Gospel Story Finder

I forgot that winter day, until years later, after Dad had passed away. I had joined the Church, and my husband and I were completing his temple work. As I sat in the Lord’s house, suddenly I could see my dad’s graceful figure on the ice that cold morning. He was smiling at me, coming toward me. Now it was my turn to lead the way, and I could feel my father’s joy.

In the Salt Lake Valley, the sisters continued their ministrations—sometimes in dramatic ways—as Sister Lucy Meserve Smith, wife of Elder George A. Smith, recalls in her Reminiscences. News of the approach of a handcart company came to President Brigham Young as he was conducting October conference in the old Tabernacle. She stated:
“President Young and others were [so] excited and anxious for fear those companies would be caught in the snows in the mountains [that] they could not go on with the Conference. The president called for men, teams, clothing and provisions. … The sisters stripped off their petticoats, stockings, and every thing they could spare, right there … and piled [them] into the wagons to send to the Saints in the mountains.” (Reminiscences of Lucy Meserve Smith, MS, 1886, Historical Department, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Salt Lake City.)

One Sunday evening the family’s home teachers visited. The family was struggling through unemployment at the time, and that night she had only a half cup of rice, a little bit of oil to cook it in, and two small tomatoes. But appreciative of these faithful home teachers, she asked them if they would like to stay for dinner.
“My daughter asked how I could do that,” Sister Daggi recalls. She told her daughter to set the table. Then she went into the kitchen and prayed, “Lord, Thou fed 5,000. I’m asking only for seven.”
“That rice fed seven people,” she testifies.

He was called by President Joseph Smith to edit and publish Nauvoo’s newspaper Times and Seasons and later the Nauvoo Neighbor. He went right to work.
Joseph Smith: Brother Taylor, I have a special assignment for you—to be editor of the Times and Seasons.

My husband Kevin and I were baptized last May. Soon afterward he was called to the position of branch magazine representative. The New Era is a wonderful, uplifting, “good read.” The stories and addresses build our testimonies. Our first child is expected soon, and sometimes when I’m low or moody, I reach for the New Era and my sad heart or dampened spirit finds something inspiring to give it new courage.
Linda GrayFawley, Southampton, England

Sensing a need, I turned the question back to her. “What have you learned?” I asked.
Her lip trembled for a moment. “I’ve learned that what you are saying is true,” she said finally. “Family is what the Church—and the temple—are all about. That’s why I’m here—for my family.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“My father was good to me, but my mother died when I was tiny,” she said. “They were never married. When I was 13, my father died. And then I found the gospel—or it found me.”
Her face brightened. “A few months ago I got back from my mission and began the temple work for my father and mother. I was sealed to them for eternity. For the first time, I am whole. Knowing I am sealed to my family gives me a place to be. The day I was sealed to my parents was, for me, the beginning of eternity. I feel so happy when I am here in the temple.”

The Church wasn’t organized in a church building, but in a log house. The Prophet Joseph Smith had come to stay there with the Whitmer family in 1829. The original house no longer stands, but this log cabin is on the same spot.
3. On April 6, 1830, about 60 people came to a special meeting. Joseph Smith officially organized the Church, and the sacrament was blessed and passed. This was the first sacrament meeting!
4. Right after the meeting, Joseph Smith’s parents and several other people were baptized outside.

Last year I reported to my doctor. We had a full surgery scheduled for my right hip, which would mean a body cast for several months, perhaps even endangering my ability to attend my senior year of high school. We’d known about this for a year, since the last checkup when he told me my right hip was in bad shape.
When my dad and I got in the examination room, my doctor held the X-rays to the light. After looking at them, examining me, and looking back at the X-rays again, he announced, rather astonished, that there seemed to be nothing at all wrong with my hip. He could see no reason to perform the extensive surgery he had planned. He said that, except for some work that needed to be done on my feet, I was in fantastic health and would need no more surgeries.
That was surprising news to someone who had already had eight major surgeries and several minor ones.
It is more than important to note that our family and others had offered many prayers prior to my examination, and many dear friends were praying and fasting.
Sure enough, my hip was healed. I know only Heavenly Father could have accomplished what I experienced. I know I have been healed by a miracle, but a miracle is not always required. Sometimes the greater miracle lies in how we deal with not having a burden eased.

