Gospel Story Finder

A young man, a few months out of college, got a job with an insurance company. He was full of enthusiasm and vigor—determined to sell insurance to all he met, including the farmers. He walked into a farmyard one lovely autumn morning and noticed an old farmer across the yard, somewhat stooped and bent, looking out over his field of grain. The salesman briskly walked over to the farmer and said, “Look up, my good man, there’s much to live for.”
The elderly farmer straightened up the best he could and replied: “Young man, you see that beautiful field of wheat?” The salesman acknowledged that indeed it was beautiful. “Do you notice that some of the heads are bent?”
“Yes,” Said the youth, “that’s right; they are.”
The old farmer said, “Those are the ones with the grain in them.”

I love life. But in all honesty, life can be so hard at times. There have been many moments in mine when I have been desperate for reassurance that things are going to work out when the odds were against me. Having challenges like chronic illnesses, anxiety, and difficult family circumstances has made me feel hopeless at times. I’ve often longed for miracles that seem impossible.
However, it’s this truth from President Russell M. Nelson that I constantly cling to with a vice-like grip: “Faith in Jesus Christ is the greatest power available to us in this life. All things are possible to them that believe [see Mark 9:23].”3
Faith is the basic principle of the gospel—and I thought I had most of this building block figured out when I reached young adulthood. But the way President Nelson has taught about faith has completely changed my perspective of this “greatest power.”
He has taught me that choosing faith changes everything about life. And it does for me every day. His teachings that coincide with faith, like letting God prevail,4 increasing spiritual momentum,5 overcoming the world,6 and being a peacemaker7 have transformed my testimony and my life. President Nelson’s words never fail to give me hope, bring me peace, and remind me of Heavenly Father’s love when nothing else can. When I remember his words, they enable me to keep moving forward with faith.
Chakell Wardleigh Herbert, Lead Writer for YA Weekly

There was a time in my life when I was less active in the Church. Outings and beach parties were my Sabbath priorities. At that time, the only link I had with the Church and the gospel of Jesus Christ was the Tambuli (English), which my mother would bring home every month. As I looked through the pages of the magazine, I found it had rich, spiritual messages, testimonies, and stories. I loved to read the uplifting messages of the First Presidency and the testimonies of our brothers and sisters all over the world. As I read through each issue, it made me feel closer to the Church and to our Heavenly Father.
The Tambuli is one instrument that brought me back to the Church. I’ll never tire of reading this magazine. Now I am actively engaged in the Church and all its activities, and I still look forward to our monthly copy of the Tambuli.
Sonia P. AntiqueñaIloilo City Ward, Iloilo Philippines Stake

Mine was the privilege to know rather intimately President J. Reuben Clark Jr., who served for so many years as a member of the First Presidency. As I assisted him in the preparation for printing his monumental books, priceless lessons were learned. One day while in a somber, reflective mood, President Clark asked if I could arrange for the printing of a picture suitable for framing. The picture was to feature the lions of Persepolis guarding the ruins of a crumbled glory. President Clark wished to have printed with the picture—between the decaying arches of a civilization that was no more—a number of his favorite scriptures, chosen from his vast knowledge of holy writ. I felt you would wish to know his selections. There were three—two from Ecclesiastes and one from the Gospel of John.
First, from Ecclesiastes: “Fear God, and keep his commandments: for this is the whole duty of man.”
Second, “Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity.”
Third, from John: “And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent.”

