Modern Pioneers

The post Examples of Young Women who are Latter-day Pioneers appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

Seth Adam Smith recently interviewed Al Fox. He said,

She calls herself “the Tattooed Mormon,” but I call her a modern Mormon pioneer.

Why? Because the story of her conversion so similar to that of the early pioneers…

An LDS Living article also recently wrote about her story.

Al Fox wasn’t looking for religion. In fact, when the missionaries tracted in to her while she was living in New York, she told them she would let them teach her only if they brought her a steak dinner, sure they wouldn’t follow through and she wouldn’t have to see them again.

They did.

But Fox didn’t mind too much, because there was “something about them that I wanted them to come back. I didn’t know why, but I just loved how I felt around them,” she says. That didn’t mean she wanted to hear about the gospel, though. “Every day I saw them, I did everything I could to do anything except talk about the Church, and I thought I was doing fairly well.”

But gradually, she began to open up little by little, and she started reading the scriptures and praying—hoping more to prove the Church was wrong than it was right—but the change in her heart became greater.

Read more about Al’s story at Seth’s blog or at LDS Living, and/or watch the following video interview that Seth did with Al.

Al shares more about her faith and the happiness the gospel of Jesus Christ has given her on her blog and her YouTube video channel.

The post Al Fox – a modern Mormon pioneer appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

Well, we’re a day late, but here are some more Mormon conversion stories in response to a reader who was asking about former Catholics who became Mormon, and why they chose such a path. (See one former Catholic’s story in our previous post.)

But first, here’s a snippet from a 2010 Mormon conversion stories post that we think is worth quoting again, quoting President Gordon B. Hinckley:

We recognize the good in all people. We recognize the good in all churches, in their efforts to improve mankind and to teach principles that lead to good, stable, productive living. To people everywhere we simply say, ‘You bring with you all the good that you have, and let us add to it. That is the principle on which we work.’

We as Mormons believe there has been a restoration of truth that can add to the good that people already have in their lives, and help them both face the challenges that life brings and also deepen its joys . Reading Mormon conversion stories can help you get a feel for why people choose Mormonism.

Jason, a Mormon convert, writes:

When I went to college, I was exposed to the Mormon Church and met with the missionaries. After learning a little about the basic beliefs, I honestly felt a little intimidated. I had grown up Catholic and knew that what I had learned as a kid was good. I didn’t want to replace that feeling with something that was new and unfamiliar.

Jason continues, explaining that a couple of years later, he started attending Mormon church services. He came to understand that showing interest in Mormonism did not mean that he had to abandon the faith he had grown up with, but rather that Mormonism built upon what he had felt and believed and cherished about his Catholic upbringing.

I had originally thought that I would have to give up the faith and beliefs I had come to know as a Catholic. As it turns out, it was just the opposite. What I have learned in the Mormon Church adds to and gives more meaning to truths I learned as a boy such as knowing that I have a Savior, Jesus Christ.

Jason was baptized in 2004. You can read more of his conversion story here.

Kathleen’s Mormon conversion story is shorter, but the sentiments are similar:

I’m a Mormon. I grew up a Catholic. My parents always took me to church and helped me to know and rely on Jesus Christ. I am so grateful that my parents taught me what they knew. One day 2 missionaries knocked on my door. It was mid-winter and they were freezing. I let them in and gave them a drink of water. They started telling me about their love for Jesus Christ. We had that in common. I listened. I asked tons of questions. They had answers.

Paul also grew up in a large Catholic family. He feels his life was spared (many times — he’s had several near death experiences) so that he could find the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. His reason for conversion mirrors the experiences of many Mormon converts. A testimony of the Book of Mormon is also what Mormons who have been born in the faith share as one reason why their faith in the Church is strong.

I was born and brought up Catholic and never thought I would ever be anything but Catholic. However, after meeting with the missionaries and being asked to pray about the Book of Mormon and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I received an overwhelming and undeniable confirmation from the Holy Spirit that the Church and the Book of Mormon are true.

Editor’s note: When we say we believe the Church is true, it’s that we believe that God restored it through direct revelation to prophets, and that prophets continue on the earth today, with priesthood authority to perform saving ordinances such as baptism, by immersion.

