This is an inspiring story of a young man whose life was changed from drug and alcohol addiction and suicidal thoughts to faith and hope. The change happened gradually, through small and simple things: by prayer, fasting, patience, responsiveness to the still and small voice of God’s Spirit, and the simple and kind action of a friend.

(The next time I think a ward party or picnic is not a big deal, I will remember this story. God works through small and simple things!)

You never know where, how, or when God will answer your prayers. Or where, how, or when you can be an answer to someone’s prayer.

The post Through Small and Simple Things appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

Editor’s note: Below, Paradox shares the story of her conversion to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. As she has pondered the Joseph Smith story, she has found parallels that were meaningful to her. She includes quotes (in italics) which are verses from Joseph Smith History.

“It seems as though the adversary was aware, at a very early period of my life, that I was destined to prove a disturber and an annoyer of his kingdom…”

I cannot say for sure when my conversion began. For as far back as I can remember, I have believed in God. My parents didn’t make much of an effort to teach me this, nor did they even know enough about my feelings to encourage them. But from my earliest memories, I remember talking to God about many things in my life. I remember times when I would lay in my bed and just talk to Him, and those conversations were sometimes easy and comfortable. Other times, I would be scared, and my prayers were important to my safety, even at a young age.

Who God was, or where He was—whether He was just on the other side of the ceiling, or clear on the other side of the universe—didn’t matter much to me then. The one thing I knew for certain, from all of those experiences, was that He was listening. I may have wondered just how much He was doing for me personally, but I knew He heard every word of what I said to Him.

Somewhere in the years that followed, I stopped praying. My parents separated, and life was finally quiet. I drew closer to my mother—and that was what I wanted more than anything else. She had always seemed so angry and distant from me, but being with her and seeing her be a single parent left a permanent impression on me. I saw strength in her that grew as we—my mother, my little sister, and I—tried to heal from much of the hardship we had known in life.

Eventually that desire for healing brought me back to the familiar desire to know God, and to learn for myself what I truly believed.

“I often said to myself: What is to be done? Who of all these parties are right; or, are they all wrong together?”

I was 14 when I started going to church with my friend Alyssa. As I attended their meetings, I wondered if perhaps I was doing something wrong. I was surrounded by people who could raise their arms in praise and they felt something by being in church. I just stood there feeling foolish, wondering why God wasn’t reaching my reaching the way the pastors said He would.

I was 15 when I met my first Mormon family. It was easy to see they were different—special. Their sons treated me with dignity and respect I had not known from many young men, and within a few short months they invited me to a Mutual [youth] activity. This activity was based on the Three Kingdoms doctrine—complete with Judgment Bar—and it seemed so bizarre to me at the time. I tried to resist what I was hearing, to continue being an impartial observer. I felt I didn’t know enough to make any informed decisions yet, but in my heart it felt wrong to resist the messages I was hearing. That frightened me. I didn’t feel ready, and my friends certainly had not pushed me—but my feelings were bringing me to conclusions I wasn’t ready to face, and realities I couldn’t yet understand.

I spoke to my pastor about what I had experienced, and he wasn’t pleased. But even when he warned me to stay away from the Mormons, everything in my being resisted that warning. I wanted an explanation, not the suggestion to ignore what was becoming harder and harder to deny. And the accusations he made of Mormons not being Christian—mostly based on their view of the Godhead—didn’t account for how Christian they looked to me, the warmth I felt in their presence, and the light I could see in their eyes.

“Never did any passage of scripture come with more power to the heart of man than this did at this time to mine.”

It was in this season of my life that the first spark of my faith ignited. I was looking up some scriptures in the Bible my youth pastor had given me, when I got the distinct impression, an irrepressible feeling to search through the scriptures for… I wasn’t sure what. I hadn’t read the Bible since I was a little girl with my first children’s Bible, and I had never read anything past Exodus before.

But this was different. Somewhere in those hundreds of pages was a message I needed to find, and I couldn’t stop until I found it. I hadn’t felt anything this powerful before. It was something I couldn’t flee from, ignore, or deny.

