Carlomino and the Song of Redeeming Love
by Karen R. Merkley

Lacking Some Key to the Universe: Searching for Truth
I still remember standing at the top of the stairs as a child wondering who I was and why I was on the earth. I hungered for that knowledge like no other, and I felt spiritually starved. I attended Catholic Church but asked what to them were unanswerable questions. I posed a few like these: “Well, who lived in heaven and took part in that war besides Jesus? (If there was a war in heaven, as taught, then there had to have been more than two people there, I reasoned.); Why do I have to confess the same sins twice?” and “How can God and Jesus be the same person?” I lived as if on a daily spiritual fare of milk and toast, not knowing there was a buffet table divinely set and beckoning me.

Questions about the purpose of life sprung up as consistently as crocuses do in spring, any time I was willing to allow them to pop through the soil of my soul. At one particular point in my life, I began to despair that I would never know my purpose or the answers to the questions of my heart. Without those answers, the desire to live waned. The world looked cold and senseless. How could I function from day to day without knowing ‘why’ I was functioning? I couldn’t tick if I didn’t know why I was ticking.

Lacking some key to the universe, I sat despondently on the edge of my studio bed, staring at a bottle of sleeping pills. I thought about my circumstances. I had little impetus for moving forward from day to day. I was tired of fumbling for house keys in the cold, of working for work’s sake, of studying theories spilled over in classes without a rod to evaluate them. So I planned to take my life. Just before popping the pills, though, my efforts were aborted– by a gentle but profound strain of impressions from a loving Father through what I now recognize as His Spirit. I was told, through those welcome whisperings, that “every moment of love and every moment of discovery in my life had not been wasted” and that I “must have the courage to live on.” I was also told, in fact spiritually guaranteed, that I would find the purpose of life. I accepted with confidence those impressions though I didn’t quite comprehend their appearance on the screen of my soul.

Receiving a Spiritual Witness
I spent the next months contemplating my life. On one remarkable occasion, as I was jogging around the neighborhood under the exquisite light of a full moon, I received what I can only describe as an injection of truth–a stunning, indelible witness that God lived. I recall sitting down on the curb, sobbing, tears of joy. I was changed instantly. I felt loved and I felt an overwhelming inclination to love like never before. I knew there was a God which thing I hadn’t known for myself just moments before. I knew, at last, I had a purpose. This was so delicious to taste. I longed to know more about God , his plan for me and my duty and responsibility towards Him and others.

So Which Church is True?
I borrowed a Bible from a Catholic Church, lay out in the field behind their rectory, and read through the New Testament for the first time. I marveled that this book had been preserved for me– and anyone else looking for truth. I particularly recall pondering the word, ‘saved” and the atonement of Christ. I was filled to know that the Lord, who had just literally saved my life physically, had also died to save me spiritually. I knew that I had an advocate in whom I could completely trust.

I then began to identify and list in my trusty silver notebook, points of doctrine Christ had espoused and the characteristics of his Church. I learned much from that first scriptural immersion. But three ideas particularly prepared me for the fullness of the gospel. First, I knew that we could become perfect even as God is, for the Savior Himself taught the doctrine of perfection to his apostles as recorded in Matthew 12:48. Second, I anticipated more revelation than the Bible for the Lord told His apostles (in Mark) that there was more to be revealed that they were not ready to bear. Third, I embraced the truth that there was only one, true way to salvation as the scriptures indicated: “one faith, one baptism.” In fact, I envisioned a time when all quarrels among churches would end, and all denominations would be subsumed under the one true church. I decided to begin a search for the true Church, thinking, again, that it was, likely, not on the earth. After visits to dozens of churches–from Swedenborgian to Methodist–and reading through many books and pamphlets, comparing their teachings with those I learned in the scriptures, I always came up empty. No one, it seemed, scored on every point. There was always some disappointing deviation from what I learned from the scriptures to anticipate in Christ’s Church.