In my senior year of high school I signed up for the marines, and while my classmates were attending graduation exercises, I was in an airplane headed for boot camp at Parris Island, South Carolina. Three months later, I was back home on leave and my parents invited me to attend church.
I had always been a scrappy person, but after graduating from marine corps boot camp, I felt as though I could lick the world and probably would have tried with little hesitation. I accepted my parents’ invitation to attend church services and immediately began preparing my uniform so that I might present an impeccable appearance.
I rose at 0600 that morning to check my uniform to make sure it was in immaculate condition. Sure enough, my brass was so shiny you couldn’t look at it directly, and when you growled at my leather, it was so brilliantly shined, your reflection growled back at you. My swagger would have made John Wayne turn green as we neared the church entrance. I was prepared to lick anyone who met my gaze with anything less than the fear of death. I opened the door and stood aside, letting my mom pass through, and then the rest of the family. I sidestepped through the door so that my shoulders wouldn’t rip the wood from the sides of the door frame. As I corrected my body position to its original stance and faced the occupants of the room, I felt as though I had been slapped in the face.
I was flabbergasted as I stared into a sea of genuinely smiling faces. Everyone present had a light in his eye that I had previously seen in only a few individuals. There was a spirit of happiness and contentment present that was hard for me to comprehend. I think it would have been impossible to provoke one of these fine people into a fist fight.
I never regained my composure after making my way through the tidal wave of handshakes and back pats that met me. I sat meekly through the entire service—like a lamb among wolves, or perhaps the reverse.

Get in the habit of taking advantage of every opportunity to learn and remember. You can learn much from those who love and teach you best—your family. Let me share with you part of a letter I wrote to my grandchildren while on our mission:
“The one ‘pearl of wisdom’ that I might impart to you is how valuable every experience in life is. We have been amazed at how many times, since we have been here, that we have grasped onto some idea or skill we learned along the way. Mom’s ‘basic’ cooking lessons have helped me to creatively use what we have here—carrots, cabbage, onions, potatoes, eggs, rice, and mutton—to prepare nourishing meals.”

A few frontier games can be found represented in popular sports of today, such as track events and wrestling. It appeared, though, that stick-pulling had faded with the prairie grass, faded, that is, until recently.
A revival of stick-pulling started in the St. Louis Second Ward, St. Louis Stake, when a member of the bishopric who was also a Church history buff began to bring sticks to the ward picnics and socials to keep the younger children entertained. The “children” turned out to be most of the male members of the ward. The game caught on, and before long, groups in many wards throughout the Midwest were pulling sticks.
Subsequently, the Joseph Smith, Jr., International Stick-Pulling Championship Coordinating Committee came into being, and on April 24, 1971, as part of the St. Louis Stake YMMIA sports program, the first World Championship Stick-Pulling Contest was held.

Photograph from Getty Images, posed by model
As a 16-year-old convert to the Church living in New York City, I knew that becoming a Latter-day Saint would mean making lots of lifestyle changes.
But making these changes was a lot more difficult than I expected.
For one, New York City is such an exciting place full of diverse cultures, languages, and beliefs, and so different from the small city I grew up in back in Colombia. I was surrounded by so much pressure to act and live a certain way, even though I was still figuring out who I wanted to be and how I wanted to live. I was faced with many options of where my life could go, but really I just wanted to fit in and belong. I was more focused on wanting to look, speak, and act like everyone else.
Suddenly I was also navigating changes like attending church every Sunday, reading scriptures, praying, and giving up coffee. And while some of these changes were easy, others were more complicated—especially the principle of modesty. It was difficult for me to balance my desire to follow Jesus Christ with my desire to express myself the way I always had with how I dressed.
I felt a little overwhelmed as I tried my best to be modest. I worried that I was going to lose friends and that I wouldn’t fit in anymore. But I relied on Christ to give me the courage and faith to keep moving forward.
I studied the principles of the gospel more deeply, prayed for help, and sought greater understanding of Heavenly Father’s laws, which helped me better understand the why behind modesty. And as I was willing to let my heart be converted, I changed not only internally but in the way I carried myself and in my outward appearance as well. As I further embraced the gospel of Jesus Christ, my love for Him and my Father in Heaven grew, and making changes became so much easier.
I’ve realized that Heavenly Father wants us to be modest not just in the way we dress but also in our thoughts, language, and personal conduct. And now I look, talk, and act differently—I carry myself like a disciple of Jesus Christ does, just as President Russell M. Nelson has reminded us to do.1 And my friends and even strangers notice something peculiar about me. I get questions about why I am the way I am. People recognize the joy I have and the Light of Christ in me.
Every time I go back to Colombia (or anywhere, really) to visit, I don’t seem to “fit in” anymore, and it’s great! It’s been amazing to see how simply being modest gives me the opportunity to tell others about the gospel and why I live the way I do—why I follow Jesus Christ.
The gospel is the most precious gift I have been given the opportunity to accept. As I have come to know my Savior better, my desire to truly be like Him has increased. And He continues to give me courage in my journey to find the beauty in being different from the world.
It’s been 10 years since I joined the Church, and I now see that I don’t have to “fit in” with the world, because I am a child of God. I get to experience the beauty of being part of “a peculiar people” (1 Peter 2:9) and the blessings that come with being a disciple of Jesus Christ. I love Him, and striving to follow Him, especially through modesty, has strengthened my relationship with Him.
Because my appearance and behavior reflect my inner commitment to Him, the gospel and its teachings have become the center of everything I do, which brings me so much joy. I love being different, being able to share the Light of Christ with others, and focusing on what really matters most: my faith in Christ and moving toward Him on the covenant path.

