10 Commandments the COOL way!

Because we had decided not to have our son baptized we didn't bother teaching him anything about it or the church. So who did we call when we wanted him baptized? The Elders!! They've been meeting with us and teaching our son all about the church. We've LOVED it! Tonight was our favorite night so far. They taught him the 10 commandments in a very creative way! Each commandment has a hand signal.

Part 5 - I prayed for an Angel

Last night I was looking through my Pinterest boards and I found a secret one that I had created about a week before the flood called “going back to church”. I kind of chuckled that it was a secret. I am just in awe at how Heavenly Father was preparing me to come back. He knew what was about to happen. I needed that little spark of desire in me. I forgot to mention that on Thursday morning before I left for Idaho I said a prayer. I hadn’t prayed in a VERY, VERY long time. I had the impression to find my Book of Mormon (I didn’t get rid of my scriptures even though I got rid of everything else). It was under my bed in a box literally collecting dust. I blew off the dust and said another little prayer asking Heavenly Father to help me and find something that I needed to read. I opened the book up and it just happened to open to the story of Alma the Younger. So I read and I realized that I was like him in so many ways. No, I didn’t see an angel and no, I wasn’t struck dumb for 3 days but I knew this story was meant for me to read at that time. I was about to have my own miraculous change of heart. My sister and I continued to heal our relationship and we became friends again! I had missed her so much. I missed her family. I had packed some Sunday clothes just in case I wanted to go with my sister to church on Sunday. The plan was to drive home on Sunday. I decided that I would go to church. But the progress on the house moved so quickly that we decided to come home on Saturday instead. I had promised my sister that I’d go to church in my home ward. Jaws were about to drop again. I sent a quick text to the Mission President in Utah and let him know. They had promised me that they would come with me my first Sunday back. I knew how busy he was and I knew that he’d have plans. But I wanted to let him know I was going. He said his wife would go with me! I was so nervous as I got ready to go that Sunday morning. I had decided to go. I walked out the door and my neighbor asked me where I was going. I told her church! She was so happy. She also informed me that I was about 4 hours too early. I didn’t even know what time our ward started!! As I was talking to her the Mission President’s wife drove up and I had to tell her that I messed up on the time. She didn’t mind a bit! So I went back home and waited and waited and waited. I told my next door neighbor that I was going and she asked if I wanted to walk with them to church, so I did. I met Sister C there and we all walked in together. Jaws didn’t drop openly like they did on Easter but a lot of eyes certainly got a little bigger! I was a nervous wreck. But I did it! I sat there and sang the hymns and listened to the things said. The talks were all about the pioneers. You see, it was the Sunday before Pioneer Day. I didn’t run away once the meeting was over. I couldn’t. There wasn’t a physical way to get out of there because all of my friends had come up to give me hug after hug after hug. Sister C mentioned that she was so happy that there were so many people who loved me. I stayed for Sunday School and Relief Society that day. Our lesson in Relief Society was about the Holy Ghost. It’s a lesson I’ll never forget. During my time away from the church I prayed. I did. I prayed that God would just send down an angel and then he could tell me the church was true and then that would be it. I’d believe again. You know, because God always justs casually sends angels down to talk to us all the time. For me that was the only way I’d believe...an angel. I wanted an angel dressed in a white robe, with a halo and big, white wings. It didn’t happen. The lesson was really good! The Spirit was really strong. I thought about that angel that never showed up and then at the end of the lesson the teacher read a quote from the manual. I almost fell out of my chair. I almost stood up and raised my arms and said “praise Jesus. Hallelujah”. But we aren’t that kind of a church. HA! She pinned this quote to the board “The Spirit of God speaking to the