Finding Truth in the Strangest of Places
On another investigative visit to the Baptist Church, I found myself, again, disappointed. This time, I was on the brink of abandoning my quest altogether. It was too painful to think that so many who professed the Christ did not know the full truth about Him or about the ways He indicated we should administer his ordinances. Just then, on my way out of the building, I discovered an “anti-Mormon” brochure on a rack in the vestibule. As I was in the habit of collecting whatever I could grasp on various religions, I clasped it eagerly and tucked it away to read at home. When I arrived at the Baptist minister’s home, where I was a guest, I began to devour this pamphlet. I read eagerly some of the claims of the Church, namely, that we could become more and more perfect as the Savior; that there was additional revelation than the Bible (something called a Book of Mormon and Doctrine and Covenants); that there was a code of health (which I ‘d anticipated through the Spirit); and more. The critical comments seemed superfluous, and I recognized those “Mormon” claims as true from my own reading of the New Testament.

I was electrified and knew I had found something more than a kernel of truth. I searched for a Book of Mormon and found one in a small library in Huntingdon Valley, Pennsylvania and took it home with a half gallon of ice cream. I dipped into both that night and hardly slept. I knew it was true. Before I found the book, I located in a different library a file of pamphlets on the purpose of life left by a missionary whom I do not know but will one day kiss. In there, I found the purpose of life clearly explained. It thrilled me and I barely contained my emotion. It was all I could do to refrain from squeezing the whispering librarians stacking the shelves .I recognized it immediately as the truth.

I eventually called the Church and entered the waters of baptism a short time later. And I must say that I feel like I’ve been eating lobster tails in drawn butter since. But this is all to provide a context for me to share one particular morsel of that feast with you here, one that pertains to the joyful delicious experience of partaking in family history and temple blessings.

Family History: A Pioneer Trek
With a maiden name of “Trifiletti” (rhymes with “spaghetti” in case you’re tripping over it!), you can probably guess my Italian-American roots. After joining the Church and serving my mission to Germany, I moved to Salt Lake City. I hoped that I would be able to find out more about my Italian ancestors. I guess you could say, “I tried on my pair of pioneer shoes.” I started out with a blank pedigree but willing and anxious feet. Yet, after hours of original research and sending dozens of letters to and from many organizations in search of family clues, and after many visits to the Salt Lake Family History Library waiting for needed films to arrive from Italy, I was not much further along in my search. I looked at my empty pedigree and longed to have it filled in–to know my family, to help them have the saving ordinances of the gospel, which I had found in 1980. Yet, my own efforts proved insufficient to complete my family’s work. I had packed up but gotten nowhere, it seemed. I guess it was a spiritual Winter-Quarters experience.

A Breakthrough
After additional fasting and prayer, I knew it was time for a breakthrough. That assurance came one Sunday afternoon when, besieged by a trail of family history papers sprawled over the kitchen table, I felt overawed and directionless. Leaving the papers as they were, I retired to the living room and sat down on the couch. I wept. Seeking some comfort, I opened what seemed like a heavy volume of scripture in my hands to the following verse in 1 Nephi 17:

And I will also be your light in the wilderness; and I will prepare the way before you, if it so be that ye shall keep my commandments; wherefore, inasmuch as ye shall keep my commandments, ye shall be led towards the promised land; and ye shall know that it is by me that ye are led. (13).

This verse penetrated me. I thought to myself, “If ever I were in a wilderness, it certainly was now.” I was lost in a circuitous paperwork trail and what seemed insurmountable obstacles in a barren land of information. Through and in that wilderness, I felt the Savior’s promise–that He would be my light out. Through His words, I knew that He would guide me through the trail of my confusing notes to the “promised land”–to the temple, the place where my ancestors would receive their gospel ordinances and promised blessings and where I, too, would be filled with joy for them. Those pioneer shoes had their vision and hope restored of reaching the promised land and making it across the wilderness.