Once he took me camping, just the two of us. During the night there was this heavy thunder storm. It didn’t last long, but my sleeping bag got wet. His was dry because he’d remembered to put down a ground cloth. He told me to do it too when we set up camp, but I said it was too much bother. The reason I said that was because the sky was clear then.

Well, after the storm, and my sleeping bag was wet, he didn’t get mad and tell me it was my fault anyway for not putting down a ground cloth. Instead he got out of his sleeping bag and asked me to get in it instead. I asked him what he was going to do, and he said he thought he’d go build a fire and think.

I let him do it because I was too young to realize that it was only two thirty in the morning and nobody in their right mind goes out and sits by a fire for four hours in the middle of the night to think.

My three-year-old granddaughter illustrated the power of innocence and humility to connect us with God. She went with her family to the open house of the Brigham City Temple in Utah. In one of the rooms of that beautiful building, she looked around and asked, “Mommy, where is Jesus?” Her mother explained that she would not see Jesus in the temple, but she would be able to feel His influence in her heart. Eliza carefully considered her mother’s response and then seemed satisfied and said, “Oh, Jesus is gone helping someone,” she concluded.
No pavilion obscured Eliza’s understanding or obstructed her view of reality. God is close to her, and she feels close to Him. She knew that the temple is the house of the Lord but also understood that the resurrected and glorified Jesus Christ has a body and can only be in one place at a time.3 If He was not at His house, she recognized that He must be in another place. And from what she knows of the Savior, she knew that He would be somewhere doing good for His Father’s children. It was clear that she had hoped to see Jesus, not for a confirming miracle of His existence but simply because she loved Him.
The Spirit could reveal to her childlike mind and heart the comfort all of us need and want. Jesus Christ lives, knows us, watches over us, and cares for us. In moments of pain, loneliness, or confusion, we do not need to see Jesus Christ to know that He is aware of our circumstances and that His mission is to bless.

It is interesting to note this formula can be used in almost any type of development. A young man may yearn for bigger muscles. If he persists in a good exercise program, he will find his muscles will develop slowly and sometimes painfully. Many young women want to be able to prepare a lovely meal only to find they must learn several skills, practice them, and perhaps experience some failures before they succeed. They are tried before the proof of their efforts is apparent.

Recently a good bishop in an area of the Church where our members are a small minority introduced me to one of his Aaronic Priesthood youth through a letter. He is one of those who has a purpose. May I in turn introduce him to you by quoting the bishop’s letter? I have changed the names to protect the privacy of those involved.
“The tithes we forwarded last Sunday to your office included, $800 from a young 16-year-old priest in our ward. The background of this contribution is such an outstanding example of dedication to the Church that this letter is written to share it with you.
“On Saturday I received a call from one of our ward members.
“‘Bishop, did you hear what happened to Roger Smith today?’
“‘No,’ I said.
“‘Well,’ the voice continued, ‘he received a call from a local radio station. They asked Roger a question, which he answered correctly. The station then informed him he had just won a 1975 Corvette Stingray.’ The caller hung up.
“My mind flashed back to when I was a youth and how a similar car would likely have influenced me. I started to worry. I could picture the results pulling Roger away from all we hold sacred.
“The next morning in priesthood meeting, one of our adults announced that something special had happened to Roger Smith and asked him to tell us about it. Roger arose and humbly said, ‘Yes, something special did happen to me. A week ago today I was ordained a priest.’ He sat down.
“During the week in our older seminary class, Ronald Green, a young convert of a little over a year, was giving the spiritual thought in devotional. He built his thought around the incident in priesthood meeting.
“‘Maybe Roger was somewhat embarrassed and didn’t want to mention the car. He may have been put on the spot. But he gave us a profound truth we should never forget. No worldly possession can in any way compare to the great honor and blessing of holding the priesthood of God.’
“These incidents thrilled me, but I was still worried about Roger—what would that car do to him?
“I next saw Roger at the church helping prepare for a party for activity night. I said, ‘Hi, Roger. I’ll bet you’re getting a lot of phone calls from the girls at school.’
“‘No, not so many,’ he responded, ‘but a lot from the boys.’
“‘What do they say?’ I asked.
“His reply, ‘They ask me when I am going to take them for a ride in my new car, and I tell them I’m not going to because I’m not going to take the car.’
“‘You’re not?’ I could hardly believe my ears. ‘How come?’
“Almost indignantly he said, ‘Because I’m going on a mission. They told me I could take $8,000 cash instead of the car. I’m going to pay my tithing on it and then put the rest away for my mission.’ What he was saying still didn’t quite sink in until he added, ‘Nearly all of the $8,000 is going to the Church.’
“I wiped a tear from my eyes and felt relief from worry and a strengthened pride in our youth. But I had yet another surprise. I called his mother and dad to tell them how proud I was of their son. The call gave me an opportunity to ask about his reaction when he first realized he had won a car. I had visions of him letting out a yell of worldly ecstasy. His mother said his first reaction was, ‘Now my mission is paid for, but how do you tithe a car?’
“In my calling, I am supposed to inspire our youth. But they are the ones who are constantly inspiring me. Why the Lord is so good as to bless such as I with the opportunity of working with these devoted young people, I’ll never know. Thank the Lord for our wonderful youth!”