Toni, a 74-year-old Mormon convert, was a Catholic nun for eight years. She grew up in an abusive home, and hoped that joining a convent would help her find happiness. She learned through much hard experience that happiness had to be found within. At age 36, she heard about the Mormon faith, but was skeptical. But through studying, fasting, and praying, she gained her own testimony of the truthfulness of the Church. She shares some of the doctrinal teachings that are meaningful to her:

As a member of the Church, I feel an abiding joy in knowing where I came from, what my pupose is on this earth, and where I am going after this earth life. I love the fact that Mormons believe salvation is offered to every single person who ever lived on the earth, not just a chosen few who happen to be “born at the right time in the right place”.

Lynnette grew up Catholic, was then a Lutheran, but continued to feel that questions she had were still not answered. Over time, she gained her own conviction of the truthfulness of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Hers is a story that shows that sometimes the journey to conversion can take time and come with challenges and opposition. (The answers don’t always come quickly or easily!)

A different Jason writes about how his questions were answered through Mormonism:

I was seeking for truth, for answers to my questions that were deemed mysteries in my early years of a Catholic upbringing, particulary about life after death, and the Second Coming of the Lord. After a few visits with the missionaries and as they taught the message of the Restoration, I found the answers to those questions and so many more.

These are just a few of the examples of conversion stories from people who were Catholic but found truths in Mormonism that resonated with them. Many more conversion stories can be found at Mormon.org

We also have several links to other Mormon conversion stories on the Mormon Conversion Stories post that was previously mentioned. (For a direct link to conversion stories of former Catholics, you can go here.)

The post From Catholic to Mormon: More LDS Conversion Stories appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

~by Shawna

I grew up in Utah a Pentcostal Mormon hater. I used to carry my Bible in my backpack and try to “Save” everyone I could. I would pray over the high school in the mornings on the football field with my best friend.

I was not happy about being surrounded by Mormons and never ever ever thought I would join. Then my senior year of high school my parents moved me to a new school and I met, fell in love with and married my high school sweet heart I met there three years later. He was a member of the church and his parents were both converts. They loved me and welcomed me with open arms.

About two-three years into our marriage I found out that my husband the person I thought I knew was a herion addict. My life was turned upside down. I spent the next two years trying to save him for his life style that he kept hidden from so many people. I came across an LDS 12 step meeting for addicts and their family members. I started attending the meetings faithfuly and couldnt deny the spirit I felt when I was there.

I started asking my boss at work questions about the church….

Read the rest of her story here.

Shawna’s blog can be found here.

The post “I married Nephi” – a Mormon woman’s conversion story appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

I was engaged just before my 19th birthday to a wonderful man. We were married in December of 2005. We attended several different churches, looking for a place to belong, a place that felt right, none of them met our spiritual needs. 11 months after we were married we found out I was pregnant, then we discovered it was twins. I was so scared, the doctors said there was a problem, it appeared I had only one placenta, the initial ultrasound also looked like there was only one sac, meaning I might not make it past 20 weeks. It was heart broken and I cried out to God. I prayed as I drove home “Heavenly Father I will do whatever it takes, I will raise these children the way You want me to, just please let them be healthy.” Those were my exact words and I meant them, but I didn’t know what it meant, but I meant them.

The NEXT DAY I was at home with my husband when the doorbell rang….

“Carolina Girl” was born into the Church, but after her parents’ divorce, she lived with her father who eventually forbade her and her sisters from going to church (he had lost his belief in the church). she attended a Baptist church with her grandparents, but always felt that void in her life, even as she fought it.

Read more to find out how she came back to the church here.

The post A Mormon woman’s (re-)conversion story appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

I was not raised by my mother, but off and on by one of her sisters and her husband. My world was one of complete insecurity. I never had a home that was mine. Furniture that was mine. Even my clothing was usually borrowed or hand me downs until I was too old for the process.

Alcohol was an everyday affair in my family. Lots and lots of alcohol. Along with being sexually abused by two of my uncles these “assets” created a woman with serious anger issues, extreme insecurity and my own alcoholism. I had no successful or appropriate relationship examples in my life. I would fall into the trap of relationship after relationship trying to fill the hole in my soul for love.

Read how over the course of many years, Deanna was able to learn more about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and how she eventually came to join the Church. And how the gospel helped her find peace, healing, and sobriety.

The post “Mormons were out to get me!” – LDS Conversion story appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

Editor’s note: Special thanks to Kit for sharing her conversion story and testimony with us here at Mormon Women: Who We Are. Kit joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints earlier this year. You can read more about her journey and her testimony at her blog.