The Lord, of course, kept His word. I returned to the kitchen and began to review my files and notes. It was as if certain pieces of information were highlighted, and I knew what steps I needed to take to secure further information about my relatives. I wrote continuously for about twenty minutes until I had a full list of things to do, in order, to pursue the work. It was clear. I knew the direction was divine. From that point on, at every step of the way, the Spirit has told me either what to do or what to ask next in my spiritual journey to find my family. I have never been in a quandary since regarding the sequence of steps to take to continue this family history work. At last, I could breathe, “All is well. All is well.”

Finding Filippo and Concetta: Two Miracles
I was then elated to find the Italian microfilms I’d been waiting for. I remember finding my grandfather Filippo first. It was on his birthday when I first felt so compelled to make this pioneer journey back in time to piece together my family history. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I ran my hand over and over the film, feeling close to him. In fact, whenever I looked at films from then on, I felt as if I were walking through the streets of Italy or through a stake directory in another part of the world. I felt a warmth and closeness with these people as if I’d known them.

I remember the day I was looking for his wife, my grandmother, Maria Concetta Pastore. The films were worn and worm-eaten. The writing looked like invisible ink in many places–only the imprints were visible on some pages. I scrolled forward to the estimated year of her birth. The writing was illegible. I was discouraged–as if my handcart had broken. I had an impression. It was to return to the beginning of the film and to look for other relatives first.

I spent four afternoons doing this. On the last day, in the middle of a record, another impression came. “Look for your grandmother now.” I scrolled forward to the same bleak and musty pages I’d been to four days prior. My eyes were led to the bottom left hand corner of the page where I saw ever faintly engraved, ” Maria Concetta Pastore.” Had I not spent hours reading the front pages of that roll of film, I never would have had the capacity to discern the writing on the page on which my grandmother was listed. I felt her presence as I served as proxy for her in the temple and received a sure witness that she accepted the gospel of Jesus Christ and her ordinance work. Now I seemed to reach the valley of delight. My shoes were worn, but well worn. I was glad for every small pioneer step I had been privileged to take.

Wearing these shoes—doing this work–has altered the quality of my life forever. The richest fullest blessings attend family history and temple work–a joy that overrides the frustrations and vicissitudes of life. I still get frustrated occasionally when my lawnmower runs out of gas five minutes into the lawn, or when another pair of little shoes turns up missing, or when my body fat percentage isn’t precisely where I’d like it, but these minor frustrations pale in comparison to the joy I feel in my life. I find that the Lord orders my days better than I ever can when I spend prime time doing the prime work of the kingdom. My knowledge of Him and His plan has increased. And I know my confidence in Him continues to wax strong as I stay involved in it.

Carlomino Over My Shoulder
On another special occasion, I was looking at some additional films for the Bello line of our family who are from a small town outside Naples, called Pietraroia, Italy. I found a great-great grandfather but once again could not read his name. I prayed and waited for my eyes to be opened to it. I told Heavenly Father that I knew He knew the name of this person and that this person knew his own name and that I had faith that either one of them could reveal it to me. I sincerely asked that it might be revealed so this work could be done and so I could carry on with the line. Still I could not make it out. But after receiving a feeling of peace, I left the library, went home, attended to my family and retired for the night. The next morning, I was awakened from my sleep by a voice (though not audible) speaking the word, “Carlomino.” I woke up partially and wondered what it was that I heard–it sounded familiar to me. And then I heard the name again: “Carlomino.” Of all of the thousands of Italian names I had by then read, I had never before heard the name, “Carlomino.” I then realized whose it was. I woke my husband and told him what had happened. I dressed, ran over to the family history center, returned to the film I’d been working on, and looked again. Sure enough–the name I was unable to read the day before was “Carlomino.” Tears came. I knew he delighted in my joy and in my awareness of him. I have since felt so close to him. He and others who’ve seemed to hover over my shoulder as I’ve searched the past have given me strength; they inspired the lyrics of a song that I call “Redeeming Love.”