Eventually I ended up in Psalms at a scripture Alyssa had given me. It was a beautiful verse, but it wasn’t mine. I wanted the verse that would mean something to me, something I could hold onto in my heart the way my all of my Christian friends did—to have what my Mormon friends called a testimony. I could feel I was so very close, and I wandered around in those chapters, not really reading—until I came to Psalm 27.

“…when my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.”

My eyes stood transfixed on that verse. I read it over and over again.

Then I wept.

It was the first sign I’d had since I was a child that God could hear me. He was real, and He was watching over me. He wasn’t ashamed of me because of my family, or the wrong things that I had done in my life. He had not forgotten me, and He promised me then that He never would. I could feel for myself that God loved me, and that I could love Him in return.

But as much as I had always wanted that experience—prayed for it and sought it out—it wasn’t enough. Somehow, I knew I needed more.

“I at length came to the determination to ‘ask of God,’ concluding that if he gave wisdom to them that lacked wisdom, and would give liberally, and not upbraid, I might venture.”

This personal experience with God, as reassuring as it was that I was on the right track, did not solve my problem. I needed to know what to do about a church—if God even cared one way or the other about what church I went to.

If I was to stay with my Baptist friends, hoping only for rare and fleeting glances of God instead of the powerful and genuine interaction with divinity that I craved, I wanted God Himself to tell me that.

If I was to join with my Mormon friends, as I was beginning to suspect I should, I needed more than suspicion to help me in that choice. I could sense already the great personal sacrifices being a Mormon would require from me. Mormons had a lot of rules, and I didn’t like rules. But the things they told me made so much sense, and I learned more about God in the few brief times I shared with them than I did after a year in another church.

The longer things went on, the more obvious it became to me that the time for a decision was coming, and I would have to make the first step alone.

“I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me…”

It was January 22nd the first time I went to my first Sacrament meeting.

From the moment I stepped into the chapel, I could feel a difference all around me. It was warm and safe, comfortable and quiet. I remember smiling brightly and thinking to myself it feels so good in here.

I thought about that for several minutes, wondering what it was I felt. It was the peace I craved to find in a church that goes beyond people sitting together quietly in a room. It was something completely outside of myself, powerful and heartfelt. Genuine.

I could feel for myself that God was there. And it felt as if I were coming home for the very first time.

By the end of the three hours, I wanted to stay longer. I wanted to hear more. Having finally tasted of the Bread of Life, I hungered for it like I’d never wanted anything before in my life. Having tasted the sweetness of that Living Water, I would soon decide I didn’t want to live without it.

A week later after my second time attending church, I found myself thinking about being baptized. As if by invitation, Satan’s opposition to that decision began, and I disappeared from church for about two months. But as I wandered down familiar but forbidden roads, I knew I was about to walk away from the best thing that had ever happened to me.

“… It no sooner appeared than I found myself delivered from the enemy which held me bound.”

God was watching over me as I struggled to understand and find my way, this much I know. When the time was right, I began focusing on the baptism I wanted more than ever, and I set to work to make it happen.

From April until August, I took discussions from the ward [congregation] mission leaders because our branch had no full-time missionaries. I learned about the promise I was preparing to make, the lifestyle I had to live to honor that promise, and to make changes to my behavior that would invite the Spirit of God into my life. I began to see that God had the power to change me, to make me better, and to bring me a greater peace and abiding joy than I had ever known before.

At the very end of the summer, I was baptized and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Since then, it has become the source of personal and spiritual triumph that I could never have obtained in any other way. My relationship with my Heavenly Father and my Savior Jesus Christ is wonderful. I tell my Father everything, and I cannot say enough about how wonderful Jesus Christ has been to me. He has healed the wounds that no one else could even touch. He has made my life rich through the mercies of His atonement, washing away my sins so I do not carry burdens beyond my strength to bear. I love Them both so very much; more deeply than I could ever hope to put into words.

