There is a time in your life when the light goes on.  It is in that moment when all your trials, experiences and lingering questions come together and then the answer appears.

I am a convert to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints also commonly called the Mormon Church.  I was 18 years old and all of my childhood and youth could not have been further from Gospel principles.  I was the youngest of four kids born to an alcoholic father and an extremely abusive mother, who divorced when I was 9.

I just figured that everyone’s home life was the same as mine, tumultuous, until I started school.  I learned very quickly that it was not the same at all.  When I was about 6 years old I remember praying to God about wanting to find people that were like me, that love kids and family was first, who knew that He existed and loved me unconditionally, that nothing is really a coincidence.

When I was 16 years old, I was kicked out of the house because I no longer fit into what my mom wanted in her life.  It was tough living on the streets of a major city and continueing in school but  I did it. After graduating high school I moved to another city to “start over”.  I knew that I was searching for the meaning of my life but didn’t know where to find it or if it even existed.

An Introduction to Mormon Missionaries

I was introduced to the Mormon missionaries within 6 months. The moment that Elder Hause opened his mouth to teach me, the light inside me, the spirit inside me knew I had finally found my home.  Since the Gospel has been in my life now for many years, I have never had more peace, pure joy and unconditional love.  The Saviour took me gently by the hand and reached into my battered heart and I felt a calm, a peace and an assurance that I would never be alone again.

The Saviour knew me, little old me, the wallflower in the room, whose mother said was the one not wanted, the girl with lower than low self-esteem. And I knew in my heart that He knew me, better than I knew myself.

I realized that was what the missionaries had taught me, the “burning in my chest”.   I knew that I could never, would never be able to deny it. I was as sure as the sun rises every morning and then sets every evening.   I am a Child of God. My testimony was embedded into my heart.  I knew at that split second that I wanted, needed and with the deepest desires of my heart to be baptized into the LDS church, the fully restored church that Jesus taught. When I had only known darkness and sadness, His light was both a comfort and a blessing to me.  It was 13 short days after that first meeting with the missionaries that I was baptized as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Kay Cahoon is a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of  Latter-day Saints (Mormon), wife, mother of six, grandma of many, traveler and genealogist.

Additional Resources:

Mormons Know God Lives

Mormons and Jesus Christ

Mormons and the Bible

The Meaning of Life

Meet Real Mormons

My childhood was not pretty. I was raised in several “homes” and foster homes. Both my parents were alcoholics…in fact, they met at an AA meeting! Both of them had several failed marriages and relationships which resulted in various children. I have siblings, step-siblings and half-siblings, some of whom I’ve never met, even to this day. Others I was raised with on and off at different times and various circumstances. To say the least…it was a confusing, chaotic, and unstable childhood. Through all the chaos and confusion, there was one consistent thing in my life- that was the AV 1611 King James version of the Holy Bible.

My father, (believe it or not) was a southern Baptist preacher! He would preach about the love of Christ and the peace which passeth all understanding, but my father never knew peace, nor did he have a clue about the meaning of the word “love.” (I struggle with the meaning of it myself) As my siblings all turned to drugs, alcohol, sex or insanity as an escape from the torment of our lives, I turned to the Bible. I started memorizing it at an early age. By the time I was 16 years old, I was carrying my Bible with me to school every day and quoting whole chapters. When I was 26 years old, I quoted the first 14 chapters of Matthew on a TV show called,”The Parade Of Miracles”. It was broadcast from a church called The People’s Baptist Church in Corpus Christi, Texas.

I didn’t know Christ or His love, but I wanted to know him. I longed to know him. As I poured over my scriptures, I found reference to Christ in every chapter I could from both the Old and the New Testaments. I wrote poems, read books (many books),about Christ, New Testament times and Old Testament times. As I matured into adulthood, I started “church hopping”, checking out many different churches and religions, each one claiming to have the only truth. Each one claimed that they were the the true church, and with each new church, I came away feeling empty. Finally, after my marriage failed and I started raising my two children alone, I decided to give up on church altogether. Although I could quote scripture better than most preachers I knew, I still lacked an understanding of who Christ was. I knew about him, but I didn’t know him. My problem was 18 inches long. There are 18 inches between your head and your heart. I had Christ’s words in my head, but they had not reached my heart. If I missed Heaven…it was going to be by 18 inches!