As a child I called [Mormon] temples little plastic castles, never being close enough to see them for what they are. As an adult, I had traveled past one while commuting from Los Angeles to San Diego on a regular basis but was never able to grasp what they were or their importance, only that I wasn’t permitted to venture inside.

Over the last three years, the walk of my life would redefine who I am through education, tragedy, relationships and the moving of the Holy Spirit in my heart. Over the next few pages, I’ll be sharing with you that journey which is the testimony I wish to bare to you. It is also the story of my life and the story of my heart.

My life has never been an easy one. Some people will talk about bad days, bad weeks, bad months, bad years or bad decades. Until a few months ago, I would stand firmly on the grounds that I have had up until this point a “bad life”.
Don’t get me wrong, my parents are amazing people and I have a wonderful family and we all did the best we could with what we have and were given, but the circumstances that would befall me through my most influential years could be considered nothing more than a series of unfortunate events. These losses, some more tragic and devastating than others, from loved ones to innocence, as well as poor life choices that resulted in domestic violence are ones of the past. Some so grievous that there are those who know me as a person and have watched me grow over the past few years and can’t help but to ask, “How is it you stayed sane?” (I personally argue sanity as a point of view of the beholder and that when it comes to my own mental capacity, that I am neither sane or insane, but unsane which is the art of being both and neither at the same time.)
To skip through some of the most gruesome details that are not fit for polite conversation, and ones that after years of personal study through Celebrate Recovery and working my steps and processing these events, have finally been healed through is a blessing not just for me, but for you. Recent changes in my life have also washed these events away and I stand firm in this belief.
The most important parts of this story began around my birthday on in March of 2008. I didn’t necessarily want to go home and see my family. We’re the kind of family that loves each other dearly, but also gets along much better when there are a few thousand miles between us and our time together spent well and for less than a few weeks at a time. In the back of my head, I felt a push toward going home and found myself looking at air fare which would take me from Austin, TX to Syracuse, NY. Deciding I couldn’t afford the tickets, the thought was pushed aside.
Over the next few weeks I wouldn’t just feel an insisting pull toward home, but I would hear a voice that insisted that I go home. After weeks of fighting the urge and promptings, I finally looked at my work schedule and purchased tickets that would take me home at the end of May. The fare was affordable, much more so than the week before, so despite the urging of that voice which told me I should go home sooner, I was content with the thought that I would soon be on my way home.

This brings us to May 12, 2008, only six days before I would fly home. Just thinking about this day brings tears to my eyes and causes my heart to jump into my throat. It’s one of those days, a moment really that threatens to define you. One where you either give in to the enemy and are lost forever or one where you truly begin listening to the promptings of spirit.
My mother called late in the evening on May 12. Working overnights, I hadn’t quite woken up yet, nor did I answer my phone. Rarely, if ever does she leave a message and I was definitely surprised that my phone ‘dinged’ after downloading voice mail.

“Ker – as soon as you get this call me.”

My mother has only said that twice since. Once in November of 2010 had been to tell me that my grandfather had taken his life and the other was a false alarm. This time, she would tell me that my oldest nephew, Zachary John had a brain tumor. My mother, being a nurse for longer than I have been alive also told me it wouldn’t be operable and that there would be little that anyone could do.

While his illness brought our family blessings beyond any we could have imagined (nearly half a year of paid vacation time donated by the members of the local fire and police departments, treatment at St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital in Memphis by the most amazing care team, a community outpouring of generosity through an amazing fund raiser, a pug pup which Zak would name Burrito and so many more), ultimately there would be nothing anyone could do. Zak suffered from a Diffuse Intrinsic Pontine Glioma (DipG). While it was possible to beat back the cancer into brief remission, only 4% of the children with his condition survived their first round of chemotherapy. There was a 2% statistic for those who made it through their second round into remission as the disease returned more furiously and more resistant after the first round. There still is no statistic for children making it past their second remission.

I wanted to move my tickets and go home immediately, but my mother would plead with me to wait to come home because we didn’t want to scare him. After several days of testing, at the urging of my Uncle Buddy, my sister and my nephew’s doctors reached out to St. Jude’s Childrens Hospital, the next morning, the one before I would fly home, St. Jude’s reached out to them. They would have a 9 AM flight and they raced to catch it, escorted by the local police department.

I learned quickly not to ignore that prompting that I hadn’t felt in years.