And then I reached the promised land–the opportunity to offer family the ordinances of salvation–to know that someone administering in the spirit world would unlock the gate of their prison and set them free. Since my family is from a small town in Italy, where people lived for generations, I have been able to secure the names of hundreds of my ancestors and serve as proxy while they receive their ordinances. The time in the temple has been exquisite, full of joy and personal insights on many levels. But beyond that, it has been wonderful to share the temple experiences with others in our ward and stake. It was thrilling in June of 1998 when the youth of the Sandy East Stake were able to serve as proxies for the baptisms of our Italian ancestors. It has been wonderful to share with them this purest of joys–for which there are many counterfeits in their world.

Thinness of the Veil
Since that time, I have felt the closeness of my ancestors. Where I once felt alone in joining the Church, I now feel I’ve an entourage of friends and family around me at various times. I have noticed that there is less and less contention in my home. I know without doubt that they are teaching and influencing my children. I have witnessed their protection of myself and of my children on several occasions. And I have felt a hedge of protection around my home–it is as if guarded by angels–those whom I have been privileged to serve. I no longer fear being alone in my home at night–or any other time. These blessings have attended this great work.

I remember another specific occasion in which I felt “in the company” of those beyond the veil. One day I went to the temple to stand as proxy for Italian relatives who needed to be baptized. As I was confirmed for these women, I received an unmistakable impression. I felt that the women for whom I’d been baptized were not only initiated into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in that moment–the grandest of initiations–but that they were initiated into my circle of friends. In addition, I felt that these women wanted to keep me company in my home and in my life. I recall the warmth and feelings of association.

Sealing My Testimony

One night in the temple, I pondered the changes occurring in some of my loved ones lives.Then another thought attached itself to the previous one like a precious string of pearls forming a necklace. The gems were these impressions: Just as your ancestors prepared the way for you to accept the gospel of Jesus Christ by prompting you along the way, you prepared the way for them to receive it fully through family history and temple ordinances. They, in turn, have come back in great beauty and force to teach, instruct, guide our extended families.

And then came the additional thought: In much the same way, but on a much more significant scale, the Savior prepared the way for us to receive the gospel, and we now have the opportunity to prepare the way for Him through missionary, family history, and temple work–sealing together the human family in preparation for His Second Coming. This pattern is stunning to me.

And these impressions have changed my life.

I have since come to see that family history is synonymous with family healing. The waters of the temple are the waters of life. Those who are faithful are called to work with the Savior in being “repairers of the breach”–or the gaps in the human family caused by sin and error (Isaiah 58:11-12). I testify that we can do this–we can help heal the human family through this glorious work made possible through Christ’s work of proxy for us–his atoning sacrifice. His endowment prepares us for ours and our provision of endowments for others will prepare us to receive the Second Endowment–to see the face of the Lord. It’s better than lobster tail. It’s the fruit off the tree of life itself–white, delicious, sweeter than any other–of that, I bear witness.

My husband and I joined the church in 2004. I truly don’t know how we made it through life before joining. Our daughter married an inactive member in 2002. My son in-law’s father gave her a BOM. She called the missionaries and later was baptized. She sent the missionaries to us and well you know the rest. I know with all my heart that this is the true church and that Joseph Smith was a true prophet. It took a while to gain a testimony, but if you read your scriptures and continue to go church and pray i testify to you it will grow, mine has. I am so very thankful for the temple and what it gives to me and how I always feel the presence of HF, JC and the Spirit there. We were sealed together as man and wife and then sealed to our daughter in 2006. Tanya

Faith only comes after sweat. Faith comes from action. Believing in something relies on action.

President Brigham Young said that inspiration only comes after sweat. This means that we must strive to excel in our work. Thus, when we do our best in our callings, our faith grows. Faith really is a seed. It grows well when it has appropriate nutrients. These nutrients are our efforts.
Our first effort must be to strive to know and love our Heavenly Father.
The Lord is saying “you already know me.” God does not change whether we love Him or not. But there is a change in us. This change is to be purified and to be born again.

