My Conversion Story
I always knew our Father in Heaven had something more in mind for his children. It took me twenty-four years of searching to find it. Now that I have it, the most violent of tempests unleashed by man or nature couldn’t tear me away.
Cultural background
I am first generation American. My mother was born and raised in Germany, my father in Egypt. In the Middle East, men have a more dominant influence in the culture while women take a more subservient role. My mother deferred to my father and raised us with his cultural traditions—food, language, music, friends, and religion. I was baptized and raised Greek Orthodox because there were no Coptic Orthodox churches in America at the time.
Testimony of a Five-year-old
I didn’t understand the Greek language, so the worship service (liturgy) was elusive to me as a child. Even so, I was drawn to the stories of Jesus Christ when the priest gave the sermon (in English). Even the Byzantine icons, decorated with gold paint, rich blues and reds, and exaggerated features in the faces, fingers and folds of the garments, couldn’t distance me from a desire to be close to Jesus Christ. Opportunities to draw near to him found their way to me. Burned in my memory was the message of a TV commercial, where a little girl becomes disheartened when no one in her family wants to talk to her about her first day in kindergarten, so she sits down with the family dog and tells him. The final words of the narrator rang true in my little mind—children will go to the dogs if no one will pay attention to them. A message from the Church of Jesus Christ of…I couldn’t understand the rest of what they said. But I understood the message that our Savior will always love us. And so would the dog.
Testimony of an Eight-year-old
My best friend in Second Grade was Jewish. I was deeply concerned for her soul after she died, since I knew she didn’t believe in Jesus Christ. I asked in Sunday school, “What will happen to my Jewish friend when she dies?” The answers I received broke my heart. They ranged from “I don’t know (which is frightening to a child wondering about salvation) to “Well, she can’t go to heaven if she’s not baptized,” (which was cruel and unacceptable). How could a loving God keep my sweet friend out of heaven because she was not fortunate enough to be born orthodox? It made no sense to me at all. This was not the Jesus I loved. There had to be something more.
Again at Nine
Tucked away in my memory is a time when I came home from school one afternoon, turned on the TV, and saw a commercial for a movie about ancient myths and legends. The trailer showed scenes from the Bible like Noah’s ark. Then it talked about an ancient Aztec myth of a bearded white God that came to visit the people and promised to come again. Something in my heart spoke clearly to my mind, “That’s Jesus Christ”. And the commercial was over. I came home the next day and turned on the TV again, hoping I’d catch the same commercial. I wanted to know more about this film. Was it in the theaters? Was it a made-for-TV-movie? I tried for days and never found it again. But I never forgot the impression it left me—Jesus Christ had visited the Americas.
More Truth at Fourteen
In high school I became friends with a member of the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (now known as the Community of Christ). He told me about the history of his church. A fourteen-year-old boy named Joseph Smith in the 1800’s was curious about religion. The churches in his town preached different doctrine from the same Bible. After much studying and praying, he read in the Bible, James 1:5, “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God who giveth to all men liberally and upbraideth not, and the truth will be given to you.” He took this scripture to heart and found a secluded place in a grove of trees to pray. He had a miraculous vision: both Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ appeared to him. They told him not to join any of the churches, as they had all fallen into corruption and no longer follow the same doctrine as the church in Christ’s day. Joseph was to be the modern-day prophet to usher in the last dispensation of time, restoring the gospel as it was originally intended.
My friend continued and told me about the book of Mormon, a book of scripture similar to the Bible which dealt with God’s children on the American continent. When my friend talked to me about Joseph Smith, the Book of Mormon, and Christ visiting the American continent, I knew at once it was all true. He gave me a pamphlet about Joseph Smith and my heart burned each time I read it. I met with the elders of his church. Each time we talked of Joseph Smith I felt the same burning. I remembered in my own upbringing how Christ loved everyone. This book was proof of that. I remembered the commercial about the ancient legend of the bearded white God visiting the Americas and this was evidence of that event. I knew this was true and I wanted to learn more. But my strict orthodox cultural background was a real barrier. Open conversation about different ideas or different religions was not something we had in our family. It was practically forbidden. This led to a turbulent atmosphere at home, even hostile at times. I was not about to give up what I had found, so I explored in secret.
When I visited the RLDS church, it was not what I expected. It seemed like any other Protestant church. I didn’t feel the same burning as I did when I read about Joseph Smith. My desire to explore the RLDS church faded. My friend graduated and we slowly drifted apart. I kept that pamphlet, for reasons I couldn’t explain. And whenever I thought about Joseph Smith, I had no question in my heart that he was a true prophet of God.