In August, Zak would return from St. Jude’s healthier than he had been when he left to on his Mission as a Cancer Warrior. Despite this general improvement, he tired easily, and had begun swelling as a result of the steroids and chemotherapy treatments.

A week later I would come home for two weeks on FMLA to relieve my sister, spend time with my niece Victoria, and her older brother Joshua, the middle child as well as get my fill of Zak attacks and his humor, his smile, his laughter, and help him combat his depression now that he knew what he was up against.
While I was home, Zak asked me if I’d see him in heaven.

At the time, I was anything but a believer. But I couldn’t help but reassure him that I would. I prayed with him to ask Jesus into my heart, but at the time I was so heart broken that I didn’t feel anything, only the need to make sure that my nephew who had been ministering to our family through his illness and doing his best to make sure we believed he wasn’t in pain, even though he was, had as few worries as possible.

Zak would be swept up by Heavenly Father on December 26, 2008 while in the arms of his mother and father, and surrounded by his family. As per his wishes, University Hospital would remove the baseball-sized tumor from his brain and send it to St. Jude’s for study.

I myself would return home defeated. At the time I didn’t understand that making Zak ill was the only way that the enemy could effect him and that the miracle wasn’t in Zak’s healing, but was in the release from the bonds of his illness. My life was in turmoil and I was in a state of frustrated, pain filled anxiety.

Having given my life to Christ I would go through the motions of dealing with my grief through my first encounters with Celebrate Recovery and by attending Grace Covenant Church. Though the hardest part of this journey was that I still didn’t believe. Despite baptism, and the progress I had made so quickly, it was superficial.
I finally turned to God and demanded that he prove to me that there was a Star of Bethlehem. This proof needed to be based in science, historical and astronomical fact and as far as I had known, no one had discovered the Star or been able to explain it’s origins.

If I could prove that there was no star then there would be no Wise Men leaving the tribe of Daniel to follow it to Bethlehem, no baby in a manger and no Christ because he would turn instantly into a fairy tale. Then I wouldn’t need to worry about God, Jesus or any of the religious “nonsense”.
I researched, coming to understand the characteristics of the star and based on the information I had was not able to locate it, I’d even failed to do the obvious and search for the Bethlehem Star on Google. (That in and of itself would have been to easy…) As such, I felt I had my justification to denounce the belief of Jesus as the Christ in every way shape and form.
The Sunday School class I had been attending was having a gathering after church one Sunday afternoon. The same day I demanded God show me proof of the star or that this was it. No star, no Jesus, no God, no Kit following them because they didn’t exist, end of story.

During our outing, after our potluck, we watched the Bethlehem Star where a lawyer would locate the Star itself, based on the nine characteristics of the star, a mistranslation of a work by Kapernicus and Starry Night Backyard Edition located the star itself. In the documentary Larson himself even mentioned that his website was the most trusted search result. I had a ginormous “duh” moment, but when it comes down to it, I know that I needed to do the research to identify the Star’s characteristics before I would have accepted Larson’s documentary and research for fact. (www.bethlehemstar.net for details)

So, I have to admit, God got me there. I was on my way and even decided I wanted to continue to work with women through recovery because at the time it felt like it was all I was doing. During this course of study, I had to write a paper based on the works I had studied regarding the Evangelical view of the Mormon Church and the basis of it’s theology.
While finishing the paper itself I began to date my now boyfriend Jeremy and began to get to know the members of his Mormon family. The problems I had with what I had finished in my paper verse what I was seeing, was a completely contradictory to what I had written for school. These were no cultists, they in no way resembled the Fundamentalists who made bad press for the church itself.

I turned to a friend at work who was a returned missionary and recently married and sealed in the Temple and asked Steven what I should do and what should I expect. Jeremy’s presence in my life was definitely different than the presence any man had ever brought into my life.

Steven, knowing my thoughts about science and how they interact with my spiritual beliefs told me to start with the Book of Mormon where Christ appears in the “New World” and work backwards and compare the stories to the Incan, Aztec and Mayan histories.

Here, working backwards in the Book of Mormon, were the stories of a people that hadn’t been fully vetted by scholarly journals as told by a man with very little education, one that could barely read let alone write.

With these thoughts in mind I took a semester off, during which the university I was studying at did not renew it’s nation accreditation and I ended up withdrawing from my combined Bachelors, Masters and Doctor of Ministry program in order to pursue study of the Book of Mormon.

