The manner of my conversion

Because of great trials, I've been drawn to turn more to God this year.  It's too bad it took great trials to get my efforts increased to where they are now.  And it's probably too bad that even now, my efforts aren't better and more consistent.  Yet I've seen the results of that closeness with God.  As I've turned over more of my will to Him, He has been an increasing presence for me, providing great strength and peace in troubled times.

My Patriarchal Blessing talks a lot about missionary work.  Maybe that's common in blessings. I'm not familiar with anyone's but my own.  It talks about my skills with words, with the application of the gospel to peoples' lives, and how I will be able to convince others of the truthfulness of the gospel. Unfortunately, my own actions prevented me from serving a mission as a young man.

As I invited the Spirit more in my life, it was clear that I needed to do more to spread the gospel.  This blog is one result.  I also felt impressed to write to missionaries and ask them for advice on how to be a better member missionary.  I taught fourth grade ten years ago, and my former students are now mission age.  At least six are out now.  One replied that I should read the scriptures for a half hour each day and pray for opportunities to share the gospel, and that such opportunities would come.  I haven't missed a day of reading the scriptures since.

I never learned the skills of a missionary--to be able to talk to total strangers about my most personal and intimate thoughts, beliefs, and feelings.  I've been praying for many, many nights to be able to find and recognize someone with whom I can share, that I'd recognize that opportunity for what it was, and that I'd be able to share the good news effectively.

Tonight, Helaman 6:4 struck me: "And it came to pass that many of the Lamanites did come down into the land of Zarahemla, and did declare unto the people of the Nephites the manner of their conversion, and did exhort them to faith and repentance."  There's a scriptural example of missionary work.  Tell the story of your conversion, and exhort those you tell to faith and repentance.  That I think I can do.

And the thing is, the manner of my conversion is based entirely on faith and repentance. Every time.  (I--like the Nephites in the Book of Mormon--have been converted more than once. It doesn't always take the first time.)  But recently, just after my divorce, I really needed conversion again, and that's what I'll count as the conversion that counts.

I don't know whom I'll be able to share this with, but following the example of the converted Lamanites from Helaman 6, here's the manner of my conversion, as recorded in my journal on Easter of this year, about eight weeks after my ex-wife said that she would be filing for divorce.

So, on Sunday night, when the trip was about over, I asked Adam (my friend of 20 years) for a blessing. Instead of just saying yes, he asked what I hoped to get from a blessing. Well, out came eight weeks of hopelessness and emptiness.

What do I want? I want comfort! I can accept that no matter how righteous I am (only so-so), and no matter how much I try and make spiritually directed right decisions, no right thing will ever be more right than another person’s ability to choose something else. And when you’re in a partnership, every decision made affects the partner. So, I don’t expect God to force her to choose me, even if it would have been the right thing to do.

But where did He go? Why at my most vulnerable, when I most need to feel His love and support, why is it then that I feel empty? Why do prayers bounce off the ceiling? I can remember so many times when I have felt that love and warmth, so why withhold it now? Now is when I’m most vulnerable. Is this when I get abandoned and left to my own strength to deal with the most painful part of my life, when I have a repeated history of weakness and failure? What do I need? I need hope and comfort! Where are you, Father?

And suddenly, there you are, in the laid-on-hands of one of my longest friends. In the power of the priesthood.  In the memory of mercies past and the promise of more to come. In the forgiveness of past and current sins. In His patience with my impatience. In family who love all parts of me, even the dark and sinister parts that come out at times like this. And in the tears that fall as I write this in such gratitude for the healing power of the Atonement made manifest in me. Again.

That feeling is a gift from God that anyone can have if they exercise faith.  I was in a horrible state--depressed, angry, unworthy.  But the act of asking for peace and comfort and believing it will come is the act of faith that entitles us to the very peace and comfort we seek.  Trials don't disappear, but they come with reassurance of the Love of a Father in Heaven who watches over and comforts us.

And with that, I exhort you to try asking for what you need with faith, believing that it's possible to receive.  As the scriptures say, "But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words" (Alma 32:27).

You'll be warmly aware of how loving God is, and how much he wants you to feel the peace and comfort you desire.