spirit of man has power to impart truth with greater effect and understanding than the truth can be imparted by personal contact even with heavenly beings. Through the Holy Ghost the truth is woven into the very fibre and sinews of the body so that it cannot be forgotten.5 “ Yes, the Church was true. That was my answer. I didn’t need an angel. I had been baptized and I had received the Gift of the Holy Ghost when I was 8 years old. I raised my hand and told the sweet sister in our ward about my praying for an angel and how well that worked out for me. Yes, through the Holy Ghost I knew the truth. I knew that I was where I needed to be. I knew that I needed to share my story. Now what? Now I rebuild. I rebuild what was once lost. I ask for forgiveness. I work on repairing broken relationships. I do tend to dwell on what was lost. I know I missed out on blessings and opportunities. I think of the choir I used to sing in. I miss it. So now I face the consequences of my actions. But it’s ok! Because through the Atonement I have become whole again. I’ve met with Bishop May. He’s a wonderful man who loves our family and wants only what is best for us. A couple of weeks ago he and his wife gave a talk in sacrament meeting. They stood up together and spoke. I thought it was a such a neat idea. They talked about the Second Coming. They talked about being prepared and they talked about the parable of the Ten Virgins. My lamp was bare to the bones. I sat there and started feeling sorry for myself. I had so far to go! Then I realized that it was that jerk Satan putting those thoughts into my head. Is my lamp as full as others? No, but that’s ok! How do you fill a lamp with oil anyways? A drop at a time. I may only have a few drops in my lamp compared to others but if Christ came today it would be enough. I’m doing my part to prepare and live the Gospel. Drop, drop, drop...if we continually add drops to our lamps it will always be enough. Christ won’t say, “sorry Tami, you only have enough oil to burn for an hour and this person over here has enough oil to burn for 24 hours. They are the ones that get to come in with me”. That’s all I’ve got right now because my journey has just started. But I’m making progress...drop, drop, drop. I have a new understanding of the Atonement. I am made whole again because of His sacrifice. It takes faith. But I also have a physical reminder of all that was sacrificed for me in that flood. I have mud stained pictures to look at. I have emails to read from my parents telling me that they’d do this over and over again for me. For ME??? Oh what a humbling experience this has been. So when the days get hard and I feel like giving up I have something to look at and remember. I will forever honor and treasure this experience. I’m going to end this conversion story with a poem I wrote. Thank you for reading. I have big plans for this little blog of mine so stay tuned. It doesn’t end with this post. The struggle was real inside her heart. The worldly views tearing her apart. But the Lord never left her side. He knows her perfectly. Perfect love comes from above. So gently He calls. Down on humbled knees people praying for a miracle, a change of heart. Yes, it would come. Waters raging. Lives seemingly destroyed. But with that destruction something comes back to life. A miracle. She is reborn out of the mud, debris and heartache. Flood waters recede and God makes anew. How quickly a heart can change. How quickly God can change a heart. Angels all around, both seen and unseen. The love abounds. Yes, God never leaves our side. A heart once sad, broken. Slow to beat. Slow to understand and believe, deteriorating. It is shocked back to life, quickly it repairs. What was once black, dark, heavy, pumping lifeless anger, despair, misery and sadness is brought back to life. The Savior her doctor. He makes anew. He takes her heart in his hands. Gone is the anguish. He calms the storm. He cures the broken. We are all broken. A chip here, a crack there. Sometimes a missing piece. He repairs. A heart now full of love and life beats in her chest a perfect rhythm. No longer black, it pumps hope and faith. True happiness. Overwhelmed and humbled. Oh so humbled. Never will she forget the sacrifices made. What would a sorry do? What's done is done. What to do? She decides. Believe again, faith unwavering. Grow and help others grow. She has a story. She will be an influence for good. She will honor what was lost by helping the lost.