After the collapse of my father’s catering business, my family faced a serious financial situation. I remember my mother coming home with tears in her eyes, not wanting to tell us what was wrong even after I asked her what the problem was. Soon we had to move into a small one-room apartment because that was what we could afford.
Before then, the Christmas season had always been a time of intense cooking, new clothes, parties, visits to interesting places, and gifts to be shared and received. My mum had a knack for being, as we called her, “Mother Christmas.” She loved to give, and each Christmas she would enthusiastically and lovingly share with those around her. As we got older, thinking of others more than we thought of ourselves became a trait that we also tried to develop.
But that year we did not know what to do. Mum became concerned because it would be our first Christmas outside of our own home. She worried because there was nothing she could think of to share with others. However, we encouraged her because we knew that we could, in our own small way, do something to spread the spirit of Christmas.
Still, we were barely getting by, and we were also struggling to keep the peace in our new surroundings. Our landlady was not a Christian, and she was upset with us because we would wake up early to have family prayer and sing hymns. Our singing would awaken her because our room adjoined her room. Often she complained, so we tried to sing softly and not disturb her. When she saw that we weren’t going to stop having our morning family prayers, her complaints gradually ceased.
Then a thought occurred to my dad. He felt that we should sing Christmas carols to our landlady as our Christmas gift to her. Everyone was thrilled with the idea—except for me. I strongly objected, reminding my family of the complaints she had made over our family prayers. I suggested that we sing for someone who would appreciate it and not for her.
But my dad insisted, explaining that it would be an avenue for us to show her that we were her friends despite belonging to different religions. I had no choice but to join my family in choosing and practicing carols to sing for her.
On Christmas Eve we stood at her door and knocked. She did not open the door, and I was about to get angry and remind my dad of our wasted effort. But as I looked around, I saw that all the members of my family were smiling—they were happy about what we were doing. I felt a desire within me to experience that same feeling.
Eventually the landlady opened her door, and for a moment she did not know what to do. My dad quietly told her that we would love to sing for her and that, if it was all right, we would love to come inside her apartment. She stepped aside, and we went in. We sang all the Christmas songs we could remember—both the ones we had rehearsed and ones we had not. Soon there was a wonderful feeling in the room. Although we knew that she might not understand the meaning of the words, she smiled as we sang. She also told us that she had been feeling lonely and seeing us together made her long for her own family. Before leaving, we wished her a merry Christmas and a happy New Year. She thanked us, and we went back to our room.
As I was trying to fall asleep that night, I pondered on what had happened. It occurred to me that a real Christmas gift is not necessarily store bought or even homemade; it is actually the attitude and the desire we have to do what we can to make our fellow human beings happy. I realized that the greatest gift we can give at Christmastime doesn’t require a lot of money; instead, it is a gift of love.
That night I knew that my family had felt the spirit of Christmas by offering a small service to a lonely neighbor.

Janel E., 18, Washington, USA
A roommate once asked me how I could believe in something I could not see. I answered that it was because I can feel the Holy Ghost, who testifies that God knows me, and this increases my faith and brings peace to my soul. I cannot see Him, but I know He loves me because I have faith and I feel His Spirit.

—Someone else was impressed with the lost money, too—the girl who lost it. She had been encouraged by her LDS friends to join them at Chiemsee and was dismayed when her funds for the entire activity disappeared. Her roommates helped her to search, had prayed with her, and had come to the desk to see if the clerk could offer any suggestions.
“Twenty dollars?” he said, trying to hide his grin. “Why, yes, someone turned it in just five minutes ago. …”

I had an experience that illustrates this truth. My wife was very ill. I was in Provo at a Scouting affair—I don’t recall what it was now—and I had promised her that I would come home by six o’clock that night. I had left food at the side of her bed so that she could have something to eat, because she couldn’t get off the bed—she wasn’t able—and I had to leave her alone.
Things took place in Provo so that I didn’t get away until eleven o’clock that night, and I was worried as I headed for home. The roads in those days weren’t like they are today; one had to pass through every town along the way. I passed through Salt Lake at midnight. Going north on the highway—the moon was full; the light was bright; I could see as easily as in daylight; and I was the only person on the road—I went quite rapidly until I got to Farmington Junction where I was to turn off to go up over the mountain road toward home. I turned off on that road, and I really hit it up. I had that car going 70 miles an hour, which was good for those days over that road, and I whipped past the road going over to Hill Field, and then went down into Weber Canyon. I got about halfway down the hill when through the rear view mirror I saw the flashing red light. The patrolman had been hiding up Hill Field road. So I pulled to a stop and got out. (One always wants to get out of his car when a policeman comes, and hold out his hands so the policeman can see that one is not armed—at midnight, anyway!) It was now nearly one o’clock.
So I walked back a few yards and stood there, and his headlights picked me up, and he came to a stop about thirty yards away. He got out of his car and came up to me. He said, “May I see your driver’s license and your car registration.” So I got the car registration, and he took a look at it—he didn’t bother to look at my license.
I said, “I suppose you are arresting me for speeding.”
He said, “Yes, you were going faster than 60 miles an hour.”
And I said, “I was going faster than 70 miles an hour.”
I said, “Well, give me the ticket. I’ve got to get home; my wife is ill and helpless. I’ll pay the fine, but let me go.”
He said, “Well, I’m not going to give you a ticket. I’m going to give you a warning ticket so you won’t do it again. This will make it so you will not have to go to court, but if you do it again, of course, then they’ll collect on both counts.”
I couldn’t imagine why he had given me just a warning ticket. He wrote out the ticket and handed it to me; then he smiled, held out his hand, which a police officer seldom does, and said to me, “My name is Bybee. I used to be one of your Scouts at Camp Kiesel.”
All the rest of the way home, every time the wheels turned, I said to myself, “What if I’d lied to him—what if I’d lied to him—what if I’d lied to him.”

