Finding My Faith - Part 2

This is the second part of my conversion story. If you missed the first part, go here. 

So last time, I talked about Amanda and how she introduced me to the Church. I wanted to take a moment in this part to kind of explain my background before I pick up where I left off. I was born and raised in the Lutheran Church. My mom taught Sunday school and took us to church pretty much every single Sunday. Every summer I went to church camp, vacation Bible school, and other church activities. When I was going into the 8th grade, my parents got a divorce. I handled it as well as any 12-year-old could handle it. When people at our church found out they turned on my mother. They said and did some mean and nasty things to and about her. She stopped going. It also turned me off to organized religion as well. I still believed in God and was a very spiritual person. I could never really find a place to belong after I lost my first church home. I couldn't stomach going back there. I couldn't believe in a Church that allowed their congregation to act in the manner that they did. 

I've always had trouble with my faith. My soul hungered for a relationship with God. I knew He was there, waiting for me but I could never really grasp it fully. I'd go through spurts of reading the Bible every day and then not touching it for months. I just couldn't get into it. I could never really feel the Spirit for long periods of time. It was so frustrating sometimes. I wanted this relationship so badly but I couldn't feel it strongly. 

My freshman year of college, I attended one service at a Lutheran church near campus and had a really bad experience. It wasn't really negative, but it wasn't positive either. Not on person said anything to me. Not even the pastor. I didn't feel very welcome. Once again, I was disappointed in organized religion and stopped searching. 

So, back to the night I found the Missionaries. After a few technical glitches, I found myself talking to a missionary named Elder Albright. His passion about the Gospel really impressed me. He was patient with me from the very first time we spoke. I don't remember what he taught me specifically on that first night but I do remember praying for the first time in a very long time and it finally feeling right. 

Over the next few weeks I quietly began learning from Elder Albright, talking with him online for an hour at a time and finally finding peace. Finally, one day, he asked me if I'd like to get a visit from the Missionaries in my area. I agreed. Then, I got cold feet. I was living with 3 girls at the time and I was afraid of what they would think if they came home and 2 missionares were sitting with me. At that time, my faith was beginning to grow but it was still very fragile and I admit I was afraid of what people would say. I was afraid that my faith couldn't take the challenges I knew my roommates would throw my way. I was still in that 'I don't know if this is the one true Church' phase. I decided to ask them if we could meet at the Church building instead. They agreed and set up an appointment. The day came and went and I chickened out. I didn't go. I ignored the Elder's phone calls. I'm really ashamed of the way I acted but I was scared. I was scared that I was going to be faced with spiritual disappointment once again and I didn't know if my faith could withstand another disappointment. 

I also started to ignore Elder Albright and even Amanda. I had told her about my investigating the Church and she was ecstatic. I've made some pretty poor decisions in my life, but this one took the cake. I shut down over the next few weeks and refused to listen to what my heart was telling me. I refused to listen to the promptings. 

That summer, I went to Boston with my sister and mom to visit colleges for Kelly. We stayed outside of the city and drove in when we had college visits. Every single time we drove in and out we drove right past the Boston Temple. Every time, my heart tugged in a way that I didn't really understand. I began to think about what I had learned and how right it had felt. I began to think about the missionaries, Elder Albright, and Amanda and how poorly I had treated them weeks before. 

I didn't have one of those huge, inspired, 'ah ha' moments. I didn't even have one of those quiet realizations while I was deep in prayer. It was just something I felt. I couldn't get the Temple off of my mind. 

When I got back from Boston, I emailed Elder Albright and Amanda and apologized for how I had acted and tried to explain myself. I was so happy that neither of them were mad at me and quickly said they were happy that I was back asking questions. Elder Albright began to teach me again. Amanda and I started to catch up again. I was still to chicken to meet with the missionaries in person though. In August, I moved into my own apartment and finally felt free. I began learning from Elder Albright more and more and he had started to encourage me to go to Church on Sunday. 

Go to Church? All by myself? To a place where I knew no one? I'd done that before and it had crashed and burned. Again, I was afraid that my faith couldn't handle another disappointment.