I Am Not a Mormon...Yet

I suppose it must seem strange to say that I am not a Mormon, yet I am starting a blog about the church and my past into it. I guess it would be fair to say that I am a convert, in the midst of an incredibly long conversion process, and that I will, at some point, become Mormon. I have, however, always had this instinctive desire to chronicle every little thing, so I thought this would be as good a time as any to begin that process.

I first experienced the church a couple of years ago when I was living in Las Vegas. Prior to that time, I had known people in life that I knew were Mormon, but I had never spoken to them about it and all I knew was the same strange rumors that everyone else had heard. I heard that Mormons spoke to salamanders, that they wore magical underwear that were blessed by a priest, that they were some kind of crazy cult that didn't even believe in Christ, despite the fact that the name Jesus Christ is even part of the name of the church.

I met a girl named Hannah at this time who I was very fond of. It would be more accurate to say that I loved her from the start. She was (is) a Mormon, and was my first introduction to the church. We would talk at length about the craziness of the rumors and how absurd they are, and she would tell me what the service is really like and we would talk about how she converted to the church.

It all made me feel very at ease with the church, and I was so fond of her and wanted to share any interest that she had, so it wasn't long before I contacted the missionaries and started to attend service. I actually requested missionaries online but never heard from anyone, so I took it upon myself to attend service, although I went to the wrong ward. They were very welcoming and helped me get introduced to Elders Jolly and Earl, both originally from Washington state. What I wouldn't give to be able to talk to one of them now.

There were a lot of things I loved about the church, especially in comparison to other churches I have attended throughout my life, but my work schedule changed and I stopped being able to attend Sunday service. I never quite got over that obstacle. I did work with a big Hawaiian guy named Matua who asked me if I was Mormon once, and I told him I was converting. He shouted "I knew it" and told me he was born into the church but had separated for a while and was just coming back. He told me he can tell I'm going to go far in the church, which made me feel good, but what I remember most is that he told me not to worry about missing service because Heavenly Father knows we all have to earn a living.

I kept seeing the missionaries as often as I could for a while, and came very close to being baptized. Close enough that I had picked a date and selected who was going to speak what parts. I'll save why it didn't happen for another post, but it didn't, and after that I was too shy to ever return to the church. I've been in a downward spiral since that time and my life has gone in such a wrong direction. The last time I felt like I was on the right path was when I was sitting in Sunday service, but now I have so many other problems that simply attending service will not solve. Or will it? Welcome to my life.

Come Back Later

If you've already found this page, it is probably because Heavenly Father intended you to. Please bookmark the page for future reference. I literally just registered the blog and haven't had an opportunity to set things up yet, but will get things going asap. Hold on for a wild ride.