We are the parents of six rambunctious boys. Over the past 17 years, we have learned that the Spirit often uses our own experience as parents to teach us how Heavenly Father works with His children.
Several years ago, Jessica heard our boys playing upstairs. As she listened more closely, she heard the distinct sound of a writing utensil scribbling on a wall.
She called, “Boys … is someone coloring on the wall?”
After three seconds of silence, the culprit called back, “Nooooooo.” She then asked him to bring down the writing utensil.
“OK, Mama,” he said, skipping up to her and willingly, even happily, giving her a pencil.
He kept his other hand, which was holding a permanent marker and was in plain view to Jess, hidden behind his back.
After sitting with this little boy, listening to him, correcting him, and trying to help him, she had this clear impression:
“Why do I sometimes try to hide my own sins and shortcoming from an omniscient, loving Heavenly Father?”

Young John was also prepared to accept the restoration of the gospel through other spiritual experiences while yet in his youth. As a very young boy he had seen in the heavens an angel holding a trumpet to his mouth. When Elder Pratt announced that God’s angel had indeed restored the gospel to the earth, John remembered this manifestation of his youth and recognized it had been given to him as a sign of the truth he would receive so many years later. And this was not the only spiritual manifestation he had received, for he reported that “often when alone, and sometimes in company, I heard sweet, soft, melodious music, as if performed by angelic or supernatural beings” (Life of John Taylor, pp. 27–28).

I have invited a special young man to assist me with my presentation tonight. I would like to introduce Terry Haws, my oldest grandson.
Terry, how old are you?
Terry: Twelve.
What special event has happened in your life this year?
Terry: I received the Aaronic Priesthood and was ordained a deacon.
Terry, again I would like to congratulate you on the preparation you have made in your life to be worthy of receiving this great gift. As I stood in the circle on that special occasion and listened to the blessing you received from your father as he conferred the Aaronic Priesthood upon you and ordained you a deacon, I was impressed with the special privilege this is in your young life.
I wanted to have a little grandfather-to-grandson chat right afterward, but unfortunately I had an appointment with an airplane. So I’m taking advantage of this assignment to have our little visit. Let’s make it public just in case what we talk about might be of benefit to other young bearers of the Aaronic Priesthood listening to us tonight. All right?
Terry: Okay.

Another young married woman, concerned about religion, had lived in New York for years, but she had never gotten around to seeing the pageant until this year. When Samuel the Lamanite called out the destruction of the City of Zarahemla with thunder, lightning, and fire to back him, this sister, in her ninth month, felt great conviction within herself. She had her child that night, and the missionaries came in response to the referral card she had filled out. Had she not gone that night before she had the child, she feels she might never have seen the missionaries. Coincidence? Those who have been at pageant know that there are very few coincidences attached to it.

Not only have the youth learned to appreciate service at The Ranch; they have had fun at the same time. For example, Jeff Eastwood, 18, earned the distinction of being the first one thrown in the lake. With a smile on his face, he’ll tell you that he really jumped in. On the serious side, he said he’s learned an important lesson by participating in youth conference. Jeff said he is grateful that his parents attended, too. “I’ve learned to live with adults in a different environment. My parents are interacting with my friends, and I’ve learned to act the same way in front of my family as I do in front of my friends. I’m being myself.”

Anna was a poor peasant girl in long ago Salzburg, but she was a happy girl. An excellent seamstress, she loved to make beautiful clothes for her family.
The rich women of the town discovered the beautifully embroidered clothes Anna made and demanded that she make similar clothes for them. In return they paid her well.
One day the queen commanded Anna to make a dress for her because the prince, her son, was coming home. What happened to Anna and the women of Salzburg provides delightful reading. The beautifully colored and detailed illustrations make this book a treasure.