I spend my days now keeping the commandments of God to show Him I love Him—going to church, paying a full tithe, attending the temple, and obeying the counsel of the prophets. I enjoy doing family history work, and performing the ordinances that will reunite my family and bring us great joy in the eternity I long so very much to see.

I know that heaven is real by the same power I’ve always known that God is real—by the Holy Spirit of the Lord who reveals all things divine to anyone who asks in faith, believing they shall receive an answer.

And dear to me is the Prophet Joseph Smith, who showed me that I can ask of God and receive answers to my prayers. I respect him and love his dearly for the sacrifices he made for this Church, for they are many, and I believe in the goodness of his life. I believe he was a prophet and he truly restored the Church of Jesus Christ to the earth. I believe his life because it has been my privilege to know his life, and I can no more deny what happened to Joseph Smith than I could deny what happened to me.

I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ. AMEN.

The post Portraits of Mormon Women: “Paradox” appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

My name is Lecia. I am 37 years old. I’ve been married for 17 years and I have four children, ranging in age from 15 to 4. I’ve long regretted the fact that I have no interesting hobbies to reveal, but I do love to read and write. I’m currently serving as first counselor in the Primary, where my little charges insist on telling me a lot more about their families than their parents ever wanted me to know!

I was born into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, but I believe I was converted around the age of 16. At the time, I was serving as a youth tour guide at the Arizona Temple Visitor’s Center. Because of this, I was spending a lot of extra time studying the gospel and trying to find answers to questions that people of other faiths often ask about the church. I spent quite a bit more time than usual on my knees during that period of my life, and I just remember one night when I felt a sweet, peaceful feeling that what I was learning and teaching others was true. I have often found that the experiences I’ve had with the Spirit came with the sacrifice of extra time and effort on my part.

Inside my own head, I often think of my life as a quiet crucible. I haven’t experienced any of the truly heart-rending sorrows this world seems to hand out so readily – my children are healthy and sound, I have a loving and supportive family, and have never suffered abuse or handicap. What I do have is a sweet spouse who has been dealing with chronic pain for the last fifteen years. This long and tedious trial has certainly been worse for him than for me, but letting go of my ideas about being a full-time mom, and learning to carry all of the responsibilities that two parents would generally share has had its difficult moments, to be sure. But I have seen in my own life the Lord blessing me with compensating blessings, and that is what helps me when I feel down. I know Heavenly Father loves me and is aware of my struggles because of the many little hand-holds he leaves for me as I climb this mountain. For every hardship, a compensating blessing is given. For me, these blessings are simple, but many – I almost never get sick, so I have been able to run our household and take care of my family every day, with very few exceptions. My children were blessed with sharp minds, so the time that I don’t have to struggle through their homework with them isn’t missed, because they don’t need it.

This past year has added yet another blessing. Like so many others, my hours of employment shrank, along with my salary, and even my strictest budget tells me that I have a $300 shortfall every month. But somehow, after a whole year of this, I have yet to dip into my savings. I simply can’t explain it, but I know that I am living out my own story of the woman with a little bit of oil in her cruse that lasted until the famine was over. I’m afraid to even discuss it too much, it’s such a wonder.

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For more portraits of Mormon Women, please click here.

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“Seal to me.”

Three days after my husband’s death, I looked at his picture in our bedroom. While looking at the picture, I heard my husband’s voice say to me, “Seal to me.” My husband had taken me several times to the Visitor’s Center at the Oakland Temple, and to the Sacramento Temple Open House, he had been my very first missionary and had taught me what happens in Temples. I knew what he wanted me to do.

My husband converted to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in 1985. At the time, he was at a critical time in his life. He lost his home, all his money, was in the middle of a divorce and was losing his family. He had his first heart attack during that time. A Mormon friend gave him a copy of the Book of Mormon and asked him to study it. The Book of Mormon changed my husband’s life.