Part FOUR

Thanks for hanging in there with me...I told you it was going to be a long story. And so it continues. During my time away from the Church, I found every way possible to dispute the truthfulness of it. I’d say to myself “see, that just happened, so it can’t possible be true”. I never saw the good. There’s a line in my Patriarchal Blessing (that’s a very special blessing that we use to guide our lives...not really sure how to describe it any better than that) that says that “my faith will be unwavering”. Um, excuse me? Unwavering? You’re joking, right? This was one of my biggest selling points to sway others away from the church. See, it can’t be true! My faith was wavering all over the place! Then I realized that there’s a time and a season for everything in our lives. And I realized that this particular line was referring to NOW. You see, my faith is unwavering. I will fight for it. Remember, Satan is a jerk and he wants us to be miserable like himself. Poor guy. Guess what? Good ALWAYS wins! Always. Pfft...we don’t have to be like him! Yuck! I won’t be like him. Good wins. God wins! Ok...back to the flood. It happened on a Tuesday. I sent a text to my sister telling her I wanted to come up and help. I don’t think she was too thrilled about seeing me. I wouldn’t be thrilled either. Remember, we weren’t exactly on lovey dovey terms at that point. I think she even tried to get me to not come but I wanted to see the house for myself. So I booked a shuttle for Thursday morning like it or not! Sorry, I know you are reading this and probably laughing now but weren’t then! And remember, this has a happy ending. The shuttle left from the Salt Lake Airport and I asked my father in law to give me a ride. I had told him about the feeling that came over me on Tuesday evening and he encouraged me to take the 4 ½ hour trip to think about all we had talked about. We really did have a wonderful and very open talk about my mistakes and my future and my son’s baptism. I love music. If you know me, you know how much I love music. Some of my favorite music is LDS music. So I did something I hadn’t done in a VERY long time. I listened to some LDS music and I prayed. I prayed and I cried on that shuttle. I hid my tears well. But yes, I did cry. I knew then that the church was true. I even sent a text to my brother and said “holy crap, the church is true, isn’t it”? He and his wife came up from Arizona the week before and we had lunch together. We talked about the church and they both told me that they loved me and that they’d be there for me. Yes, holy crap, the church was true as I so eloquently put it. Wait, what??? The church is what? No, no, no nononoononononoooooooooo it can’t be. I had just spend the last almost year very publicly letting the world know that it wasn’t. I even made a scene at Temple Square once. Not a big scene but a scene. Luckily it was dark and it was just me and two sister missionaries. But it was still a scene. But I knew then, on that shuttle, it was true. I could not, nor will I ever deny those feelings that I had on that shuttle taking me up to Rexburg, Idaho. What are people going to think of me now? Oh geez this was scary. Somehow God flipped the truth switch in my head. Or something like that. I’m still trying to wrap my human brain around the events of that day. How could a person just switch? How could one individual go from trying to destroy the church to believing it with all her heart? What???? It doesn’t make any sense. It was a miracle. Of that I am sure. I arrived at the BYU-Idaho campus and waited for my sister to pick me up. I don’t know how she was feeling but I was nervous. We hadn’t spoken in months. We weren’t friends anymore. We weren’t a part of each other’s lives anymore. She was nice when she picked me up. I think we drove straight to my parent’s house. I can’t remember. All I remember is driving up their street and seeing a huge dumpster full of worldly belongings. By the time I got there the basement had been cleared of the furnishings and other stuff. All that was left was a muddy mess. There were ward members drying pictures and journals and trying to save what they could. My uncle had driven up and I gave him a big hug. I was wearing flip flops and wanted to see the basement. He told me to put on some boots and follow him down. I ended up putting on my brother in law’s boots that were about 10 sizes too big for me. I clomped down the stairs and couldn’t believe my eyes. The water line was almost to the ceiling. There was thick mud everywhere. There was grass stuck to the walls. People had written things on the walls with mud. Tears streamed down my face. The restoration company was already there working. There were so many people helping my family. That truth switch in my brain must be on a dimmer switch because it got brighter as I walked around the house. It got brighter as I saw strangers who didn’t know our family sift through pictures and lovingly place paper towels between each page of a journal. Yes, this is what the church teaches. This was Christlike love that I was witnessing first hand. I had never seen anything like this before. My sister and I drove to the gas station, loaded up on Diet Coke and went to work. They had found a house to rent (another miracle) and so not only did they have to move but they also had the burden of taking care of my parent’s house too. My sister had arranged for me to stay at a ward member’s house. But by that first evening she offered her couch to me and I gladly took that. I also had a very rocky relationship with her husband. But I was determined to make things right so we talked. It was brutal. I love people who don’t sugar coat things. Just tell me how it is and let’s move on. Actually maybe a little sugar would have been nice? But seriously, it was an amazing talk and I absolutely love them. It was a turning point in our relationship. I finally felt like I could prove to them and myself that this was a forever change. You see, I don’t exactly have the best track record. I was just so glad that they gave me another chance.