Then, one night I happened to see a commercial for a free Book of Mormon, another Testament of Jesus Christ. Wow! It had never occurred to me that the Book of Mormon was a “Testament of Jesus Christ.” I had the Old Testament and the New Testament, what was this? A third Testament? I had never heard of such a thing! Maybe that was the missing piece! I grabbed my phone and dialed the number! When the person on the other end asked if I would like someone to visit me, as well as receive my free copy of the Book of Mormon, I said,” yes!” I had my first visit in February 2004. God bless those missionaries! I sure gave them a run for their money! I knew we were in the “last days”, and the the Bible says,”Yea, let God be true, but every man a liar” (Romans 3:4). I did not trust them; I knew many false prophets would arise in the last days, but I gave them my word that I would not make any decisions until I had read the Book of Mormon.

A funny thing happened as I started reading the Book of Mormon-I recognized my beloved Bible on every page! It didn’t start in First Nephi,either…it started with the introduction to the Book of Mormon and then the testimonies of the witnesses. I recognized God’s numbers, His “set” way of organization; I started pulling out God’s numbers-3,8,12-from the very first pages and I knew that this book was lining up with my Bible. As I read on, I decided that the Book of Mormon was either written by God or by Satan, but it could not have been written by any man! The wisdom was too deep. It lined up too well with the Bible, on so many levels. I knew that it was just not possible for man to have written this book. As I realized this, at first, I feared in my heart that the Book of Mormon was a counterfeit. Was this the strong delusion sent by Satan in the last days that my Bible had warned me about? Were these missionaries the false prophets that I knew would arise in the last days? I was sure in my heart that the Book of Mormon was a supernatural book, but to which end? I also knew that “ol’ smutty face” was a master of imitation and forgery. If anybody could make a “copy” of the Bible, yet twist it, he could! But the missionaries kept telling me to pray about it, and ask God if it was the truth. Satan wouldn’t advise me to ask God about anything! The Bible says in Isaiah 55:11 that God’s word will not return void and it didn’t. I had not memorized all that scripture for naught.

There was only one conclusion I could make about the Book of Mormon. My Bible came back to me and testified to me as I read each page of the Book of Mormon. The Holy Spirit was there too, and so were the missionaries…patiently putting up with my endless questions. I swam through a sea of confusion, but God knew my heart and he guided me back to him. Praise God!!! I’ve finally found the true church of Jesus Christ, and I can testify from my very soul that the Book of Mormon is the truth. It changed my life and it is the final piece to the puzzle of my life. The pieces have come together and I finally have the whole truth. I finally know Christ…REALLY know him, and I have felt his love for REAL this time. I’m home…at last!!!

I was inspired to write this poem during our Stake Conference in November of 2004. I had been reading LDS poetry from a book that I had borrowed from the church library and I had this feeling of frustration that all the LDS poetry that I had read so far kept painting this “rosy” picture of happy childhoods and “goodly” parents and how the heroin’s had to find their own testimonies. I thought to myself, why doesn’t anybody write about not being born into this church, yet finding their testimony? I was thinking these thoughts while listening to Conference when the Lord whispered into my heart…”Why don’t YOU write that poem?” I wrote it that night after Conference.

The Mortal Test

A spirit I was, a mortal to be…
The father came and spoke to me.
You’ve kept, my child, your first estate
and now it’s time to delegate…
A mother to give you mortal birth
a body and a place on Earth.
I know you’d like your mother, “kind”
but I have something else in mind.

You see, my child, it’s easy to be
in a holy family that pleases me.
What’s not so easy and takes more grit
is to be placed with parents that are unfit.
A childhood filled with fear and unrest,
you must endure and pass the test.
As you struggle through confusion and pain
Your efforts to find me again will not be in vain.

I love you and I’ll guide you back
if you will withstand Satan’s attack.
Your progression greatly will be multiplied
and I’ll be there waiting on the other side…
with rewards beyond you wildest dream
because you took the path extreme.
The Earth will be your proving ground
but Heaven is where you will be crowned.
You will receive rewards so sweet,
just toss them all at Jesus’ feet.

You will then be allowed to look upon my face
and once again receive your heavenly mother’s embrace.
I know you can do this, I have no doubt
because you’re a spirit Divine and devout.
I’ve planned this life and task to do
because I have great confidence in you.

(1 Corinthians 10:13)
I know God won’t give me anything that I can’t handle…
I just wish He didn’t trust me so much!!!!!