D&C 88:63 says:
“Draw near unto me and I will draw near unto you; seek me diligently and ye shall find me; ask, and ye shall receive; knock, and it shall be opened unto you “
This is the way. When filled with God’s love, we can do and see and understand things that we could not otherwise do or see or understand.

A few years ago, when I was a young missionary, I served in a small country. It was a great opportunity for me because the place I usually lived in was a huge city. Because it was so small, there wasn’t even any sister missionaries in my area, so there were few investigators. Also, my mission had a special rule that elders couldn’t teach woman and sisters could not teach man. For this reason, I and my companion had special permission to teach women. However, we discussed it and decided not to teach sisters. Sometimes missionary can have temptations about girls and we didn’t want to make trouble and wanted to work hard. So we decided to proselyte to only men.

We worked really hard. We ran every day. We did do our best every single day. I remember that every night before I fall sleep, I pray to God with a tired body. “Father, I did do my best today just like yesterday. I love you. I want to work harder than today by showing my love tomorrow.”

I taught English twice a week at the church. Because I really didn’t have time to have dinner, I went to the bread store which is right next to the church. There was a young woman who worked at the store.

One night, as I lay down after my prayer just like the other day, I felt strongly to talk to that young woman about the church. I thought “hmm, This must be some kind of strong temptation. However, I will not be tempted. I will stay worthy for 2 years!’ and I fell asleep.

The next morning, when I prayed to open the day, I felt same feeling. I thought again it must be a really strong temptation. I got the feeling a third time when I read Book of Mormon in the morning. So my companion and I discussed this. And we decided to go to meet to her and try to share the gospel.

Because I had never experienced proselyting to a girl, I was shy and afraid. But I got up courage to talk to her.
‘We are missionaries of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We want to introduce the good news that the God who loves you wants you to know Him.’
I was surprised at her response. She said,
‘I’ve been waiting.’
When she was 13 years old, she had had a discussion with sister missionaries. But her family had moved away. Even though she was not a member, she remembered the black name tag.
She recognized the missionaries but she couldn’t talk to them. And nobody introduced the gospel to her. I made an appointment to meet the next day at the church.
The next day, I heard some surprising news from her. The day we talked to her was her last day to work at that place. Also, she had planned to move away a week later. But she delayed her moving for her baptism. Isn’t it surprising? This is our faith. This is the Lord’s work.
After I returned from my mission, I became a MTC teacher in Korea. I taught gospel to missionaries who would serve in Korea. I had the privilege to teach one sister missionary who was baptized by me. Can you guess who she was? It was her: the same girl we taught in that little area. A few months ago, I heard she returned with honor.
I have learned some interesting things from this experience.
1. I would not have had inspiration if I didn’t work hard like I did.
2. I felt the inspiration several times, specifically when I prayed and read scriptures.
3. The 3 inspirations were not voices, but they were small and silent feelings.
Blessings require effort and sacrifice.
Prayer fulfills our sacrifices. It results in miracles. Miracles bring conviction. Conviction strengthens our faith.
Brothers and sisters, the time to serve a calling is limited. And time is passing very quickly.
I pray that we will live worthily and work hard to strengthen our faith and I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ Amen.

In the Lord’s Due Time

By Brother Keith L. Brown
First Counselor, Annapolis Ward Bishopric

This sacrament talk was delivered to the congregation of the Annapolis Maryland Ward of the Annapolis Maryland Stake of Zion of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on Sabbath Day morning, 20 April 2008.

In 1 Nephi 19:23 we learn about likening the Scriptures unto ourselves “that it might be for our profit and learning.” With that thought in mind, I would like to turn to the Old Testament book of Jeremiah, chapter 29, verses 11 through 13 and share a few thoughts with you this morning as to how the Scriptures found there apply to my own personal life and perhaps to your own lives as well.

In Jeremiah 29:11-13 we read these words, “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. Then shall ye call upon me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you. And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.”