On September 24, 2011 I was baptized, having done most of the work for our Missionaries.
This week, while on vacation, I had the opportunity to see several Temples. We’d visited Rexberg and Idaho Falls in Idaho, saw the Ogden and Bountiful Temples from the road and wandered Temple Square in Salt Lake City.
Needless to say, I finally got to see those little plastic castles up close. They were anything but little. Walking around the Salt Lake City Temple, Jeremy laughed as I sat there and cried while looking into the reflection pools, fell in love with the organs in the Tabernacle and in the Conference Center.
During our walk on the grounds we made our way up to the top of the South Visitor’s Center and found the statue of the Christ surrounded by a painting of the universe. While Jeremy took pictures, I couldn’t help but cry.

While meditating over the painting of Joseph Smith meeting Christ and Heavenly Father in the grove for the first time, I felt a stirring in my heart, but this stirring was much more powerful and very different.

I was filled with overwhelming joy. I know now in my heart soul what I knew scientifically and historically only a few weeks before this day knew and it is my testimony to bare to you.

Jesus is the Christ, the Son of Heavenly Father in flesh, the child foretold of by Old Testament Prophets who left the tribe of Daniel and journeyed to Bethlehem to find. The same man would go on to heal the sick and minister to those who were spiritually poor, share the word of His Father with common man and would ultimately atone for the sins of man and reunite man with Heavenly Father.

The Holy Bible is the Word of God.

The Book of Mormon is the Word of God translated by the Prophet Joseph Smith who would restore the Church of Christ based on this work and his vision.
I also testify that Thomas S. Monson is a living Prophet who speaks from the Heart of our Heavenly Father and is guiding us during trying times where we have begun to see the fulfillment of Old Testament prophecy.

I am thankful and blessed to have the Elders and friends who guided me forward on this journey and also for the welcome I have received by the Church and the Relief Society as a whole. I’ll even admit that for a moment when the ward voted to welcome me that part of me in that split second pondered what would happen if they had voted no, even though I knew that they would welcome me with open arms.

With these things in mind, I can testify that not only based on scientific fact, but spiritually, that through my education, my research and my time walking in this life which ultimately brought me to be who I am today, that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is the one true church.
I leave this testimony for my children and any who will come after me in either investigation of my faith or in need of renewal of their spirit in the name of Jesus Christ.

Kit Lampman

The post My Mormon Conversion Story, by Kit appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

~by Jennifer

I need to preface the remarks that follow about my conversion to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My mother converted to Catholicism in her early twenties after marrying my dad (raised as a Protestant, but by then an agnostic, and someone not exactly crazy about “God” after what he’d witnessed in Germany during WWII). My mother wanted us to choose our own paths but raised us as Catholics because that was her religion. Interestingly enough, not one of the four of us were baptized after birth or at any other time growing up. If you look at the doctrine of Catholicism, baptizing children as soon as possible after birth is critical to their salvation. My mother’s desire to have us choose our own path? That we did. My oldest brother served in the Peace Corp in Nepal for nearly five years, and converted to Buddhism while there, still practicing that philosophy as he nears age sixty in 2010. A side note here: my brother came home and married Yvette, a wonderful woman with a rich Jewish heritage! My mother was beyond thrilled; she never expected our family make up to include someone Jewish! (You can’t make this stuff up…!)

My other brother has lead a tough life battling manic-depression, and is now making up all the time he’d lost before being properly medicated near age 30. He now lives with his wife and son. He does not practice any specific religion, but is one of the greatest Christians I’ve ever known. He would literally give you the shirt off your back.

My sister, two years older than I, told me in 4th grade that she wanted to be a Catholic nun; little did we know she was serious! She lives in a Catholic order, Madonna House, and in 1983 she took her final vows of poverty, chastity and obedience, and served as the House Director in Brazil for 18 years before returning several years ago to Ontario Canada where she began her service.

When my niece, Emily, had her “bat mitzvah”, my brother had asked my mom if she could at least write a letter to Emily for me to read to the congregation, as my mother’s heart condition would not allow her to fly from Utah to New Hampshire. I stood in the congregation, with my prayer shawl and yarmulke on my head, and read, : “Dear Emily, here I sit, the Catholic grandmother, writing a letter at the request of my Buddhist son, to be read at the bat mitzvah of his Jewish daughter, to be read by her Mormon aunt!”. Needless to say, the congregation enjoyed that irony immensely! Like I said before, you can’t make this stuff up….