My Faith

The story, to be told correctly, needs some family background. My father was born in Independence, Missouri and was baptized a member of the church at eight years old but was not active as an adult. My father joined the USAF and was stationed at Burtonwood, England during the Korea War. My mother was born in Macclesfield, Cheshire, England, and had three sons by my father before they were divorced. At age four I was raised in England with my mother and new stepfather. I knew nothing about my LDS heritage as I grew up and never came into contact with any members of the church.

My mother was Catholic and my stepfather never mentioned religion but was a hard worker and was a good influence. If I asked him to do something that he thought I could do for myself he would say, “Use your own initiative”. We never went to church as a family but when I was very young I recall my mother telling me that there was “God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost”. She said I can pray to God the Father and ask for what I needed. I could understand asking for what I wanted, a young child knows how to do that. She then said that you have to have faith. I didn’t understand that, what’s faith? Fast forward to age twelve and I am having a difficult time at school such that I felt I could not talk to anybody. I lay quietly in bed, tears in my eyes, no-one to turn to. I remembered my mother’s words from years ago and so I prayed as best I could to “God the Father”. In my mind’s eye I pictured Him as a grandfather, a real person. I started the prayer something like this: “God, I don’t know if you exist but please help me…”. I don’t think that was very good faith but I did have my prayer answered.

I was attending a Catholic school at the time though I wasn’t a member of any church. When I was taught about the Trinity I had difficulty with the concept, it did not seem to align with my experience of praying to Father.

Macclesfield Chapel undergoing renovation in 1984

At age twenty I wanted to meet my father as I had not seen him since I was four. I didn’t know where in America he was living. I was visiting my home town of Macclesfield, where I noticed a church with a strange name—“The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints”. It wasn’t an English church that I knew of so I thought perhaps it was American. I went in and talked to a woman who was cleaning the floor. I told her I was looking for my American father and she took my name and address and told me that someone would contact me. Soon after, I received a letter from the Bishop of the Macclesfield Ward telling me that perhaps I should write to the Genealogical Society in Salt Lake City. My mother remembered that my grandmother lived in Utah and that she went by the name of Martha Harrison, after her second husband. I wrote the letter, mentioning my father’s mother’s name.

My grandmother was active LDS, my grandfather RLDS. Grandmother worked for the church at Zion’s Printing in Independence, Missouri. When Zion’s moved to Utah in 1946, she came with her work. When my letter reached the office girl at the Genealogical Society, the girl knew my grandmother and called her. My grandmother wrote to me saying that my father was in England on a 14 week TDY with the Air Force. Richard Sr. wrote to me, and I immediately traveled south to meet him, unannounced. He had married twice more and his third wife, my stepmother, greeted me at the door. I talked with my father and he explained how he had kept out of my “new” family so as to not disrupt it but now things were different. We saw each other a lot until he returned to the United States.

Newcastle-under-Lyme Stake Center where I was baptized

I corresponded with my father and my grandmother. After some months, I asked my grandmother about the church I went into in Macclesfield. She responded by mailing to me two pamphlets: “Which Church is Right?” by Mark E. Peterson and “Joseph Smith‘s Testimony”. I did not attend any church but thought there was something to the Bible or else why do so many people have an interest in it? However, I did remember in my childhood when all was despair I had prayed to God the Father and my prayers were answered. I also owned a Bible I had purchased and read portions of it. I especially liked the book of Proverbs and enjoyed many of the wise sayings. I was curious about the Ten Commandments and found them in Exodus and read them several times.

These two pamphlets were my first exposure to the Church. I was not interested in them but I felt obligated to at least glance through the pages because my grandmother had taken the time to send them to me. While lying in bed in January 1974, I read through them very quickly to fulfill my obligation. I put them down and decided to sleep. However, I could not sleep and picked up “Which Church is Right?” and read it cover to cover. I also read “Joseph Smith’s Testimony” in its entirety.

“Which Church Is Right?“ quoted Bible verses and was methodical and logical in its presentation. It was the first time that I’d thought of a church that way, though I didn’t have any real feeling about it. The prophet’s testimony was different. A paragraph that stood out was:

It caused me serious reflection then, and often has since, how very strange it was that an obscure boy, of a little over fourteen years of age, and one, too, who was doomed to the necessity of obtaining a scanty maintenance by his daily labor, should be thought a character of sufficient importance to attract the attention of the great ones of the most popular sects of the day, and in a manner to create in them a spirit of the most bitter persecution and reviling. But strange or not, so it was, and it was often the cause of great sorrow to myself. (Joseph Smith—History 23)

I thought it strange too, and identified with Joseph.

