My Testimony: From A Religion To A Relationship, Part 2

The next two weeks, were crucial for me. I poured myself into the Book of Mormon; the first time I had read it. I think my mom once kindly recieved one and then promptly through it in the trash. Anyway, it reads like much of the Old Testament. It tells the story of a "lost tribe" of Israel as it is miraculously transported to the New World centuries before Jesus. And the Messiah after His resurrection visits them with the message of the Gospel. It is a fantastic story with heroes and villains and themes that appear biblical.

I read with fascination and an open mind. Upon finishing it I had some thoughts. If all this were true, then there would have to be at least some evidence of a Tribe of Israelites running around with the Native Americans. I had some serious doubts about this.

Next I proceeded to read the Gospels. I had not done this before either, but was much more familiar with the Bible. I was most intrigued by the spoken words of Jesus; His Parables, the accounts of His dealings with sinners of all stripes, and the accounts of His last hours and the Crucifixion.

But most of all, whenever He spoke, it just went straight into my heart. It spoke to my very soul.

I realized then and there that I would no longer have just religion, I wanted a relationship with this Jesus.

The question was, which belief-system: the Latter Day Saints (Mormon), or Evangelical Protestant (Christian)? I think I deep-down really knew the answer. So I (for the first time) felt compelled to get down on my knees and pray to the Lord God which way was the true way? Mormon or Christian?

I asked the question in prayer and felt distinctly in my heart and mind (not audibly) that Mormonism was NOT the TRUE way. It was not the true church of Jesus Christ. I asked what was true and was assured that the Christian Church was true I was to follow Him there.

It was then and there that I committed myself to the Lord Jesus Christ and to His work, His kingdom. I became born-again into the church, the family of God that day in August 1994.

My Testimony: From A Religion To A Relationship, Part 1

I was living in Charlotte,NC, the summer of 1994, newly on my own and working nights at a hotel, sleeping during the day. I new deep down I was missing something in life, but didn't know what.

One day, some Mormon missionaries came by my house and knocked on my door. You know, the clean-cut young males often seen on bicycles wearing black pants and ties, and a white shirt. They go door-to-door spreading the message of the Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints Mormon Church.

So, I allow them in, let them do their thing. I guess I had nothing better to do. I must admit they asked some interesting questions, and I answered the best I could.

See, I had gone to Vacation Bible School as a child. I knew John 3:16 and other verses by memory. I had a fair understanding of Jesus and His teachings. They proceeded to explain a different gospel than I was familiar with. And someone who did not have Bible knowledge, nor the indwelling Holy Spirit, would be at a loss to counter their claims. I admitted to them that I did not know what was true or what was a fable. They left me with an assignment: I was to read both the Book of Mormon and the Four Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John), then pray and ask God which way to go.

My Testimony: Dad Issues, Part 2

I go to Denver by train. I arrive on a freezing December morning. A friend of my dad's met me and we went straightaway to his hospital bed. He is in a semi-coma, and had been in one for weeks. He couldn't talk, do or say anything. But I was told he could hear me. I knew he was dying, and I say something. He opens his eyes and grunts an acknowledgement of me.

That was all it took. The floodgates open: I cry and tell him I forgive him and that I love him. I let it all out and speak from a heavy heart. I then tell him go on... to heaven. I tell him he can stop holding on, waiting for me, because I am here now. I don't know why I said all this, I just did. It was all very quick. The next morning we got a call from the hospital that he died.

We to the hospital to see his body and make the final preparations. That was
quite difficult, but I also kept having feelings of peace that my dad was in a better
place. This kept me going. Our friend was very grief-stricken, but he had known
about my dad's situation for months. It seemed that I was able to console him and
drew from some well of faith I didn't know I had.

That morning, while viewing the body, I was given a few moments alone. I did not know what to say. I just looked up at the ceiling, thinking that that was where
my father's spirit had gone. The main thing was that for the first time I had a

curiosity about what happens to someone when when they die. I had read about
near-death experiences and new some of what the Bible had to say... but I was pretty cynical about alot of things until this point in my life.

For years I has not really understood the need for a father in my life. I thought I could get by without him, just like my mother and siblings appeared to. And now with my father gone, I suddenly realized such an important part was missing.

So, as I was sitting in the hospital room, then and there I made a decision to really seek out what happens after death: to understand this process. At the same time, such feelings of peace and calmness were all over me. It was strange, these feelings. I later learned that they were the presence of God. The Holy Spirit was comforting me, drawing me to Him, the Heavenly Father, that I really needed. I did not know God personally yet, but knew something was happening.

Within the month, I became close friends with this Christian girl who witnessed to me and encouraged me: helped me move on. She showed such great faith in Jesus Christ even though she had difficult trials in her life. I wanted this for myself, and came to know that this was for real.

That summer, after reading the Four Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John) in the Bible, I got down on my knees and asked Christ to come into my heart and life, forgive my sins, and make me into His child. No magic, no bells or thunder were heard from heaven, but I knew that God did something that day in August.

It took a tragedy the previous December for me to realize my need for God. My loss of my earthly father made me see my need for our Eternal Father. I will always be thankful to God above for showing me this, even through a tragedy. And I wish to share with everyone how God used this experience to change me forever. Amen!

My Testimony: Dad Issues, Part 1

I was thinking you'd like to learn a little about me. So let me share some about myself.

I was born in Richmond, Virginia, the second of four kids. I was the classic "middle child"; always in the middle, not really getting the attention I thought I should get... Anyway, I have gotten over it! Haha!

During my teenage years I became angry and rebelled in my own way (of course), although I stayed largely out of trouble. I barely passed with a D- average my senior year of high school, though. My teachers always said I had much more
ability and potential. I think I just didn't care.

Shortly after graduation, I was working on some dead-end job, sleeping in, doing my own thing when my dad came down with this sudden cancer. We were
not that close. My parents had separated years before and he kind of slipped out
of our lives. In fact, he had moved over a thousand miles away.

I had not seen him in a couple of years and did not really miss him. At the time
I did not really respect him. Some of his decisions and lifestyle were not really
meshing with who I was.

My dad and I did not really get along. Years before, I stopped going to visit him
on weekends when he lived nearby. I got into band at school and things like that. He came to a couple of school events, but didn't show as much interest in my life as I would have wanted. It was all the same, because he probably would have seen that I was a loner. I did not
make many friends, and the few I had I wasn't very close to. I guess that deep-down I was glad he did not get more involved. He would
have seen through my facade and teenager angst. Why was I like this? Well I was... Angry. I did not know why at the time.

So, my father gets this cancer, which was strange enough. He was young, about 40-something, and a health-food nut. He was very overweight, though.

He gets flu-like symptoms and goes to the doctor after it doesn't go away for a month. The doctor runs some tests and there you go. He
has a strange abdominal cancer with tumors all over the place. No cure is possible. No way to treat it. He is given a month to live, just like that. He never calls to tell us.

I get a phone call from his doctor one day. He says that dad has slipped into a semi-coma. He and a family friend (who is there) tell me and the family what is going on. The doctor says he is not going to make it, we should come see him.

So I go down to see him (I was his oldest, my mother had a son from a previous relationship) by taking a train to Denver, Colorado... all the way from Virginia. It was decided that I would be there if he died and any funeral arrangements. I did not want this responsibility, and
did not want to go, but I realized this was the least I could do for him. It forced me to deal with some things that I did not want to deal with.