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“I was born and raised in a Catholic household. I loved the structure and the people in my church. I even wanted to become a priest. But ultimately decided it wasn’t the path I wanted because I wanted to be able to have kids of my own some day.
My first interaction with missionaries from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints was when I was 14. They talked about what Jesus Christ meant to them. I enjoyed our discussion, but upon their return my father denied them the opportunity to come back. Soon after, my parents divorced. It was so hard on me, and I took my anger out on God.
A few years later, my brother joined the LDS church. I didn’t attend church anymore. I went to his church to support him but I didn’t like anything of a faith. It all felt so scripted.
Time passed, and missionaries came with my brother to visit with my mom and I. They took time to talk to me more about the church. It was working, but I was so spiteful of my Dad that I wanted to use baptism into the church to hurt him. I recognized that this was not wise, and decided not to become baptized. My Mom, however, did make the decision to be baptized.
As the years went on, I would talk to Missionaries. Offering a place to come over to eat. When they would ask about being baptized, I couldn’t. I was living a life that I knew God wouldn’t approve of, and I was embarrassed.
I then found out I was going to be a dad and my perspective changed. I tried to do more of what was right. 3 kids later, and their mom decided to leave me. Her and her boyfriend prevented me from seeing my kids, and I was in a dark place.
One night, I gave up.
I decided I was going to take my life, and I planned out exactly how I was going to do it and when.
And then the day came.
I worked that day and looked at the world for the last time. When I got home, I collapsed to the ground in tears. I felt the void of missing my kids. My life was in chaos, and my faith was not existent. I prayed to Heavenly Father in the way that I had learned from the LDS church. At that moment, I felt a hand on my back. This ripple effect went across my body. It was this energizing feeling. I got up and finished my paperwork needed for court.
I won custody of my kids.
Years passed and I would call my Mom every Sunday after she was done with Church. She would tell me what she learned during sacrament, relief society, and Sunday school. I enjoyed our Sunday talks. It become our routine. She would ask me to attend church but I felt conflicted. So she told me to pray.
I poured out my heart to my Heavenly Father, and voiced my concerns. I wanted to join the church, but I was worried that without anyone to hold me accountable, I would stray.
A few weeks later I met an amazing woman. We started working out together and one day we started talking about faith. She said that she was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. We started talking about the church and my exposure to it. She helped me reach out to my ward’s bishop and he dispatched the missionaries. She and I would talk about the faith often. She gave me a Book of Mormon with a special message of friendship and faith. When my kids and I decided to get baptized, she attend the baptism. She kept me accountable and now, she has become my wife, and we have been sealed in the temple.”