I met my husband years later online. I traveled a lot for my job as a TV producer in Bangkok, Thailand and only had Internet access one day a week. Several times when I came back to the office I would see ads for Match.com on my computer screen. I wondered what it was and filled in my information. My husband-to-be also traveled extensively for work, but upon returning from a business trip to his home in America, his computer screen declared he had a match and on the screen was my profile. We started corresponding. After 6 months of email and phone calls he came to Thailand to meet me.

On his trip to Thailand he told me he knew I was the one, and asked me to marry him, but he said, “Don’t answer until you visit me in America.” I came to America and felt like I had come back home. We courted for two years, and after asking my family’s permission we married in 2002.

I did not know while we were dating that my husband was a Mormon. After we started our life together he took me to the Oakland Temple Visitors’ Center often. We watched movies about the Church. He frequently invited the missionaries to our home. I was raised Buddhist in Bangkok, but attended Catholic private schools all through my life and was acquainted with Christianity. But on the first day I went to Catholic school my grandmother pulled me aside and told me “Don’t convert.” Although I enjoyed the messages my husband and these videos were sharing with me, I thought I did not need to convert to Christianity to be a good person.

On May 7, 2007 my husband had a heart attack in our home. My next-door neighbor, who happened to be LDS, rushed over to help give my husband CPR. He died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. My neighbor called the Bishop of my husband’s church and the Bishop and some other members of my husband’s ward met me at the hospital. I did not know them, but I knew my husband did. It was well past midnight, so I was surprised people would come and visit me. When the Doctor confirmed that my husband had passed and there was nothing left to do I was lost. Bishop Beck said, “Don’t worry. We will walk with you and help you through this.” The Bishop and another ward member gave me my first Priesthood blessing that night at the hospital and I felt better.

The next morning, someone knocked on my door. It was the Relief Society President from the ward. She knew I did not have a driver’s license, and told me she would make herself available to give me rides anywhere I needed to go. Members of my husband’s congregation started delivering food that day.

Bishop Beck called the funeral home and assisted me with all the details of the funeral. We had a memorial at the church and since my husband was a veteran, he was buried at a military cemetery. Bishop Beck helped me arrange all the details with the Veteran’s Association. There was so much paperwork!

I was so surprised. These people didn’t know me, but they knew my husband and wanted to help. My husband’s message to seal to him was fresh in my mind when, after the funeral, I talked to Bishop Beck and said, “I am ready to discuss with the missionaries.” For five years missionaries had come to my home and I would not listen. I was ready to listen.

I was baptized on June 23, 2007. On my baptism day, a brother in my ward came to me to apologize. “I’m so sorry Krittiya, I have misspelled your name on the program.” But when I looked, it was the same way my husband had misspelled my name. I knew he was with me.

After baptism, I talked to my home teachers and visiting teachers about getting ready to go to the Temple. I took a Temple prep class and prepared myself spiritually to go to the Temple. On June 27, 2008 I went to the Oakland Temple and was sealed for time and all eternity to my husband. I cried the entire time. I knew my husband was there with me. He was very happy too.

I know that through the sealing powers offered in the Holy Temple my husband and I can be together forever, and that gives me peace.

Krittiya grew up in Bangkok, Thailand. She attended Catholic private schools before graduating from Thammast University, Bangkok, in journalism. She had never met a Mormon in Bangkok before meeting her husband, but had read in a magazine that Donny Osmond was a Mormon. She did not make the connection between the word “Mormon” and the Thai translation of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints while growing up in Bangkok. Krittiya now realizes that every Friday night, the LDS missionaries would host a TV show in Bangkok. We wanted to provide that translation so others could make the connection between the word “Mormon” and the Thai translation of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

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by Hannah

On July 22 of this year, I commemorated an anniversary of sorts. Twenty years ago on that day, I was baptized, along with my sister, and became a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was something I had looked forward to for a while. Earlier that spring, my mom started coming back to church and my sister and I came too. We wanted to be baptized, so we started meeting with the missionaries. I can still remember some of our lessons with them, and being touched by the Holy Ghost that what they taught us was true. My aunt and uncle came out to San Diego with their family and my Uncle Ben baptized & confirmed both of us – he later would baptize my brother, and finally my dad. I had been at Girl’s Camp the week before my baptism and so many girls from camp came to support me. It is a day I will never forget, and I can’t believe 20 years have passed.