Conversion Part 3

I never had any intention of ever setting foot inside a Mormon church again. In fact, I was very passionate about it. I had turned my husband and my children against the church. We were NEVER going back. Our youngest was turning 8 soon and there was no way I would allow him to get baptized. I got rid of everything church related. I’m serious. Everything. Books, pictures, Sunday clothes and even my temple clothes. I won’t go into much detail about how I got rid of some of it because I am too ashamed. I’ll just tell you that it involved a pit, wood and matches. Are you understanding how bitter and hateful I was? If I died I knew someone would try and bury me in my temple clothes (maybe?) and I just couldn’t take that chance. They HAD to go. I did keep one thing. I kept something that my grandmother had made for me. Something she had spent HOURS making for me. I still have that. I won’t say much more about this dark period of my life. I am not proud of it. It hurts to talk about it. Some will judge and some will not understand. That’s ok. I still don’t understand. I was born, like Nephi, to goodly parents. We had family prayer and family scripture study every day. I broke my parents’ hearts. And so I don’t want to focus on everything I did wrong. I am living proof that the Lord never leaves our side. He never leaves us alone. We may feel alone but He never left me. He loves me enough to stay and work miracles. I was doing my part to help destroy the Church. I was actively pursuing that and still God loved me. I didn’t feel it then. I felt abandoned. I felt betrayed. I felt unloved. But I wasn’t. He knew that I had a special purpose here on Earth and He knew what it would take to get me back on His side, a devastating flood. You also need to understand that I basically at this point in my life I had no relationship with my siblings. Why would they want this negativity in their lives? I wouldn’t either. I only mention this because it plays a big part in this story. I really don’t blame them for one second for keeping their distance from me. I was not an easy person to love and be around. My parent’s house flooded on a Tuesday. The week before the flood I started wondering what it would be like to go back to church. Would I be welcomed back? I had gone with a good friend to Sacrament Meeting on Easter Sunday and jaws literally dropped. Would that happen again? Has someone sinned so much so that they can’t return? I emailed a friend, my dad and this good mission president and asked if they thought a person was ever too far gone to come back. I laughed when my dad asked if I had killed anybody. Nope! Then guess what, I wasn’t too far gone! I left it at that. It was just a thought. I was just curious to know what others thought. I remember googling “ex mormon returns to church”. I wanted to know if there was anyone else out there in the big Mormon world who had ever come back. I wondered if someone who was so against the church had ever returned for good. Nope, didn’t find anything positive out there at all. That’s the reason I’m sharing this story. I have no doubt that there are others out there wrestling with a decision to return or not. It’s so scary. You have no idea how terrifying it is to come back to church. I almost threw up the first time. I’m not kidding. I had such sweaty palms that I was grateful for a hug rather than a handshake. My parent’s house flooded on a Tuesday. My sister had just moved back to their house from Arizona. She sent out a text to my brother, my sister and me telling us that Mom and Dad’s house had flooded and they lost everything. Huh?? My parents don’t live anywhere near water of any kind. Let me back up here for a second. You are probably confused as to why my sister and her family moved into my parent’s house. My parents are living in Mexico right now. They are serving the Lord by serving as a Mission president. They have one year left. My parent’s house sits on a hill and it sometimes flooded after heavy rainstorms because their windows would leak. They’d pull up the carpet and dry everything and that was that. So I really didn’t think her text was a big deal at first. Then she sent pictures. A freak of a storm hit Idaho and the water had no where to go. My parent’s basement was under 8 feet of water. Before they left my mom and dad packed up their stuff and moved it into the basement storage room. My sister and her family would be living there while they were gone and my cute mom wanted my sister to feel like it was her home while they were gone. So my sister, her husband and their 7 kids moved in. I can’t even begin to tell you how mad I was that God let this happen. They were on a mission!! My sister had JUST moved back to Idaho. I screamed at my husband and kids about this. How could this happen? Where were the blessing that they thought they’d have while serving a mission? How could this happen to my sister too? I was MAD!!! That evening I experienced a miracle. My husband and I were out running errands and, of course, I was complaining and crying and yelling about the flood and as I was, a wave of peace washed over me. I felt it start on top of my head and it worked it’s way down to the tips of my toes. I felt the Spirit? How was that even possible? And I knew then that only good would come of this flood.