And so now we come to the baby of the family- me. I grew up in the early -70s, a tumultuous time in U.S. history, and in our family. My oldest brother’s draft number was below 100 and the options of going to jail or Canada instead of Viet Nam did not sit well with my father, a member of “the greatest generation”. So things were not pretty at our house. And I was not in any way, shape, or form looking for religion. I wasn’t exactly “the type”. My mother had allowed us to “stop” going to church for Sunday mass when we were around twelve years old. It was 1974 and we, like other kids in that era, were up to some mischief- lying to our parents, drinking, “experimenting”, etc., and I wanted no part of being at home. As Joseph Smith said in his history, “no one need suppose me guilty of serious sin”; but I was headed for trouble.

All I knew about Mormons was that our Homecoming Queen at Catalina High School in Tucson, AZ, was beautiful, well-liked, and Mormon. Surely she wasn’t Mormon happily. Obviously her parents made her be Mormon. It was a cult, right? She was the only Mormon I knew, but what I knew about this “cult” was that they occasionally had to live on whatever food they had in their house until their prophet called from Salt Lake City and said they could shop again.

Huh??  (That was my version of the Church’s food storage program- incredibly ridiculous. But then I had also heard that Mormons couldn’t dance or drink root beer. Again, huh?? It always strikes me funny after all these years that the Church holds countless Church dances, especially for the youth. We dance a lot. And even funnier? We drink a lot of root beer!)

So this was my state of mind at the time. I had had a casual discussion with my sister that spring, after I had turned 16, about maybe getting baptized in the Catholic church because maybe I needed to practice “something”. She wisely advised me not to get baptized just to please my mom and dad, that it wasn’t a big deal to them if I did or didn’t. I kind of shrugged off the advice, agreeing with her that that was a dumb reason to do it!

Soon after that discussion, I met a girl in my choir class at school. She just seemed to stand out from all the rest of the sopranos and altos. I knew I’d never seen her at a “beer party”, or heard her swear, or had seen her engage in the adolescent gossip we all enjoyed so much. I feel now that what I was seeing was the light of Christ in her eyes. We quickly became friends. On a Monday night after school I called and asked if she wanted to play tennis (this was close to June and no one plays tennis before 9pm, when the temperature drops to an acceptable level of 90 to 95 degrees…). She replied that she couldn’t because of “Family Home Evening”. When I asked what that meant, she said it was the one night of the week where the whole family stayed home and played games and did things together. When I replied, and I remember the words (or word) exactly: “gross!!” She indicated to me that she liked spending time with her family., to which I replied, “I hate my family!” That interaction stayed with me for more than a few days, as I wondered if everybody came from a family more fun that mine.

During this same time, I played on our high school softball team with my best friend who had been raised as a Baptist. One day after practice she said she was going to the Mormon church that night. Having just recently met my choir friend, I was intrigued why a Baptist would be going to a Mormon activity! She said, “if we go to this ‘Mutual’ thing twice a month, we can play ball all summer!” (Mutual is the youth program for young men and young women of the Church.) Well, that sounded like a great deal to me! So off we went. (The Church at the time allowed two non-Mormons to play on a team as long as they attended the youth program twice a week.)

As happens, I started dating Mormon boys. And wow, were they a class a higher than who I’d been hanging out with! They were opening doors for me, they didn’t swear, they were positive. they were respectful. And fun! In fact, I had more fun sober with them than I’d ever had with guys who’d been drinking and doing drugs! (Isn’t this ironic that the young men of the Church helped pave my way into the Church and thirty five years later, I still haven’t found one to marry!)

I began to date one in particular, two years older than I was, and preparing to leave for two years as a missionary in the next few months. We were swimming at my friend’s pool when a discussion we were having about the Church was the catalyst to my asking, “how can I find out more about your church and your doctrine?”. He indicated I could take a series of twelve lessons on the doctrine taught by the local missionaries of the Church. I’m not sure why I asked “what happens next?” but he told me that then I could be baptized. Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who’s talking about baptism?? He assured me that I didn’t have to be baptized. I could make that decision any time I wanted to or any time I didn’t. That seemed to suffice for me.

So before you know it, I began taking the discussions at his house. Not that my parents minded having them at my house. This was just for logistical reasons. (In fact, after I began the lessons my parents had a supposedly ‘casual’ conversation with me, telling me they wouldn’t mind at all if I decided to be Mormon, that every Mormon they’d ever known were outstanding people. Again, whoa, whoa, whoa! (But gee, whose parents wouldn’t mind their daughter joining a church that frowned on tobacco, alcohol, drugs, sex before marriage, lying and swearing?!)

