About three weeks ago in my English composition class, we were given the assignment to write about a life changing moment. I decided to write it on my baptism, and the journey that led me to the font. I loved writing this story down. I loved getting it on paper, and it helped me truly remember how far I've come in only the last few years. I hope all of you enjoy this story, and it can do something for you. What that something is... I have no idea, but I hope you get something out of it. so here it is... The full story of my conversion into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints....
Enjoy
My
Conversion
When people think of life-changing events, they think of
first cars, graduations, marriage, first children. At twenty-four years old, I've only accomplished so much, but what I have accomplished has brought forth blessings without measure. That is the story
I am here to tell today: the story of my conversion and baptism into the Church
of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Most people I know were baptized as children
or babies, depending on which church they belonged to. I took a more elongated
route that introduced me to the baptismal font at twenty two. But before we
jump ahead let’s start at the beginning.
Growing up, my family was Baptist. I didn't really
understand what that meant, outside of faith in God and Jesus Christ. I barely
went to church, but knew the scriptures through my grandmother and my parents. I
had a moderate understanding of the faith of my parents, but as a child I lived
for Saturday morning cartoons. Power Ranger, Pokemon, Rugrats, fox kids were the
pinnacle of my childhood weekends.
I
can remember while sitting in front of the television, and seeing commercials,
for “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints”. Usually it was a
commercial featuring a little kid doing something nice or sweet. It would catch
my very short attention span for just a few seconds to make me wonder, “What is
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?” The show would return, and
like a flash of light, the thought would disappear. As a little boy, I didn't think I’d get the answer to the question that had appeared in my mind for those
brief seconds. Nor did I ever get my mind off of anything other than becoming a
Power Ranger, the latter of which never happened. I can remember growing up,
the word “Mormon”, I remember it leaving my mouth or being in the mouths of
others, but there was no real meaning behind it. I had never met a Mormon or at
least I didn't know if I had. To be honest, I didn't know anything more than
the commercials.
Growing up, I did a good job staying out of trouble.
Outside of a few school yard fights, I was a good kid, although very hyper and
lacking an attention span needed to complete most tasks without being reminded.
I competed in varsity football, earned decent grades, and balanced singing in
my school’s choir, while working a part time job in high school. I never
touched drugs or alcohol. I never got in trouble with the law. Like I said, I
was a pretty good kid throughout high school and middle school.
College came in 2007 and I began branching out on my own.
I was again inquisitive. I was again searching for the answers to the questions
of the universe: “why were we here, where did we come from, Republican, or
Democrat, War or Peace”. Influences were
all around, pulling me in every direction. Influences in politics, creation or
origins of man, and in social norms were
abundant in the college environment. The good boy from my earlier years was
starting to slip into a sea of influence that would suck me in for years to
come.
During 2008 and 2009, Mormonism was again on my
television screen. However this time it was portraying a more radical side, the
polar opposite from the commercials from my childhood. Depicted were the
polygamist sects that everyone kind of knew about, but rarely discussed about
except to discriminate against the mainstream Latter-day Saint population.
Shows depicting Mormon polygamy like Big Love & Sister Wives, as well as
the endless coverage of Federal strike force invasions of Polygamist compounds
were all over. You couldn't turn on the news without hearing something new
about it. Of course I was aware there were two sides, unlike everyone else
around me who seemed to mesh together the various sects, but I still didn't know what the Mormon church really was. I wanted to know who the real Mormons
were.
One day, my friend Ron and I were driving down towards DC
to help with a monster truck rally. En route we drove past a building. Although
I didn't know at the time would change my life forever. While on 495, half awake and a little hungry, I peeked my head out the window of his red Chevy pickup
truck and saw one of the most beautiful works of architecture I had ever laid
eyes on. I saw the Washington DC Latter-day Saint Temple. It just rose over the
hill as if it were floating. The white marble brightly shone in the sunlight
and the golden spires rose into the heavens. I turned to Ron and asked, “Dude,
what is that?” He then replied, “It’s the Mormon temple. Haven’t you seen it
before?” My memory jogged back to trips on this highway when I had seen this
temple before, except my childhood memories of those early family trips referred to it as a
castle belonging to some type of royalty stationed here in America. That moment
was just so amazing. I truly felt something staring out the window.
Weeks passed, and the image never left my head. At the
time, I was working at Shoppers, grocery store. I worked along side of a
non-Mormon veteran who had seen the world named Bob. We would talk about family
history and religion and one day he told me about the Mormon temple, that very
same building that I had seen only a few weeks earlier. Bob and I traded
thoughts and I’m sure my curiosity was no longer hidden. He told me about the family
history center near the temple and how this religion possessed the largest
family history database in the world. I found this so amazing, and just so
powerful, because at the time I had never heard of anything like that. My
mother being adopted had always made me interested in family history.
I had a friend at the time named Desiree. I remember
talking about the church one night with her and she told me she was a member. I
was dumbfounded; I couldn't believe that I had found a member, someone who I trusted who was actually a member of this church that had taken over my mind. I
began to ask questions pertaining to polygamy and the history of the church. MY
curiosity again continued to grow.