On March 10, just a little over a month ago, I celebrated my ten year anniversary as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I actually began investigating the Church in late 1980. I had seen several television commercials about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and each one normally ended with how one could obtain a free copy of the Book of Mormon. I have always had a love for books and was always on the watch for any new book of interest that I might be able to add to my small library of books. Having no knowledge of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and having never heard of or seen a copy of the Book of Mormon, I thought that this might be an interesting addition to my library, and besides it was at the right price, free. What I later found out is that the commercials failed to mention one minor detail. Nothing that I can recall was ever mentioned about the fact that two young men, riding bicycles, dressed in suits would personally deliver the free Book of Mormon. I later learned that these young men were missionaries for the Church.

The day the missionaries arrived at my parents’ home were I was living at the time; I invited them in and had a brief conversation with them. I found that some of what they had to say was of some interest to me and so I invited them to return again in a few days when I had more time to sit and talk with them and continue with our conversation. Time went on and after having met with the missionaries for about 5 months, I decided to leave home and join the United States Navy in March 1981. I thanked the missionaries for taking the time to visit me and teach me about what the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints believes and teaches, and promised that I would continue to investigate the Church and its teachings at a later time. At that time I had only read a few passages from the Book of Mormon and though I had found what I read to be of great interest, I placed the book on the shelf in my library thinking that it would make a good reference book and perhaps I would return to read its pages some day.

Moving forward now in time, I found myself in San Diego California where I attended basic training, my first “A” school in electronics, and was eventually assigned to my first ship, the U.S.S. Jouett CG 29. One day while on liberty from the ship I came across a small bookstore. Being a lover of books I decided to go in and take a look around to see if I might find anything of interest. I did not realize at first that it was an LDS bookstore, but it didn’t take long to figure out. I distinctly remember on that visit I purchased several things to include another copy of the Book of Mormon and a set of conference tapes. I would love to tell you that I went back to the ship and spent time listening to the conference messages and reading the Book of Mormon, but that is not the case. In fact, I tucked the tapes and the Book of Mormon neatly away thinking that I would get back to those some day.

In addition to the conference tapes and the Book of Mormon, I bought several other books. The title of one of the books particularly caught my attention that day for whatever reason. The title of the book is “In The Lord’s Due Time”. I still have that book in my personal library. I did not at that time stop to notice who the book was written by or even what the book was about. I would later come to realize that the book was written by a Black Brother of the Church by the name of Joseph Freeman. The name Joseph Freeman is perhaps unfamiliar to most of you, but Brother Joseph Freeman was the first Black to receive the Priesthood following the 1978 Revelation. I thought that was interesting and wondered what was meant by receiving the Priesthood and what exactly a revelation is. Like the other materials that I purchased that day, I put the book away intending to further research the matter at a later time.

As years went on, I decided to begin studying for the ministry. The Baptist church that I was attending while stationed in Norfolk Virginia had its own Bible College and so I enrolled and began preparing to one day become a Baptist minister. During my course of studies I heard, read, and learned about many negative comments about the Mormon Church and why one should not join this Church. I became very well acquainted with anti-Mormon materials through media resources such as video tapes, cassette tapes, newspapers, magazines and the like. For a time, I even communicated through letters with people who had at one time been members of the Church and for one reason or another had left the Church. Though I will admit that some of the negativity sounded interesting, I could not buy into the fact that this Church was all that these folks where proclaiming it to be. I reflected upon the things that the missionaries and I had discussed in earlier years and came to the conclusion that there must be more to the story than these folks that were against the Church were telling, and that there must be some evidence of truth in what the missionaries had taught me. In short, I determined in my mind that I would seek after the truth and ignore all of the negativity.