I enjoyed the doctrine very much since it made absolute sense to me. The missionaries were a little stunned after telling me about the visit of God the Father and His son, Jesus Christ, to 14 year old Joseph Smith in 1820. That I believed it right out of the chute, first thing. I had always felt the same way Joseph Smith felt, that none of the religions I’d known of could have the full truth since the doctrine of each seemed to contradict all the rest. A falling away and a restoration of the Lord’s church seemed as simple as 2 + 2 to me. And I found it comforting as well, to know that Heavenly Father really was ‘behind-the-wheel’.

At the end of the twelve discussions, I completely accepted all of the doctrine and commandments I’d been taught- except for one. I’d read the Book of Mormon from cover to cover- believed it without any doubts. I had even agreed to never touch alcohol, tobacco, coffee or tea for the rest of my life (funny that I made that same commitment to my parents at one time or another, and still did it any way- and here these two twenty-something elders asked, and I never did any of them again). No premarital sex? Not a problem? Go to church three hours every Sunday? Piece of cake. The only remaining doubt I had was regarding black men not being able to hold the priesthood in the Church. It just seemed a little racist to me and I couldn’t get past that, no matter how much I believed all the rest. When I expressed my feelings to Gregg, he smiled and asked if I believed Joseph Smith was a prophet? Absolutely. He asked if I believed the current president of the Church was a prophet. You bet. As an incredibly already wise nineteen year old pre-missionary, he answered, “Then you can’t pick and choose what revelations you’re going to believe in.”

That one statement from a kid preparing for a mission has probably made more of an impact on my testimony in the last thirty five years than anything else has. (Happily, all worthy males of any race or color were extended the rights of the priesthood just four short years later. And look up Gladys Knight‘s comments regarding blacks and the Church- so wise!).

To make this already-long story a little shorter, I accepted the invitation to be baptized, and was baptized by my choir friend’s father two weeks later- just four months after I had the conversation with my sister about religion. I still find my conversion nothing short of a miracle.

My parents spoke at my missionary farewell just five years later, and have always been so supportive of my choice to spend my life among “the Mormons”. And what a wonderful life it’s been!

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Al Fox joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 2009. She’s been sharing her journey of faith on her blog, “In the Head of Al Fox.” She recently celebrated two years as a Latter-day Saint, and shared a letter she wrote about her conversion to the Mormon Church.

How I became a convert really has quite an easy answer. It was the spirit. It was the spirit that the missionaries had with them every time we met. It was the spirit that I could see in their eyes and hearts when they would teach me, and it was the spirit that had prompted me to keep going, keep learning, keep praying and to keep being excited about it all.

Sometimes people ask about what Mormons can or can’t do, and sometimes our standards can be seen by some as restrictive. But I love how Al talks about how making changes for God, in faith, made overcoming previous habits do-able and meaningful.

I had tried to quit [my bad habits] before but it was unbearable and could not succeed. But this time was different. This time I was getting something in return. This time I had faith. This time I was starting to work on my salvation. This time I was starting my eternal journey. This time I knew I was going to become who was meant to be all along. And this time, I knew, I could continue to put my trust in the spirit and in the Lord.

The Spirit led her to make the choice to be baptized, and she describes the happiness she has felt since that day. She was, as she said, already a happy person, but the gospel brought something more into her life.

That morning [the morning she decided to be baptized] I was incredibly happy, a happiness I have never been before and didn’t even know existed. That happiness I had that morning has not gone away yet. Since then, and through my baptism, and through receiving the Holy Ghost, that happiness has only gotten stronger. Every day with all my energy I will testify that the Lord’s path is open to all those that are willing, and is the only eternal path to a never ending, overwhelming, indescribable happiness that continues to grow…..

As soon as I stepped out of the baptismal waters, I felt anxious more than anything else. Anxious to tell my story, anxious to talk about everything I learned, anxious to teach what I know from my experiences, anxious to motivate and inspire….

The phrase that comes to mind when I read her words and hear her talk is that she is “on fire.” Now, in addition to her blog, Al is sharing her story and her faith through videos. In the video (linked below) entitled “Never Alone,” she shares her testimony of the Savior, and of the happiness the gospel of Jesus Christ has brought into her life.

She’s also shared her testimony of The Book of Mormon at BookofMormonBelieve.com

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