Another paragraph:

During the space of time which intervened between the time I had the vision and the year eighteen hundred and twenty-three—having been forbidden to join any of the religious sects of the day, and being of very tender years, and persecuted by those who ought to have been my friends and to have treated me kindly, and if they supposed me to be deluded to have endeavored in a proper and affectionate manner to have reclaimed me—I was left to all kinds of temptations; and, mingling with all kinds of society, I frequently fell into many foolish errors, and displayed the weakness of youth, and the foibles of human nature; which, I am sorry to say, led me into divers temptations, offensive in the sight of God. In making this confession, no one need suppose me guilty of any great or malignant sins. A disposition to commit such was never in my nature. But I was guilty of levity, and sometimes associated with jovial company, etc., not consistent with that character which ought to be maintained by one who was called of God as I had been. But this will not seem very strange to any one who recollects my youth, and is acquainted with my native cheery temperament. (Joseph Smith—History 28)

I was impressed that Joseph would admit to “foolish errors”. To me, someone telling a lie would not say this so openly.

I now know that being impressed by these two paragraphs was the Spirit acting upon me. After over thirty years the deep convincing that I felt is still with me.

Elder Vance Burton (left) and Elder David R. Wilson (right) at my baptism

I wrote to the Bishop of the Macclesfield Ward and asked him about the Church and that I wanted to know more. He replied to my letter, inviting me to travel to Macclesfield and meet with the missionaries. I did so, and recall one memory from our first meeting. I was being taught the first discussion and my mind wandered. When I was a child my mother used to say in a kindly way that “I was off wool gathering” when I didn’t pay attention. The missionaries asked me a question about what was being taught and from then on I was attentive. After the first discussion the missionaries told me that there were missionaries in Crewe and that I would be taught by them.

I was shown the Book of Mormon and started to read it, finished the rest of the discussions, was introduced to the Crewe Branch, and was baptized by Reginald Marshall Amos, a member of the Crewe Branch, at Newcastle-under-Lyme February 1974 a few days before age twenty-two. I didn’t finish reading the Book of Mormon before baptism. I didn’t need to. A witness of the truth of the prophet’s story meant that all else flowed easily. The Prophet saw Jesus Christ and the Father, therefore there is a God (Heavenly Father) and the Son. Joseph translated the Book of Mormon; therefore it is the word of God. Joseph organized a church; therefore it is the church I should be a member of.

Soon after baptism I fell ill and could not attend and then fell into inactivity. I was sickly for two years, being unemployed the whole time. I prayed that God would help me and if He did I would have the strength to return to Church. I received the help and I honored my commitment. To this day, even when I am in the midst of the most difficult struggles I attend my meetings so that I will never again fall away from being with the saints.

Crewe Chapel under construction in 1984

When I returned to church I now had to be taught about and learn the gospel. I had to be taught the doctrines that are the foundation on which to build faith and understanding. I had decided to align with truth. Truth wasn’t coming to make itself fit and conform to my view of the universe. I had to move to truth and change me. It is not an easy process and that process continues today.

Some things were easy though. The admonition to store food and water I agreed readily with. I thought it just common sense to have some reserves, especially as a youth sometimes money was tight and I felt the insecurity of my family living from paycheck to paycheck. Having someone in authority too was just plain common sense. Though I wouldn’t always obey priesthood authority, I would still acknowledge it. I would shape up eventually, usually “using my own initiative”.

When I was seventeen I had seen the suffering in Biafra on the news and felt that I wanted to do something to help. I didn’t know what to do. I recall resolving that some day I would do something. When I returned to church the realization came upon me that there was something I could do that was beyond anything that I had ever hoped I could do. I could be part of building a kingdom—the Kingdom. I set to work with all the zealousness of a convert—at times over zealous—in my pursuit of making the world a better place. A better place built upon the correct principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ as taught by the Prophet Joseph Smith and the Prophet today. A better place because of mothers that teach that there is a Father that answers prayers, even though in my case I only had a particle of faith. A better place because a grandmother knew when and what to send to a grandson she had yet to meet.

No-one need ever be alone, that is my faith.