Let us move forward in time once again. The year is now 1997 and I found myself stationed at a NATO command in Keflavik Iceland. One day as I was surfing the internet in my room, I decided to do a search on the Mormon Church out of curiosity just to see what I might find. I found a link for the Church News and decided to check it out. I later found an email address and decided to send an email to the newspaper inquiring as to the cost of sending a subscription to the newspaper to an overseas location. I received an email back from one of the editors of the newspaper at that time whose name was Doug Osborn. In his email he inquired as to what I was doing in Iceland and what my interest was in the Mormon Church. I sent an email back stating that I was serving in the United States Navy and that I was merely interested in reading about what was going on in the Mormon Church at that time. He emailed me back and said that he thought that was interesting and then he said, please do not be upset with me, and I hope you do not mind, but I have contacted the local missionaries in your area and have asked them to contact you. Partially thinking that I was on a secure NATO base and that the chances of the missionaries being able to locate me was slim to none, I wrote back stating that would be fine. A few days later my telephone rang. I answered the phone and who do you suppose was on the other end of the line? You guessed it, a missionary from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My first question was how he obtained my telephone number. He replied that it was really quite easy, I just called the operator and she gave it to me. My thoughts were, well so much for security. I gave them my address and invited them over.

To make a long story short Brothers and Sisters, I met with several groups of missionaries over the course of about a year. We had many wonderful conversations and discussions about the Bible and the Book of Mormon. At times they were asking me where I found certain Scriptures and would make notes of them. At other times they would call me and tell me that they found another investigator that was also Baptist and asked how I would handle answering certain questions that their investigator had. It became a great teaching / learning experience for each of us.

Finally, in January 1998, I told the missionaries that I appreciated everything that they had taught me and that I would not make a final decision about being baptized until after I had read the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants and the Pearl of Great Price in their entirety. I believe that the Lord had a hand in that as well as I believe that I was inspired to develop a 40-day reading schedule to complete all of the reading. For the very first time, a little over 17 years after my initial investigation of the Church, and for 40 consecutive days prior to my baptism, I read the Book of Mormon in its entirety, followed by the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price each in their entirety. Having completed all of the reading, I returned to Moroni’s promise as recorded in the Book of Mormon in Moroni 10: 3-5 – “Behold, I would exhort you that when ye shall read these things, if it be wisdom in God that ye should read them, that ye would remember how merciful the Lord hath been unto the children of men, from the creation of Adam even down until the time that ye shall receive these things, and ponder it in your hearts. 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; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost. And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.” After reading those words I knelt beside my bed and asked the Lord to let me know if these things were indeed true. I received my answer, called the missionaries and on the evening of Tuesday, March 10, 1998, I was baptized and became a member of the Lord’s true Church, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The rest as they say is history with all things being fulfilled and accomplished according to the Lord’s plans and in His due time.

Brothers and Sisters, I may not know a whole lot, but what I know, I know of a surety. I know that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the Lord’s true Church upon the earth today. I know that Joseph Smith was and is a prophet of God. I know that the Bible and the Book of Mormon are the Word of God and that both testify of a loving Savior and Redeemer. I know that President Thomas S. Monson is our prophet today and I sustain him as Prophet, Seer, and Revelator as I also sustain his counselors. I also know that our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ holds all of my tomorrows in the palm of His hand. He has already prepared the work that He would have me do in the days ahead, is preparing me to do that work, and will one day in His due time call me forth to accomplish that work. Whether the work will be in a section of the vineyard of this great Stake of Zion or wherever the Lord may call me to serve, I humbly pray that I, like Nephi of old will be obedient to the call and go forth and do those things which the Lord commands.

I close by reading once again the words found in Jeremiah 29:11-13 – “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. Then shall ye call upon me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you. And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.”

God our Eternal Heavenly Father lives and Jesus is the Christ. Of these things I do so testify and bear solemn witness in His Sacred Holy name. Amen.