Ten Years Later in Japan
I had put religion aside for ten years. I fell in love with a wonderful man who was raising his five-year-old son from a previous marriage. We set a date for our own wedding. In the back of my mind I knew I needed to give my step-son a spiritual foundation, but I had all but forgotten about Joseph Smith and the burning of my heart. At the height of making wedding plans we received a job opportunity that we couldn’t pass up—a chance to live in Japan for six months. Even without the language skills, we jumped at the offer. Two months after the wedding, my husband, step-son and I were on a plane to Japan.
Being a newlywed, a new mom, a stranger in a foreign country and not knowing the native language is beyond difficult. It was becoming a desperate situation. I had a child to raise and no one to help. So I prayed. For the first time in a decade I prayed for help. I told God I was sorry for not keeping in touch. I told him I couldn’t do this on my own. I asked him to show me the way.
Meeting the Missionaries
The next morning there was a knock at the door. A tall, red-haired twenty-year-old American and a short Japanese young man both dressed in a suit, tie and black name-tag stood on the other side. The American pointed to me and said, “You’re not Japanese.” I smiled and said, “Neither are you.” He smiled back and introduced himself and his companion as representatives from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The name was familiar, but not exactly the same, but the feeling was unmistakable—just like the burning I had when I first felt it ten years ago. I told them I knew all about Joseph Smith, the Book of Mormon, and Christ visiting America. They were shocked and thrilled. They asked to leave a copy of the Book of Mormon with me and schedule a time to come visit again. Ironically, I never had my own copy of the Book of Mormon. I was excited to read it.
Don’t Take Our Word for It
The red-haired American came back the next day with another American missionary. The next several weeks were amazing. I had a million questions about the relationship we have with our Father in Heaven, his plan for his children, and where we would end up after this life. I met with them weekly, prayed every night, and read from the Book of Mormon daily.
Anytime we were with the missionaries, it felt brighter inside and out. They were cheerful and loving, thoughtful and kind. We went on outings with bunch of them. Most could not speak English but their spirit spoke more clearly to me than any verbal language ever could. I felt safe with them, comfortable, like I was home. And when the two Americans taught me, I felt a strong spirit fill the room. Their invitation was sincere; with every lesson they taught, every question they answered, every testimony they bore they added this statement: “Don’t take our word for it. Pray to Heavenly father and see what he has to say.” The invitation was to pray with an open heart, with real intent. I knew what that meant. I knew I had a personal relationship with God, unique to my situation. I knew I could trust God to tell me the truth. I knew I didn’t need to fear what anyone else would say, either for or against the church. God would not lie.
One in Purpose
The missionaries put to rest so many of my childhood concerns. I never felt comfortable with the theology of the trinity. It was so obvious to me that our Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ were two separate beings and together with the Holy Spirit they were united in purpose as the Godhead. My former church taught differently. But even instances in the Bible contradicted what they taught. When Jesus was baptized a voice from heaven declared, “This is my beloved Son in whom I am well pleased.” (Matthew 3:16-17). Who else could this have been but our Heavenly Father declaring his approval of his son? In John, chapter 17, Jesus offers the great intercessory prayer. The entire chapter is a record of his conversation with his Father. He prays that the disciples will be united and work together as he and his father are united. (John 17:18-23). Who was Jesus praying to in the Garden of Gethsemane if not his Heavenly Father? (Mark 14:36) When Stephen had his vision, he saw Jesus Christ at the right hand of his Father (Acts 7:55-56). The missionaries pointed out many more scriptures that testified of the separate nature of God and Jesus. Maybe this was why when I originally learned of Joseph Smith seeing both Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, I knew it was true.
God’s Other Sheep
I learned how when Jesus was teaching the Jews he told them of “other sheep that are not of this fold”, (John 10:16), whom he must go to and teach as well. Everyone thought they were the gentiles. But they were the people in America. They were descendants of the Jews having come from Jeremiah’s time, crossing the ocean and populating the Promised Land on the American continent. This confirmed to me that God and Christ loved all the people in the world and that no one would be forgotten. It linked the Book of Mormon to the Bible in a very tangible way and gave proof of its authenticity.
Families Can Be Together Forever
The clincher was the temple. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints uses temples like in the Old Testament days. The members of the church follow a practice called Baptism for the Dead, which Paul talks about in 1 Corinthians 15:29. It was practiced even after Christ’s ministry had ended, but it was lost over the centuries. It was meant to give the saving ordinance of baptism to people who did not have the opportunity to hear the gospel while they were alive. Members would stand in as proxy for them and be baptized in their behalf. No church I had previously studied about prior to this could account for the people who didn’t receive baptism in their lifetime. It made no sense to me that God would exclude them from heaven by virtue of their birth place and heritage, especially if they would have accepted the gospel had they been given the chance to hear it. To baptize by proxy is the ultimate act of kindness one could give to another individual.
