#Hallelujah - My Easter Testimony

In honor of the #Hallelujah Easter campaign, I wanted to use this Good Friday to share my Easter testimony.

I know that Christ took upon Himself the afflictions and turmoils of mankind, experiencing the pains and weaknesses of every single individual who ever has and ever will walk upon this earth.

I know that Christ was crucified, and that He rose from His tomb on the third day.

I know that the Resurrection is real, and that all of us will rise from our own graves when He comes again.

You may ask how I could possibly know these things. I wasn't there. I haven't personally died and come back to life in a perfect body.

But I do know.

I know it as well as I know that I sit here typing at this keyboard. I know it as well as I know my own name, my own identity. I know it as well as I know of the material existence of this very Earth.

You may not believe my testimony. But I bet that you can believe I believe it.

The question might be, "Why?" It might even be, "How?"

I sought answers. I studied. I prayed. I spent many nights wondering if I could ever believe. I waited for enlightenment and went back to the drawing board when I found none.

Answers came in the form of thoughts and feelings, the former of which coming with an eloquency I can never hope to repeat or pen, the latter of which more powerful than words themselves.

And I know.

And you can, too, if you'd like.

I'm not saying you only have to ask. I'm not saying it won't take time and effort.

But if you don't know the truthfulness of the Resurrection, I challenge you to begin that journey today.

The History of My Testimony: from an LDS Blogger

My parents were converts to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, also known as Mormonism. They raised me in their adopted faith, teaching me everything they understood to be true.

It is custom for youth in the church to be baptized at the age of eight, and my family followed suit. At some point after this, I tired of 'churchy' things. I didn't like wearing 'church clothes.' I didn't like spending large swathes of my weekend learning gospel topics about which I felt pretty knowledgeable. Worse, I didn't know why the church mattered so much to the people around me.

I had been taught by my parents and leaders that, if I wanted to understand Mormonism, I needed to read The Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ and ask God if the book was true.

As it says in the book's introduction, "The Book of Mormon is a volume of holy scripture comparable to the Bible. It is a record of God's dealings with ancient inhabitants of the Americas and contains the fullness of the everlasting gospel ... We invite all men everywhere to read the Book of Mormon, to ponder in their hearts the message it contains, and then to ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ if the book is true ... Those who gain this divine witness from the Holy Spirit will also come to know by the same power that Jesus Christ is the Savior of the world, that Joseph Smith is His revelator and prophet in these last days, and that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is the Lord's kingdom once again established on the earth, preparatory to the Second Coming of the Messiah."

I knew Jesus Christ and prophets and the gospel were important to my parents. I wanted to understand why. So I picked up a copy of The Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ and began to read.

I was young, but I was still an avid reader. Regardless, it took me over a year to finish reading. I didn't understand half of what my eyes passed over, but I kept going. Finally, I reached the portion of the book now affectionately called Moroni's Promise, Moroni 10:3-5, only 29 verses from the sad yet hopeful end.

"And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true ..."

So I did. I prayed. I asked God, in the name of Christ, if the book was true.

It's cliche to say, but I experienced a feeling I never had before. It was like the love of a parent, sibling, friend, grandparent, and stranger all wrapped into one. It was a love without source, and yet from everywhere at once.

In that moment, I knew The Book of Mormon was a true account. The book bore testimony of Jesus Christ, and so I knew He was my redeemer. I also knew that Joseph Smith had to be a prophet, and that I belonged to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

Of course, all this logicality went over my youth-addled head. To my recollection, my reaction to the sacred event involved running off to play with my toys. Regardless, as my knowledge and understanding of the world and the gospel grew, I retroactively realized how important it was to learn of Jesus Christ when I did. Gaining a testimony of the Bible and other works of scripture only served to increase my devotion to Him.

Since that time, I've had a lot of learning to do. I'm made mistakes. I've fallen away from Christ and had to find my way back. But as I try to please my Redeemer, every day, I find happiness. I find purpose. I find strength.

I will never pay back what Christ did for me that day I finished the Book of Mormon. I will never pay back what he did for me in the garden of Gethsemane and on that cross. But I write for Him. I keep this blog for Him. I believe in Matthew 5:16, and I hope that, every so often, my little light will help someone glorify my Father in heaven.

Kneeling: Storm Cloud

Matthew 5:44 - "... Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you ..."

I was furious yesterday.

Not at anything or anyone in particular, just at the world. Well, I guess I was angry at things and people in particular in a general sense, but I wasn't specifically angry at any one conception, I was specifically angry at a lot of things that only compounded to form one giant cloud of non-specific anger.

Ya dig?

Anyway, so I was chilling at mi amigo's house last night, venting about everything that had caused me frustration. Given my rather over-dramatic way of saying things, I was prompting some laughter from the assembled group. Finally, just before I left for home, mi amigo said, with his tongue firmly in cheek, something along the lines of, "Well, I'll be sure to curse anyone who's giving you grief in my prayers tonight!"

This was given the due amount of laughter. Our other amigo said, "Well, I'm going to pray for them. How about that?"

