MY CONVERSION STORY

 MY CONVERSION STORY

 

“I am a convert.”  Bruce R. McConkie tells us in his book, Mormon Doctrine, that a “convert is one who puts off the natural man, yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit, and becomes “a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord . . . becoming as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.”  WHEW!  Incase you hadn’t noticed, “submission” is a difficult thing for me – yet I have been as they say “born again” through my conversion because Bro. McConkie goes on to explain that a conversion consists in changing one’s views or beliefs to conform (that’s another hard word) to a pattern of thinking.

         

 I’m not so sure I ever “changed” my beliefs . . . instead I would say that I found something to believe!  Mormon Doctrine also tells us that the “convert not only changes his beliefs, casting off the false traditions of the past and accepting the beauties of revealed religion, but he changes his whole way of life” - - - and this is why I qualify to be a convert.

         

I grew up without “organized religion” in my home, but there was a strong belief in God.  I remember as a young child praying regularly because it made me feel good and it comforted me many times.  My father was an alcoholic and I turned to God for support – I needed someone to talk to, it was too embarrassing to confide in a friend about such an ugly thing as a drunken, often out of work father.  My mother was a hard working, patient, and very private woman.  We never discussed the problem, everyone “pretended” things were different then they were.  I knew early on that family life was supposed to be different and I had faith that I would someday have the family that I always dreamed about.  Through my prayers, the Lord blessed me that I would recognize goodness and truth when I saw it and hold fast to it.

         

I can look back now and see the Gospel seeds that were planted in my life.  I grew up in a rural area of California that had a strong Mormon community.  My second grade teacher, my fourth grade teacher, my seventh grade teacher, and my eighth grade teacher were all LDS, and so were the music teacher, & my principal.  (I think he made a practice of hiring BYU graduates.)  Many of my friends were Mormon, too, but NONE of them ever told me about the gospel, or invited me to church.  I admired them and looked up to them and realize now that their examples helped to set the stage for my willingness to accept the gospel by the “little seeds they planted.”

         

In junior high school, a Baptist friend fellowshipped me and I went to church with her family every Sunday.  I loved that experience and I expressed a desire to be baptized and become a member of that congregation.  My mother was agreeable, but my father objected because he was raised in a “different religion” (This was really the first time I noticed that there were different religions.  I didn’t think it mattered to God which church you went to as long as you were going to church . . . it just felt right to be trying to be a better person and to worship the Lord.)  So feeling an “obligation” to expose me to the “right” religion, my father decided that we would all go to church . . . together as a family.  It was pretty incredible, I didn’t really care what church I was at, if they talked about the Lord and doing good, I was happy!  Unfortunately, the family church thing didn’t last long, and my father reluctantly agreed to allow me to be baptized a member of the First Missionary Baptist Church that my friend belonged to – (FELLOWSHIPPING really works, no matter who is doing the missionary work!)

         

A series of personal tragedies challenged my faith and I became very disillusioned with CHURCH – never God, but many of the big life questions hit me at a young age.  The first tragedy was with my friend and new church family.  I went to Church with them every Sunday and after church we had a tradition of going out to dinner at this neat little restaurant.  Well, one Sunday my grandmother was visiting from out of town so I didn’t get to go to church.  On the way home from dinner, my friend’s family was in a terrible car accident.  My friend was severely burned over 90% of her body and her little sister was killed.  It was very sobering for me to realize that if it weren’t for my grandmother’s visit, I would have been in that accident with them.  (Why me?) The following year my dad took off and left my mom with a lot of bills.  We lost our house and had to move.  I was very bitter and it took me years to understand his “illness” and to forgive him.  (Why me?)  Then one of my brothers was killed in a car accident.  (Who am I?  Why am I here?  What happens to us when we die?)

 

And then there was this boy – this gorgeous Mormon boy – a stake president’s son.  I was very smitten . . . and he was sooooo nice (and cute) and his family was sooooo nice (and he was sooooo cute) and he was different than the boys I had dated.  He didn’t swear, he didn’t smoke or drink, and he went to church every morning (seminary) before he came to pick me up for school.  But he never told me about the gospel or invited me to church.