Other sacred ordinances are performed in the temple too, including sealing families together for time and all eternity. No one will be lost in God’s eternal plan: babies who die in infancy can be sealed to their parents. The family unit that brings us so much happiness on earth will continue for eternity.
When I learned that these practices indeed take place in the LDS temples, I knew this was God’s church on earth. But I needed one more thing before I would join.
The Girl and the Missionary in White
The missionaries invited me to a baptism across town. I told them, “no thank you,” but when they came that afternoon to ask again, I said, “ok.” I remember thinking to myself, “why did you say that?” while I got my jacket and left the apartment.
A woman who was in her twenties and a young missionary were dressed in white, sitting in the front of the chapel. Everyone else was in their Sunday dress. I was the only foreigner there, besides the missionaries. After a hymn, prayer, and short talk, all in Japanese, the missionaries led us to the room which held the baptismal font. We all sat on the floor, Japanese-style for the baptism. The missionary in white stepped into the font, then turned and reached out his hand. The girl in white took it and stepped into the water. Then they turned, came into position, his right arm lifted to the square. They bowed their heads. He recited the prayer, then dipped her fully under the water and lifted her gently up. I didn’t understand a word of the ceremony, but my body felt more alive than I’d ever felt before. My eyes were opened with a spiritual understanding I had never known. I was paralyzed to move. It took me a few minutes to gain composure and rise. My mind raced with thoughts and emotions I couldn’t explain. I had witnessed something amazing and I had no way to express what I felt. So I said nothing for the rest of the service and for the entire ride home, which made the missionaries very worried.
A Testimony of My Own
A few days later I called them and asked to meet them at church. I didn’t tell them why. We went into the chapel and I asked to go up into the choir loft. It seemed like the highest place in the room. For me that meant it would be closest to God. I told them I couldn’t get the image of the baptism out of my mind. Everywhere I looked, the girl in the font with the missionary in white flashed in my sight. It was driving me crazy and I needed to know what was happening. They explained it so clearly. “You have a testimony of the gospel. All those times you felt the burning feeling in your heart, you were experiencing the Holy Spirit testifying to you of truth. You know the church is true. Now you have to decide what to do about it.”
I knew they were right. I had been looking for truth since I was a little girl. I had been given many small and sweet promptings from the Holy Spirit that led me to this moment. My Father in Heaven protected me all my life and led me to find the missionaries in Japan where I was free to study, ask questions, ponder, and pray, with no one to stop me. Everything I studied made sense. And the strong feelings of warmth of heart and clarity of mind confirmed that not only was this Christ’s original church restored on earth, but I needed to be part of it. So I got baptized in Japan as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Finding the RLDS Pamphlet Again
About five years after returning from Japan, tucked away in an old box of high school memories, I found the pamphlet from the RLDS church—the one about Joseph Smith. I smiled as I looked at it. It had meant so much to me years ago. If it weren’t for that pamphlet, the burning I felt when I held it, I wouldn’t have found the rest of the truth. I opened it up and began to read it again. To my surprise, the words inside were not clear, but vague. There was little mention of Joseph Smith’s vision and no mention that he saw Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. The pamphlet didn’t bear testimony of Joseph Smith—the Holy Spirit did. The Holy Spirit knew I would remember Joseph Smith as a prophet of God. With this memory I would find the rest of the truth one day.
Now and Forever
I have been a happy member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints ever since. My wonderful husband has not yet joined but he supports me 100%. My step-son served a full time mission in the Philippines for two years. It is my desire that my family will sit down in heaven together, united as one.
As you may have guessed, I met lots of contention over my decision to join. Those stories are for another post. But anyone who has ever mocked me or doubted my decision hasn’t experienced what I have—they have not read the book of Mormon, nor have they prayed with a sincere heart, with real intent to know of its truthfulness. They have not met with members of the church to discuss the details. Until they do, they cannot know what I know.
No amount of bigotry, bullying, shunning, or mistreatment can dissuade me from my decision. Since becoming a member, I have seen and felt far too many spiritual experiences to ever doubt what I know is true. I know I have a Heavenly Father who loves me. I know Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior and through his atonement, all will be made right in the world again. I know the Book of Mormon is the word of God as is the Bible. I know the church in Christ’s day has been restored to the earth by a prophet named Joseph Smith. I know we are led by modern-day prophets today. And I’m forever on the Lord’s team.
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