My Grandpa Johnny gave me a job to help him clean up around his store and yard. One day I was raking up leaves and found a $20 bill lying on the ground under some leaves. I picked it up and, instead of keeping it, I took it to my grandpa. When I went back to work I had a good feeling inside. The Holy Ghost was telling me that I had done what Jesus would do.

President David O. McKay tells of a singular event that happened to him. After falling asleep, he said he “beheld in vision something infinitely sublime.” He saw a beautiful city, a great concourse of people dressed in white, and the Savior.
“The city, I understood, was his. It was the City Eternal; and the people following him were to abide there in peace and eternal happiness.
“But who were they?
“As if the Savior read my thoughts, he answered by pointing to a semicircle that then appeared above them, and on which were written in gold the words:
“These Are They Who Have Overcome the World—Who Have Truly Been Born Again!
“When I awoke, it was breaking day.” (Cherished Experiences from the Writings of President David O. McKay, comp. Clare Middlemiss, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1976, pp. 59–60.)

(36) Firefighters save paintings of Jesus Christ from a burning stake center.

The highlight of Joseph’s beekeeping adventure was when his hives yielded 60 kilograms of beautiful wild honey. He gave away dozens of jars and received rave reviews. “Even my friend who runs a honey business said that my honey tastes better than what they produce,” Joseph beams. He couldn’t wait to see how his hives would perform in the next harvesting season.
Then one morning, he found an entire hive was empty. The bee colony had left!
Joseph searched the neighbourhood, with no luck. “Sometimes the queen [bee] just decides to leave and take her colony with her,” he explains. “Sometimes you can find them, and sometimes you can’t.”
He knew once a colony has left its hive, it’s unlikely that it will ever return. Also, bees never take over another colony’s hive. For these reasons, beekeepers tend to keep many hives—but Joseph only had two.
Tragically, a couple of months later, his second beehive was also abandoned.
Joseph was heartbroken: “I was so sad. I really felt like I had lost something.”
He hung up his beekeeper suit and went to tell his wife, Atelaite, the bad news. “Our bees are gone,” Joseph said to her. She encouraged him to pray.
From that morning, the couple prayed fervently, every day, for their bees. They would thank Heavenly Father for the privilege of having raised bees, and for the joy the experience had brought them, and then they’d prayed for a miracle—that the bees might somehow return.
After almost two weeks, however, Joseph began to lose faith. He told Atelaite he was ready to take down his empty hives and just purchase new bees in the next season. “These things happen,” he said to her. “Let’s just let nature take its course.”
But Atelaite wasn’t ready to give up. She had the words of Amulek in her heart: “Yea, humble yourselves, and continue in prayer unto him. . . .
“Cry unto him over the crops of your fields, that ye may prosper in them.
“Cry over the flocks of your fields, that they may increase (Alma 34:19, 24–25).
She did not stop praying.
One Saturday morning, Joseph noticed bees hovering above the flowerbeds in his garden. With the eyes of a trained beekeeper, he saw that many were carrying pollen, and that their flight path headed towards his hives.
Joseph hurried to put on his beekeeping suit and went to investigate. Bees swarmed especially around one of his hives, and when he opened it, it was filled with thousands of busy bees.
Joseph shed tears and said a quiet prayer of gratitude. He looked for the queen bee and thanked her for bringing her colony to this hive. Then he ran into the house to tell Atelaite.
“I said, ‘Honey, guess what? The bees have come back!’” He hugged and kissed his wife, and then told her, “Your faith is greater than mine.”
To this day, Joseph doesn’t know if the bees in his hive now are the same bees that left it, or if a new colony took over the hive. As neither situation is likely, he only knows that a miracle happened, and it was preceded by faith.
“I almost doubted and just, let nature take its course,” Joseph says, “but my wife never did. I have learned to never give up on our prayers and to trust in Heavenly Father. A miracle won’t always happen, but when it does, it brings great joy.”