a problem that in one form or another comes before every Church teacher.
It appears that the student had been converted to the Church, or at least baptized into membership, some three years previously but had come to feel that while Church members profess belief in Christ and love for fellowmen, these beliefs are not being transferred into action.
He mentioned specifically failure to join current movements designed to alleviate conditions in the ghettos of our country, failure to apply Church wealth to help alleviate want in foreign lands, seeming unconcern about blacks, poverty, and unemployment, and lack of action to help stop the war in Vietnam.
Clearly, the Church of Jesus Christ must be concerned with the social problems enumerated, and the concern of this young man is commendable. His spirit is not one to be squelched but one to be directed.

Although Virgilio gave up his governorship to stay true to his testimony, he was able to pass on another legacy to the next generation: that of serving the people by establishing the gospel among them. He lived to see Wilson serve a full-time mission and then return to Guayacana to marry his wife, Ruth, and have children. Some years later, Virgilio died faithful in the Church. His wife, Maria Juana Apa, has lived to witness their son’s calling, in 2014, to serve as branch president in Guayacana.

Another bishop was concerned about the trend he noticed in ward fast and testimony meetings. Members were bearing few testimonies of Christ and His gospel; instead, they were sermonizing, giving travelogues, sharing personal experiences that were not related to the gospel, and talking about family outings and activities. The bishop understood that those topics were important to the speakers. But they were not testimonies of Christ and His gospel. He asked the ward council, “How can we teach the importance of using testimony meeting for testifying of Christ and His restored church without offending our members?”
After a little time and some comments by the sisters, the council suggested that the bishop should teach the members what a testimony is and what it is not. In addition, the council concluded that the quorums and auxiliaries should discuss the purpose of testimony meeting, and home teachers and visiting teachers should review this subject with individual families during their monthly visits. The bishop now reports, “Our testimony meetings are much better. The witness of Christ and His love for us is expressed by the members, and the spirituality of our ward has improved greatly.”

At this point Martin pleaded with Joseph for permission to take the manuscript to Palmyra to show his wife, Lucy, who quite understandably wanted to see some evidence of what was taking up so much of her husband’s time and treasure. Yet, after inquiring of the Lord, Joseph was told twice not to let Martin take the manuscript.6

Desperate to placate the skepticism and increasingly shrill demands of his wife, Martin badgered Joseph again. In agony, Joseph went to the Lord a third time. In response, the Lord told Joseph that Martin could take the manuscript if he would show it only to five designated people and then promptly return it. Reluctantly, Joseph gave the manuscript to him, but only after Martin signed a written covenant to do as the Lord had instructed.7

This began a cascade of events that would bring Joseph as low as anything that would ever happen to him. Shortly after Martin departed, Emma gave birth to a baby boy. She and Joseph named their first child Alvin, a comforting tribute to Joseph’s dearly departed brother, who had died five years earlier. Tragically, rather than fill a void, young Alvin enlarged it when he passed away the day of his birth, June 15, 1828.

As if that were not enough to bear, between the exhaustion of a long and intense labor and the emotional distress of losing her child, Emma moved perilously close to death herself. For two weeks Joseph worried over Emma, nursing her back to health even as he worked through his own grief over baby Alvin. When Emma finally showed signs of stabilizing health, Joseph’s thoughts turned to Martin and the manuscript.8

Sensing Joseph’s anxiety, Emma encouraged him to return to Palmyra to check on Martin and the manuscript. With a visible gloom, he took a stagecoach north. Unable to eat or sleep on the journey, Joseph made it to his parents’ home—still a good 20-mile (32 km) walk through the dead of night from where the stage let him off—only by the steadying hand of a worried fellow passenger (a “stranger”) who took pity on him. 9

After Joseph arrived and finally took a little nourishment, Martin was summoned. He was to join the Smiths for breakfast but did not show up until noon. Walking slowly, he stopped at the gate to the home, got on the fence, pulled his hat over his eyes, and just sat there.10

Finally, Martin made his way into the home. Without speaking a word, he took up his utensils to eat. But before taking a bite, he cried out, “Oh, I have lost my soul!”11

With this, Joseph jumped up and burst out: “Martin, have you lost that manuscript? [H]ave you broken your oath, and brought down condemnation upon my head, as well as your own?”

Martin somberly replied, “Yes, it is gone, and I know not where.”12 (Martin had shown the manuscript pages to others besides the five, “and by stratagem,” Joseph later recounted, “they were taken from him.”13)

Joseph exploded into a wail, crying out: “All is lost! [A]ll is lost! What shall I do? I have sinned—it is I who tempted the wrath of God.” With this, “sobs and groans, and the most bitter lamentations filled the house,” Joseph showing the greatest distress of them all.14

The translation work ceased for a season, and the plates and interpreters were taken from Joseph until September 22—a poignant reminder of his earlier probational period. He also suffered this stern rebuke from the Lord:

“And behold, how oft you have transgressed the commandments and the laws of God, and have gone on in the persuasions of men.
“For, behold, you should not have feared man more than God. Although men set at naught the counsels of God, and despise his words—
“Yet you should have been faithful; and he would have extended his arm and supported you against all the fiery darts of the adversary; and he would have been with you in every time of trouble” (D&C 3:6–8).

Imagine the difficulty of receiving such a revelation. Joseph had just lost his firstborn son. He had nearly lost his wife. And his decision to give Martin the manuscript was driven by an earnest desire to help a friend who was helping him in a sacred work. Yes, however distraught Joseph was, and however dependent upon Martin Harris he thought he was, he had missed one thing God fully expects of His disciples: always trust in the arm of the Lord and not in the arm of the flesh. To Joseph’s everlasting credit, he learned this lesson in such a deep and profound way that he never made the mistake again and, not long after again receiving the plates and interpreters, he began a pace of religious contribution the likes of which the world had not seen since the personal ministry of Jesus Christ. Starting in the spring of 1829, now with Oliver Cowdery at his side, Joseph translated an astonishing 588 pages of the Book of Mormon in what was, at most, 65 working days.15 This is truly blinding speed when compared with his previous efforts. It is also instructive to note that the translation of the King James Bible took 47 trained scholars, working in languages they already knew, seven years to complete.16