The conversation was light-hearted, but the combination of the statements struck me. Had I prayed for my enemies? Had I really gone before the Lord and asked him to soothe my troubled heart? Or was I just complaining?

So, last night, I made sure to kneel down and pray specifically for those with whom and for what I had struggles.

I can't say my anger went away completely. But it was enough, at that moment, to calm me down. I felt foolish as I lay in bed, realizing I'd forgotten exactly what it was that I needed to do to be like Christ. As I continue my project of digitizing my journals, I see that desire, over and over again.

It was a nice, if somewhat painful, reminder.

There's Always A Reason

1 Nephi 4:6 - "And I was led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which I should do."

My best bro was going on a date tonight, and, as part of the fun, decided to take her to his ward's bonfire after they saw a movie in the theatre. He wanted me to try and double with him, but after that didn't work out, he suggested I just join them for the bonfire.

I wasn't sure exactly why he wanted me to become a third wheel during his date, but because he's my bro, I knew he had noble reasons, though I assumed my primary role was to use my natural charm and goofiness to diffuse any potential tension or awkwardity (awkwardness? awkwardology?) that may have risen between them between the movie and picking me up. Thankfully for them, after they picked me up and drove me up to the canyon, they were still hitting it off fine, so the role I had envisioned for myself proved useless.

So there I was, sitting up in the mountains with a group of people I didn't know talking about things I didn't care about with faces I couldn't really see in the darkness. My first inclination was to conclude that my time would have been far better spent back at the dorms, where an exam and creative projects waited.

No! I thought. I have my smart phone! I pulled up QuickOffice and began to type up a new chapter of my novel. The mood and atmosphere of the campsite aided my description of one of my characters' paganistic religions, making the final product that much more real for me. When my fingers froze to the point of minimal usage, I decided to silently slip away from the group into the darkness, rubbing my digits in my armpits, to give myself some time to think.

The sky was clear, and the stars were out, giving me a clear view of the cosmos stretching above me. As I craned my neck upward, I felt so compelled to offer up a prayer, and so did, speaking with my Father for some time before silently drawing back to the edge of the fire. None had noticed my absence.

As we three piled back into the car, I pointed out that I'd accomplished my primary purpose--being there for my bro--as well as a secondary and tertiary purpose I hadn't been aware of before making the journey. The conclusion I made is that, no matter where we are, no matter where I'm going, the Lord knows where he needs us. When I'm in a situation I'm not super thrilled about, I need to make an effort to try and see the hidden reasons why I'm there. And when I do that, then my life will be that much more full.

Unplugged

Luke 21:36 - "Watch ye therefore, and pray always..."

I had a couple of neat experiences today. I guess I don't really have too much of a 'change' to report, but at least I have several moments to cherish.
I had an opportunity to sit down and really talk with Doctor Marc Davis, my chiropractor here in Vancouver, about what's going on with my aching back. He showed me some videos regarding what causes back pain, and I was blown away. I finally began to understand how the spine actually works, how our nerves are protected, how subluxations occur, how they're repaired, how the body compensates for spinal damage, how everything in the body connects together ...
Sitting there, watching all of this, I couldn't help but notice that everything in my body had to have been designed. The theory that our bodies were formed by chance is just so ridiculous to me. By that logic, I could be walking through a forest and find a wild computer sitting on a tree branch furiously spitting out equations. How could such a thing come about by chance? All you have to do is look at the central nervous system and recognize just how much like a computer we are. An errant firework can not produce a smart phone.

I attended a religious institute class yesterday, and I really enjoyed it! However, after the teacher closed us off with a prayer and the students began to socialize, I immediately felt out of place. I've lost my ability to make small talk without bringing up missionary work or the Gospel in some way, and so after a few failed attempts to strike up a real solid conversation, I just decided to duck out.

On my way home, I kind of got in the zone way out on the highway, and I didn't even notice until my GPS started screaming at me to turn around. Unfazed, I headed back toward my neighborhood through a back entrance. Even though I've only been here a couple of weeks, I was feeling confident enough to distrust my GPS' directions  through the back entrance, and cockily took a different route than what was asked of me.

My five minute trip abruptly lengthened to twenty.

I was still unfazed. I was jamming out to my tunes, I was enjoying the lush countryside, and I was perfectly all right with everything. I'd been sufficiently humbled. Life was good.

But then, I started thinking. What if God allowed me to be stupid so I could be on this road for some other reason?

I turned my music off and listened.

Well, I didn't meet anyone whose car broke down, and I didn't see anyone who was in particular need of aid, and I didn't see any grand natural sight I hadn't already seen, but the silent fifteen minutes was amazing for me. Even though I was driving, I took the Savior's challenge to pray always, and I just started telling God all about my day, from beginning to end. I'm sure some of the prayer-sticklers out there would tell me I should have been kneeling with my eyes closed, but that was one of the most relaxing and invigorating prayers I've ever uttered, even I as was driving down the road with my eyes wide open and my feet firmly on the pedals. It made the relationship I have with God more personal. It reminded me what a blessing it is to be able to talk with God whenever we want. Some of my fears and worries were swept away. And, as I pulled into my driveway, I felt peace.

Maybe that's why I went down so many wrong roads.