I’ve been a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for my entire life. In some ways it’s safe to say that I’ve always had a testimony. I’ve always know that the Church was true. The faith of a child came easily to me and carried with me as I grew older. I had no problem believing that the path I was on was the path the Lord would want me to be on. The gospel just felt right. It made sense. I believed it and I lived it. I very seldom did anything against my beliefs, and when I did, I repented speedily. I loved the feeling of being good.
However, there are two parts to any conversion. There are two levels. I knew the Church was true. What I didn’t know yet was that it was true for me. The gospel worked, it made sense and I could tell living by its values made me a better person. That part was easy for me. Still it wasn’t until I was a young adult that I began to understand that a belief in the Church wasn’t quite enough. Sooner or later I needed to learn that not only was the Church true, but it mattered in my life personally.
That was the difficult part. I needed to understand that I had a place in the gospel and how I lived wasn’t just a ripple in the grand scheme of things; it mattered to my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ in a very personal way. In my youthfulness, my faith told me that I was on the right path and would not stray from it. I did the right thing because it was the expected thing. I needed to learn that there was a deeper reason for doing what was right. In the words of the late James E. Faust, who, prior to his death, was a member of the First Presidency of the Church: “True conversion changes lives.” It stretches you beyond your comfort zone to want to be better. I was comfortable just being good.
In those early adult years I began to stray. Because I strayed I recognized the cost and work that is involved in coming back. I began to recognize the power and majesty of the gospel as it could effect me personally.
Still, it was just a whispering.
It wasn’t until I was pregnant with my third child that this principle hit home and I began to understand the gospel was true for every aspect of my life, not just the things others could see. I spent much of that pregnancy in bed with several difficulties. The worst part was the severe pain. Every move cost me physically. I hurt in such ways that it was often difficult to describe in words. Tears were shed daily. After many weeks of this I began to realize that there was someone who understood exactly what I was feeling, and it mattered to Him more than I could ever comprehend.
For me, Its beauty and simplicity could cleanse me from all my human errors if I would let it. More importantly, it could support me in all my human pains and sorrows as well.
That was when I began to realize just how much my testimony, my connection to the gospel really meant to me. That’s the part of my testimony that means the most to me. It’s the realization that I matter, that I am loved and known on a personal level.
It is the sustaining power of the gospel to me. Along with finding the right path, I can make it to the end because I am guided and sustained the entire way. My conversion came with my testimony of the atonement.
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