“The best thing that happened on my mission was…” is quite a question. And it begs the question: “What does ‘best’ mean?” One could refer to a most memorable experience, or the experience that had the greatest impact, either on one’s self or on another person. Is the best thing that happened that my own testimony became more unshakable, or that I was privileged to be instrumental in bringing into the Church someone destined to be a local leader, or is it a particular, specific faith-promoting experience? I almost feel like I have to say all of the above. The best thing that happened on my mission was that I had many experiences that strengthened my own faith and that led to the conversion and strengthening of several people, with the end result that the Kingdom of God was built up. But I’m sure the point of the question must be, rather, to elicit stories of faith-building experiences, so that others can share in those vicariously. So with that preface, I will cheat, and share more than one.

As background, I served in the Bolivia-Santa Cruz mission, between October 1978-October 1980. At the time, the mission included all the ‘departments’ (states) of Bolivia except La Paz, Oruro and Potosí. The city of Santa Cruz is laid out in concentric rings, with broad avenues forming ‘spokes’ radiating out from the central square, or plaza.

One night my companion and I were tracting along one of the ‘spokes,’ making sure we visited the scattered homes along the avenue as we made our way from one neighborhood to another. We were admitted to one house where we sat with the father of a family and his son-in-law and his daughter’s boyfriend. The father was quite resistant and smug in his ‘born-a-Catholic, die-a-Catholic” comfort, and seemed to enjoy contradicting and arguing with us. Ultimately we fell back to bearing our testimonies in preparation for excusing ourselves. As we reviewed the basics and bore testimony of Joseph Smith and the Restoration, most everyone in the room sat politely and the father leaned back in his chair, the very picture of skepticism. The daughter’s boyfriend, however leaned forward with his eyes wide, raptly attentive to every word. As we bid farewell, he shook our hands vigorously and said, with a directness not usual in Latin culture, “I want you to visit my house!” We did so and by the end of our first visit, the Spirit was so strong that, standing at the door we explained the need for baptism and invited Rolando to follow the Savior in being baptized. He readily agreed and, after determining that sacrificing soccer play on Sundays was worth the reward, became a member of the Church. Lessons with Rolando were always spiritual feasts for all of us and we were often moved to tears. In particular, I will always remember the spirit that attended us as Rolando read for the first time from D&C 121. His girlfriend later joined the Church also, they married and Rolando went on to serve as Bishop, Stake President and Mission President. Proof that the Lord knows where his sheep are hidden and is able to call them one of a city and two of a family.

In another town, Quillacollo, near Cochabamba, I was newly assigned and went with my companion to visit a woman he and his prior companion had baptized. She had health and employment issues and had asked for a blessing. Her husband had just abandoned her, she was expecting and doctors had told her that without surgery she would lose her child, yet her employer had told her if she took time off for the surgery, she would lose her position. My own faith was weak and I was afraid that I would not be able to do anything to help her. In fact, I’m ashamed to recall having thought, almost scornfully, “What does she expect? A miracle!?” As I listened to her explain her plight, however, I was touched by her simple faith and resolved within myself to give voice to whatever prompting I might feel in blessing her. As soon as I placed my hands on her head, I had a flash of understanding, like comprehending the entire contents of a book just by picking it up. From there, I was left to put into words everything that I had learned so suddenly. Sister Justiniano received her miracle, and while she did have to submit to surgery, she kept both her job and her baby and the son I had known she carried was born and I was privileged to be present as he was blessed.

These experiences, among others, taught me that God is real, that he knows his children individually and that He hears their concerns and responds to them with compassion and love, that the priesthood authority claimed by the Church is indeed the power of God directed through men to bless His children, and that a person’s faith is efficacious in calling down blessings from heaven. Above all, I can testify that the work of the Church is His work and He actively directs it.

Missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormon missionaries) serve for 18-24 months. In this video, Elder Canton Hutchison explains why he decided to serve an LDS mission, just weeks before leaving for Kenya, Africa.

My Testimony….the Mortal Test (poem)”””’

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 Testimony

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.

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!!!

Yediyd…..a Hebrew word. It means: beloved friend.

My Testimony: Mormon Missionaries are men of God

My testimony of the Mormon Church