My Journey...

This is part of a talk that I gave on 06-08-2008.

My Journey...

I am a convert to the Church of Jesus Christ, Latter-day Saints. I became a member in the summer of 2003. My conversion has been and continues to be an exciting journey. I was born into a family that had a strong testimony of the Savior. We went to church twice on Sundays and every Wednesday evening. We said prayers before we ate and we were encouraged to read the Bible before bedtime. When I was a pre-teen I attended Bible Bowls, competitions that were held around the state. Hundreds of kids would participate. A book from the Bible would be given to study for an entire year. The children would gather for a day and take strenuous written and verbal tests. I remember studying and learning. I remember praying every night for wisdom. I wanted to comprehend and understand what I was reading. I had a strong testimony during those years. I knew without a doubt that God was watching over me and that I had a friend, Jesus. (This a pic of my friends and I studying for a Bible Bowl.)

Around that same time, feelings were stirring up in my mother. She was no longer satisfied with our church. She began to investigate other churches and against my father's will, she would bring me along with her. It wasn't long until my mother and I became members of another church. This church had a youth program similar to Young Women. Unfortunately, due to my age I was only able to be in this group for one year. I was so hungry for knowledge that I completed the 4 year program in just one year. It consisted of service, reading and memorizing scriptures, and learning things such as sewing, cooking, and taking care of children. I thrived. I loved the challenge. I loved the learning and education. I gave my heart to Jesus, was baptized, and was confirmed. I had a testimony that I never dreamed could be taken away.

One day it seemed like my world turned upside-down. We were sitting in a church meeting. A missionary from Africa was speaking. At the end of the service, he stated that the Holy Spirit was telling him someone in the audience was hurting spiritually and emotionally. He hoped that person would come speak to him. I remember waiting in the foyer after the services. I assumed my mother was talking to whoever it was that was depressed; after all, my mother had her degree in psychology. In the car ride home, my mother let me know that she had been thinking of suicide.

From that day on life at home was different. My mom would go into hospitals for extended stays. My dad started working long hours to pay for the doctors, medication, and hospitals. My sister, my brother, and I were left alone to try and sort things out. Personally, I began to question just about everything.

When my mother wasn't in the hospitals, we would continue to attend church. One day that same missionary came up to me and said, "Kayla, I know God has something special for you. He only gives difficult trials to the young ones that he knows can handle it. He's preparing you for something great. Never forget that he loves you." It wasn't long until my mother became unsatisfied with this church, too. She tried a few more religions. I remember her taking me to classes on reincarnation, new age, vegetarianism, and yoga. By that time, I think she had given up on religions.

During this time I was a freshman and had found my first boyfriend. He went to a church in our neighborhood. I started going with his family. I attended Sunday and Wednesday's services. They had a youth sports program after school. I attended the summer camps. I really enjoyed it. I would invite all my friends; however, my testimony was beginning to fade. Church activities began to be more of a social outing than a spiritual one. I really started to have my own doubts. If my mom, the one person that I thought should know there was a God, no longer believed then what did I believe. I continued to attend church just because it was fun but I no longer had my heart in the right place.

Around my sophomore year, in high school I stopped going to church. I still claimed to be a Christian but my spirit wasn't into it. I started hanging out with non-Christians and before you know it I was acting like a non-Christian myself and I no longer had a testimony.
Through the years, I had glimpses. I think deep down I carried a small bit of hope. I would pick up a book here and there. I would read something that agreed with my beliefs. I would recall what that missionary once told me. I would have feelings that I knew someone was taking care of me.

At one point, I attended a New Age Church that stressed being quiet, meditating, getting in tune with the Spirit. They believed everyone was connected. They opened my mind and got me to thinking, again. I had a longing and wanted to know more. I attended this church off and on while I attended college. While in college I took classes in psychology, biology, chemistry, sociology, and many more sciences. I began to question if a God even existed. I became very depressed. Everything felt useless and I felt all alone. I was confused. My heart was telling me one thing while my brain was trying to tell me the opposite. That was probably one of the darkest moments in my life. I began to question my entire life. Why was I here? Why was I born? What was the purpose? If there was no God then what was all this for? It didn't make any sense.