I don’t think I realized at the time how pivotal that day would be in my life. It helped set my whole family on a path that led to being sealed in the Los Angeles Temple. It helped set me on a personal path that got me through high school relatively unscathed. It led me to Brigham Young University – which was definitely the place for me. It led me to my wonderful husband and to the Salt Lake Temple, where we were married and sealed. It has made it possible for our two beautiful children to be ours forever. While the last 20 years have not been completely blissful, even in the difficult times, my membership in the Church has blessed me immensely, strengthened me when my strength was gone, provided me with an eternal perspective when my own was myopic, and helped me realize how much Heavenly Father loves me and has a hand in my life. That wonderful day, 20 years ago, truly has made all the difference! I can’t imagine my life without the gospel of Jesus Christ.

The post First Person: And it has made all the difference! appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

Hermana Olmos converted to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints when she was 10 years old along with her family. Reflecting on that time, she says:

“The first time the Elders knocked on my door they asked for a glass of water, which my mother gave them but when they wanted to share the message my mom said, ‘No thank you. I’m OK with my religion.’ The second time the Elders came, my father let them in. My mom was mad. But she must not have been so mad because she met the Elders in December and was baptized in February.” Hermana Olmos smiled at the memory.

Hermana Olmos loved studying with the Elders when they came to her house. She especially loved the part when they said that families can be together forever. I thought, “I want to live with my family forever.”

On Hermana Olmos’ baptismal day, she was baptized in a small local lake in the town of Zicatepec along with her 8-year-old sister. Her parents had previously been baptized. “I felt so good when I was baptized. I felt I was on my way to having an eternal family.”

In Mexico, Sister Olmos attended the Calipan Branch [a branch is a small congregation in the Mormon faith, smaller than a ward] in Calipan Mexico. There were 20 – 24 members in her branch and they met in a member’s home. While there, Sister Olmos served as a Counselor in the Young Women’s program. For activities, the leaders took the girls to LDS dances in other cities, played sports and went camping.

When asked why she wanted to serve a mission Sister Olmos said, “Always when I was learning the Gospel I saw that the Elders were happy teaching the Gospel. I thought I would want to teach the Gospel like them. When I was 20, I felt scared during my interview to serve a mission. Then I read in the Doctrine & Covenants 82:10 “I the Lord am bound when ye do what I say, but when ye do not what I say, ye have no promise.” I wanted the blessings of serving a mission so I had to serve. Also, I really know that families can live together forever. I want all families to know that.”

When asked if there was a time when she knew God answered her prayers Sister Olmos said, “All the time. When I was flying to the Missionary Training Center in Utah, I did not understand any English. I thought AAAAH! I want to return to my house. So on the plane, I prayed and read the scriptures in Spanish. The person sitting next to me said something to me in English that I understood a little. Then he talked to another person and she spoke to me in Spanish. This made me SO HAPPY, because I knew that Heavenly Father loved me.”

The post Mormon Women on a Mission: Branching Out appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

An atypically hot summer’s afternoon in a Scottish suburb found me looking curiously through the glass doors of a Mormon Church building. A kindly lady came out and asked if she could help me. I told her I wanted to join the Church, and, seeming a little taken aback (probably feeling a LOT taken aback), she invited me in and introduced me to a young man who she felt would be able to answer any questions I had.

Read the compelling conversion story of a Mormon woman named Alison here.

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Read more conversion stories here.

Would you like to share your conversion story? Have you already written it online and would like us to link to it? Please let us know at gmail using either of the following usernames: ‘mormonwomen’ or ‘mormonwoman’

The post <i>First Person</i>: Alison’s conversion story appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.