Conversion Part TWO

So this website is run by “active” Mormons. I mean really, it’s not anti Mormon then, right? WRONG!! It’s not anti Mormon if it’s filled with “facts” and “quotes” about and from general authorities, right? WRONG!!! So very, very wrong. Ok, so to be fair it is filled with actual facts about Joseph Smith. But they have twisted these facts into something evil. Yeah, evil. I can’t think of another word to describe it. I became obsessed with this website. I spent every single extra minute I had doing my “research”. I read at work, on the bus and at home. It consumed my life and my soul. I decided to have my name officially removed from the records of the church. Not only did I do that but because I had a few people asking me about my activity in the church I decided that it would be a great idea to publicly announce my resignation on Facebook. Oh and was I ever dramatic about it. I didn’t let my family know before hand. They were angry and hurt which just fueled my fire even more. I had a new lifestyle. I had to live up to that. No one understood how I could do such a thing. And to be honest, I didn’t understand how they could stay in a church that had so much “history”. FINALLY I was FREE!! Yes, finally. Free as a bird. I took flight. I flew right into a tattoo shop and got a black bird singing tattooed on my leg. Yes, I was free. I was finally free of true happiness and the Spirit of God in my life. I was finally “happy”. I had chosen for myself and I was living my “authentic” life. I loved showing off my true, authentic, new “self” on social media. I lived for it. I’m rolling my eyes just typing this now. Oh I was so dumb! But I thought I was so smart! I was free, remember? I started drinking. A lot. A real lot. I filled my fridge with beer and wine. The liquor store was now on my list of regular stops. Yep, free as a bird!! Black bird singing in the dead of night kind of free. I even took pictures of my fridge and posted them, yep on social media. Eye roll… I had a few people unfriend me on Facebook. I couldn’t figure out for the life of me why they would do such a thing! Weren’t they taught not to judge and to love everyone? Well, yes but that doesn’t mean that I HAVE to be part of their life. I was bringing them down. Who wants that in their life? No one. I in turn unfriended everyone in my ward (almost everyone). I’ll show them! Hate consumed me. It flowed through my veins. Darkness clouded my eyes and my heart. I only cared about myself. Soon after my lovely announcement my Dad emailed me and told me that he had a good friend who is a mission president here in Utah. He asked if I would be willing to talk to them. Sure, why not. Again, I’ll show them who’s really right! Game on! Bishop May had already received my resignation letter and I did agree to meet with him. He told me that a fresh start is probably what I needed. And he told me that I had two options I could immediately resign or I could wait 30 days. I told him I would wait the 30 days. I met the mission president and his wife. They came over to our house and we talked openly. I told him that I always had and will continue to have a testimony of God. I lied. He then said that there was one thing that I could do to show God that I loved Him and that I had faith in Him and that was to not have my name removed. I agreed. What just happened??? I agreed? I was so mad at myself. I had so much respect and admiration for this couple that I couldn’t help myself. If there was any way to become like them I’d take it. So I sent my bishop a text. Yes, I didn’t even call him. He let me know that he was proud of me. And so the months went by. I still read that website everyday. As an added bonus I joined several ex mormon groups on facebook. We even met for coffee once a month. It was my support group. Finally I found some people who understood what I was going through. I found some true friends. Another eye roll… I was a very, very, very active participant in these groups. No sitting on the sidelines for this girl. No sir!! I had a couple of LDS friends email me and tell me that they too had doubts and the floodgates of filth opened and spewed from my mouth. Oh I was so happy for them that they were finally seeing the true light. I was given some “pass along” cards at one of these coffee meetings. These were cards promoting the website. These were meant to open eyes to the truth. I carried them with pride. I couldn’t wait to hand these out. I’m not kidding when I tell you that I took my temple recommend out of my wallet and replaced it with these cards...