But there were those small glimpses of hope that kept surfacing. The words from that missionary would not leave me alone. At the time I had a psychology professor that I looked up to and respected. I enjoyed her lectures so much that I took her for 3 more classes. Over the next few semesters, we became friends. She took me under her wing. We would have long talks about all sorts of things. We would talk about our mothers, our children, our beliefs, and everything in between.

One day there was a group of us hanging around talking after class. We were going to get a bite to eat. We had asked our professor to join us but she declined. Another student inquired some more and found out the professor was fasting. We then got into a discussion about religion. The professor stated she was Mormon. One of the other students asked several questions and the professor continued to answer her. I didn't say anything; just listened. I had always believed the Mormons belonged to a cult; at least that is what I was taught. After that day, I don't remember the topic of religion ever being brought up, again.

One day, when I was no longer her student, we met for lunch. I don't remember exactly what we were discussing but I remember telling her that I had given up on churches and I no longer believed in religions. That's when she asked me if I believed in many of the things we had discussed. I said yes. Then she stated that her church shared the same beliefs. I tried to let what she said go and dismiss the topic.

It would be another year and 15 years since I had first stopped going to church. July 4th, 2003 on a Friday night, my children were at their dad's. I was all by myself without any plans. I was bored and feeling all alone. I remember going to the movies without anything in particular to watch. I just wanted to get out and not be by myself. I remember sitting there in the theater surrounded by people and feeling so alone. That night, I kept hearing this voice telling me to call the professor and ask her more about her church.

The next day, I looked up her number in the phone book, called her, got the meeting times, and directions to her ward. She told me that there were churches closer to me. I told her that I would be happy to drive that far and that I would see her on Sunday.

I was so nervous that Sunday morning. I knew deep down that I was awakening something within me. I knew that I believed in God and I knew by going to church that I was admitting it. I knew by going to a church that I already knew someone, I would be held accountable. The drive was an hour long. I started attending her ward every Sunday. I began taking the missionary discussions at her house. I read the entire Book of Mormon in just a week. I knew what I was reading was true. It felt as real as the Bible and the other books that I had read and had based my beliefs on. I knew that I was being led to this knowledge. A month later, I was baptized and confirmed a member. I then started attending my own ward. Since then, I have had callings in the Young Women, Primary, and Relief Society.

I'm not going to lie to you and say that believing and having faith are easy for me. I often times struggle. Those are the days that I have to withdraw, be quiet, pray and meditate. The ancient prophet Jeremiah spoke of the law of God, the gospel, being written in our hearts. He quotes the Lord speaking about us, His people in the latter days: "I will put my law in their inward parts, and write it in their hearts; and will be their God, and they shall be my people." (Jeremiah 31:33) So often, life becomes so full and hectic with the worldly things that it's hard to hear that still, small voice that Elijah speaks about in 1 Kings 19:11 & 12. "And he said, go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord. And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake: but the Lord was not in the earthquake: And after the earthquake a fire: but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.

When did my conversion begin? My conversion began when I was just 12 years old lying on my bed with a small lamp reading my Bible. God saw to it that I have always had the inspirational books, the encouraging people, and the stimulating doctrine in my life at the right time. He introduced knowledge, thoughts, and wisdom at the appropriate times of my life. When did my conversion end? It hasn't. Conversion is a process; a journey, a path; one that I will continue to travel until I have become like the Savior. In 3 Nephi 27:27, Jesus states, "… Therefore, what manner of men ought ye to be? Verily I say unto you, even as I am."

I challenge you not only to take this journey with me but to be like my professor and encourage your brothers and sisters to join us. Let's be as King Benjamin's people when they declared, "The Spirit of the Lord Omnipotent, has wrought a mighty change in us, or in our hearts, that we have no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually" (Mosiah 5:2).