I soon realized that I needed answers. As someone who
enjoys writing and had grew up wanting to be a military journalist, my natural instinct
was to sit in a library behind computers and books until I answered my
questions. That’s what I began doing between class. It became an obsession. I
saw on the church’s website, Mormon.org, that I could order their scriptures and
DVDs. I ordered a book called the Book of Mormon along with some DVDs. I felt
in my heart I was coming closer to finally having answers. I felt as though I
was coming to an end in my journey. I had no idea that my journey had only just
began.
A few days after placing the order, I sat on my living
room couch drowning out the school day with useless television (ironically
enough it was Big Love), when a knock on
the door came. I got up and opened the door to two young boys about my age in
shirts and ties. I looked at them not knowing who they were. I then noticed
their name tags bore the name of the church that I had so many questions about.
One of the boys said, “Hi we’re with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day
Saints and we have something for you!” He opened his back-pack and handed me a
Book of Mormon. I remember holding the book in my hands. I had no idea what it
was to be honest. I knew answers resided in this blue book. I could feel
answers were in the minds and hearts of these boys. We spoke that afternoon for
about fifteen minutes before we said a prayer and I bid them farewell.
I went back to my couch and glanced through the book. I
really had no idea what it was about, except that it meant a lot to this
curious church I was investigating. I began reading, which quickly bored me. I
preferred what I’d read online. Again my attention span came back to attack me.
Days went by, and the missionaries continued to call. I’d
talk to them on the phone, but I’d always find ways around meeting them in
person. I told my buddies about my new investigation. They voiced their
concerns, and being the peer pressured kid I was, I took their opinions over what
I felt in my heart. I was worried about what others would think of me looking
into this church. I was so scared that I’d lose friends, and family because of
this. I knew wars were being fought
overseas in His name, but I was far from ready for a war with my family and
friends, so I stopped pursuing as openly and directly. I had let fear defeat
me.
The following year, I went away to college, leaving
behind the community college which had become the temple of my investigation.
In that year, I began to party like everyone else. I began disobeying my
parents and descending into a spiral of recklessness and destruction. I was in
this darkness since I had stopped openly researching this church that had
brought so much peace and curiosity. I was now away from my family, and forced to make new friends. Breakups, drama,
and nights barely remembered followed. I was on another sports team which only
drove and increased the recklessness. I had stopped caring and instead of yielding
to my spiritual side and the curiosity that was inside of me, I was now a servant of the more temporal and
destructive things in life. In the summer before leaving for Stevenson
University, my family and I had the biggest blow up I could remember. It left relationships
tarnished and fragile, and I went to college barely mending those
relationships. I had lost any type of faith that had remained from my
childhood. I had no direction outside of wanting to become a Baltimore City
Police officer. I barely went to class, and when I did I barely paid attention.
I showed up to practice and sporting events and parties, which were all I cared
about at the time.
I was an insomniac. I had no sleep pattern whatsoever. I
was writing a novel at the time, and couldn’t have cared less about sleep. Most
homework and writing was done between the hours of midnight and 6AM, as well as
research of this church continued. I again became privately obsessed with
trying to discover these answers to the questions that had been on my mind
before I entered Stevenson. A part of me knew between the wild nights that I
was not in the right and that there was more to life. So I continued
researching up until the day I left for summer vacation. This time, I
researched so privately not even my closest friends knew what I was doing. I never
returned to Stevenson after that year.
After returning home, the fighting with my parents continued.. Looking back, I knew I was the one in the wrong and they only wanted
what was best for me, but I didn't care. I wanted to do what I wanted when I wanted. I wanted to be a man. I moved out of their house summer and in with my
grandparents. I was 22, working a horrible window sales job. I had no real
direction.. I had no idea how to become a cop or the route to take. That summer
changed me. I went through many trials that summer with friends and family,
which led me to the September when I finally admitted enough was enough.
I called my old friend Desiree and told her I wanted to
know about her church. What began as simple curiosity became an urgent desire
to personally know this church.
To help me learn she invited me to the temple on 495. I
remember feeling as we walked the around the grounds and went into the visitor’s
center that I had been there before. In the visitor’s center I was surrounded
by answers and surrounded by this church that I had been curious about since I
was a little boy I was so happy to be there.
A few weeks later she invited to her house to watch a
huge conference being broadcast all over the world. I remember listening to the
words of the leaders of the church. Each word sank deep into heart. I had given
up fear\ and let in desire. I was ready to make a change in my life. That night
I got home and downloaded every Latter Day Saint app there was onto my phone, and continued
researching until I met with the missionaries from my congregation here in
Odenton. Their lessons were so beautiful and relieving. It was an escape.
Eventually after going to church and meeting life long friends, and learning more.
I was eventually baptized and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ
of Latter Day Saints on October 30th 2011. I finally knew why that church in my
childhood commercials was so special
Two years later my life has dramatically changed, I have
direction, faith and overall the peace I had been longing for my whole life..
My curiosity still exists, but I now know where the answers lie. Despite the
challenges I wouldn't change a step of the journey for anything. It’s made me
who I am today! It wasn't easy, but I know now that the Lord had better plans
for me. It has been an amazing ride, that’s far from over. Over the last four
years, I know Heavenly Father directed me through the paths of life to reach
the stage I am at right now. I have a true and honest faith in Christ and the
Lord, and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. I know this church to
be true, and I know the trials I faced were necessary for my development as a
man.
The Artist-
If you'd like to know more about my faith or have any questions, check out these websites
Lds.org
Mormon.org
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