My bird

The LAST Conversion Story I'll EVER Write...Part 1

My LAST Conversion story I’ll EVER write… I’ve written a conversion story before. It didn’t last long. This story WILL last though. How do I know? Just keep reading. It sort of has to do with a flood and my parents losing everything they owned for me. Seriously, hang in there with me...keep reading the updates. I’ve always struggled with my testimony of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. My testimony was always on high or off. There was no inbetween. I’m sure people wonder why if I had a very strong testimony at times in my life how in the world could I just let it waste away. I don’t have the answers to that question. I’m stubborn? Satan is a jerk? I’m forgetful? I left my room without thinking to pray? Yeah, probably all of those combined into a big mess. This last conversion story started a while ago. I was the Young Women’s President in our ward. I had the Spirit with me. I was rocking my calling. Then our ward combined with another ward. We got a new Bishop. I was CRUSHED!!! I loved Bishop Pitt. He was amazing. He believed in me. He saw the good in me. And just like that he was gone. Yep, gone. He was called to be in the bishopric in a single’s ward. Crushed!! I liked our new bishop though, Bishop May. I hung in there for a few months and then Carter got VERY, VERY, VERY sick. It was all I could do to keep my emotions in check. Until I couldn’t. During one Ward Council meeting I cracked and I stormed out. I handed in my binder and keys and told them I was “done”. Yeah, wasn’t one of my prouder moments in life. I sunk down in a very deep depression. So deep that during that year I only knew how to function in the hospital. I couldn’t function at home. I literally wasted away laying in bed 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, Unless Carter was in the hospital. I didn’t shower. I didn’t cook. I didn’t do ANYTHING. My kids and my husband shouldered the burden of the house alone. In October I was hospitalized. It wasn’t my first time in the loony bin either. That’s another story. I continued to go to church because Steve had lost his job after Carter’s hospital stays and we needed help. And the only way Bishop May would help us is if we went to church. He said we needed the “blessings” and we needed the “Spirit” in our lives. Pfft...right. Where was God? I had a critically ill child, a husband with no job and depression to boot. Steve finally got a job and the bishop said no more help to you! So I had no reason to go. I stopped going to church. A few months later I had the amazing opportunity to become a phlebotomist. It was my favorite job in the entire world! I started working at LDS Hospital (ironic, huh?). I drove past a billboard every night. It caught my attention. It was about Mormons, how bad could it be? BAD. Really, really bad.

Praying For Help

Yesterday afternoon our dryer stopped working.  It had been making a funny noise for a few months.  I didn't think anything of it actually.  It was drying the clothes, end of story right?  Wrong!  We do not have the money to replace or fix any broken appliance right now so I sort of panicked a little.  The Hubs called his dad and he had some good ideas.  We went downstairs and took off the back of the dryer.  The Hubs noticed the belt was WAY too loose.  So he went to work.  I went back upstairs to cook dinner.  While I was browning the meat I had an overwhelming feeling that I needed to kneel and pray that he would be able to fix the dryer.  I went in my room and knelt. 

Heavenly Father knows all!  He can help us with anything and everything and so I told the Lord that if He could help Nephi build a boat surely he could help The Hubs fix the dryer.  Right?  YES!!!  God is good!  And the dryer is working again.

I know God answers prayers.  I know that nothing it too trivial for the Lord.  He is waiting for us to ask.  He knew we needed help so why did I have to pray to Him?  He can only help us if we ask him.  I think of my 6 year old.  I know when he needs help but I don't jump in to help every time.  Sometimes I do and sometimes God does too.  But when I see my son struggling I simply remind him he needs to use his "words" and ask for help.  The same goes for us.  I felt prompted to use my words to pray for help and the Lord helped us in our time of need.