“Why do people apostatize? You know we are in the ‘Old Ship Zion.’ We are in the midst of the ocean. A storm comes on, and, as sailors say, she labors very hard. ‘I am not going to stay here,’ says one; ‘I don’t believe this is the “ship Zion.”’ ‘But we are in the midst of the ocean.’ ‘I don’t care, I am not going to stay here.’ Off goes the coat, and he jumps overboard. Will he not be drowned? Yes. So with those who leave this Church. It is the ‘Old Ship Zion.’ Let us stay in it.”

As I have often taught, the Lord inspired another monumental step in preparing the world for the Restoration of His saving gospel when a German goldsmith, Johannes Gutenberg, adapted printing technologies first introduced in China to produce the printing press in 1439 or 1440.7

Gutenberg was an instrument in the Lord’s hand to increase knowledge, understanding, and religious faith in the world.8 His invention ignited a printing revolution that changed the world forever by facilitating the wide circulation of ideas and information that became “agents of change.”9

Scholars estimate that about 30,000 books existed in Europe at the time Gutenberg published the Bible on his printing press. Within 50 years after his invention, more than 12 million books were found in Europe.

The Protestant Reformation utilized Gutenberg’s invention to spread its ideas and to bring the Bible to the common people in ways that no one of an earlier generation ever could have imagined.

The printing revolution fed and was fed by an increase in literacy and a growing thirst among the common people of Europe to read the sacred words of scripture in their own languages.

Columbus was a dreamer,
A boy who watched the sea
And thought, as ships sailed out of sight,
How round the earth must be!
Columbus was a doer,
A man who went to sea
And proved the thoughts he had were right,
His dreams, reality.

My mother once said of me, “Tommy, I’m very proud of all that you’ve done. But I have one comment to make to you. You should have stayed with the piano.”
So I went to the piano and played a number for her: “Here we go, [here we go] to a birthday party.”1 Then I gave her a kiss on the forehead, and she embraced me.

One of the first things I did as a member of the Church was read the Book of Mormon. Reading it helped strengthen my testimony of the Prophet Joseph Smith. I learned that if the Book of Mormon is the word of God, then Joseph Smith is a true prophet of God and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true Church upon the earth. I shared my beliefs with my family, and a few years later my mother, brother, and sister were baptized.

The Kaohsiung Seventh Branch at the Taipei Taiwan Temple in December 2001.
In 2000 we were called to serve as branch president and Primary president of the smallest unit in the Kaohsiung Taiwan Stake. We had about 20 people at sacrament meeting, including our young family, four active elders, and the missionaries. We later sent out two elders on missions, trusting that the Lord would replenish our branch.
As we worked with our branch, we remembered President Gordon B. Hinckley’s (1910–2008) counsel that every convert needs “a friend, a responsibility, and nurturing with ‘the good word of God.’”1 We felt impressed that our new members should quickly be given callings so they could grow by serving. The missionaries introduced us to each investigator, and within two weeks of each of their baptisms, they received a calling. They developed friendships as they served with other members.
Within a month, every newly baptized brother received the Aaronic Priesthood, and each blessed and passed the sacrament. We also prepared them to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood by the next stake conference.
New elders were taught how to perform ordinances, and then these elders taught the newer elders. We believed in learning by doing and in retaining learning by teaching. Branch members were responsible to model and mentor, teach and train, and sustain and support each other.
We used home and visiting teachers, family home evenings, ward activities, and potlucks to fellowship new converts. They were nurtured with the word of God through Sunday and weekday religious instructions. Institute grew from 2 to 25 students. To further nurture our small branch, we attended and served in the Taipei Taiwan Temple every month—a 10-hour round-trip by bus. Normally, our stake struggled to fill a second temple bus. As our branch grew and families prepared for their temple blessings, we set a goal to fill our own bus. Twice that first year, while the rest of the stake filled one temple bus, our small branch filled a second one. Soon after, the stake asked each ward to fill one temple bus at least once a year.
By the second year, our convert retention increased from 30 percent to more than 90 percent, and our sacrament meetings grew to about 100 people, including 25 active elders. Our branch became a ward, and our old building was renovated into a new chapel.
The smallest branch had become the strongest ward in the stake because every convert had been blessed with friends, callings, and nurturing with the word of God.