         

One day I was at a girl friend’s house and she had a Book of Mormon sitting on her dresser.  I remember how shocked I was and I asked her, “Are you a Mormon?”  (She certainly didn’t act like one!)  She said yes, but they didn’t go to church any more and said that I could have the book because they had a bunch of them.  I kept it and I began reading it.  I read through the “tree of life” vision that very first night.  I didn’t let anyone know that I had it and I was well into King Benjamin’s address when the missionaries showed up on my doorstep.  I remember my Mormon boyfriend just so happened to be there when the Elders “tracted” me out and I looked at him suspiciously – “he promised that he didn’t send them” – so I suspected that his dad, President Richards (LeGrand Richard’s nephew), had sent them.  He probably decided his son was spending too much time with me (being the non-member heathen that I was) so he needed to make sure that I learned about the Mormons.  It was actually kind of fun to see the look on all of their faces as they began to teach me the first discussion.  I pretty much led the discussion because I had already read the account of the three witnesses and the Joseph Smith story for myself.  I knew the Book of Mormon was true by the time I had finished the first chapter.  The spirit of the book has always spoken out strongly to me.

         

The Richard’s family fellowshipped me, “adopted me,” taught me, and most importantly loved me and showed me what kind of family I wanted to have someday.  I was a golden contact but I was reluctant to make that commitment to be baptized.  I wanted to make sure that I was in love with the gospel and not just a cute little Mormon boy.  I didn’t want people to think that I was joining the church because of him.  And I was very worried about my family.  I didn’t want to alienate them.  After some time I was finally baptized by that cute little Mormon boy and confirmed by his father, President Richards, in November 24, 1973.

         

The timing was perfect for me to join the church – so many changes are happening in life at that time.  I had just finished high school and was ready to get on with my “REAL” life.  Joining the church gave me a roadmap – I had a new direction to focus on.  I loved the family life that the church presents and I desperately wanted to be a part of a real family, one who works together to do what is right.  So I set out with a purpose for the first time in my life.  The gospel gives us meaning – keeping the commandments gives us guidelines to live by – the plan of salvation makes sense of an otherwise futile existence.  I felt secure in knowing that purpose and I have never doubted that God has a plan for me.  The gospel taught me who I was, why I was here, and where I wanted to go.  My conversion did not change my life . . . it gave me one!

         

Well, I went to BYU and that cute little Mormon boy went on his mission and when he came home, things didn’t work out for us – but I knew for sure then that I was in love with the gospel and not him!  His family seemed pretty disappointed that things didn’t work out for me to become a member of their eternal family - but when it came time for me to be married in the temple, they were all there for me, and his mother escorted me through the temple when I received my own endowments.

         

I’d like to say that my life has been perfect ever since that day that I was baptized, but we all know that Satan works hardest on those of us who know the truth.  Life’s little tragedies continued to visit me – but now I had the answers, or I at least knew where to find them!  When confronted with the face of adversity, tempting me to throw it all away, it was the strength and promise of the gospel that helped me to hang on to my life.

         

My conversion may not be all that unique - I wasn’t visited by an angel like Alma the younger.  I didn’t have to give up anything for the gospel.  I wasn’t persecuted for it.  But I have heard the Spirit of the Lord beckoning me to “Come Unto Christ” and it is my testimony that it is by living His gospel that we can find happiness no matter what life brings us.  The challenge is given to all of us in 3 Nephi 9:13 & 14 – “Will ye not now return unto me and repent of your sins, and be converted, that I may heal you?  Yea, verily I say unto you, if ye will come unto me ye shall have eternal life.”

         

I have so much to be grateful for…I am so grateful to those missionaries who were patient with me and taught me the discussions – and to those members who planted the seeds so that I would recognize the truth when it was time for the harvest.  I am grateful for repentance and the atonement – to know that when I mess up, the price has already been paid if I will accept His sacrifice for me – there is NOTHING too big for the Lord to fix!