Hugs for Patricia

I was one of those kids who started trying to find God when I was small. I remember my first airplane trip at 4 – staring out into the clouds trying to see His face. I don’t know why I was blessed with such an absolute need to be baptized into the ‘right’ church, but I was driven – trying to read and understand a Bible I found on the shelf; talking my parents into letting me walk by myself across town after school when I was 9 so I could go to one church’s activities every week.

My parents and I went to LDS Cottage Meetings when I was a little girl, but they were held at some really fanatical members’ home (they wouldn’t put ice in their kool-aid because it wasn’t moderate!) and we were taught bizarre ‘doctrine.’ When my parents were told that their beloved ancestors wouldn’t go to heaven because they weren’t baptized, that did it. We were done with those weirdos.

When I turned 16 & was about to graduate from high school, I wanted an anchor for my life ahead away from home. I knew that ALL churches couldn’t be right, so I prayed to be led to the church that was closest to what God had intended. When the Holy Ghost said, “Go to the Mormon church” I actually laughed and replied that I already knew they were nuts. But after about three days of the same prompting, I started to ask the LDS kids at school question after question. They were so patient – and smart enough to give little bits at a time!

What finally sealed the deal for me was when I was invited to an activity to a nursing home to sing Christmas carols. First of all, I couldn’t believe that a bunch of teenagers would willingly and happily do that. Then I walked into the Church building for the first time and I was just… home. There’s no other way to describe the feeling.

That was 40 years ago, and nearly every day I marvel that I found THE church with an actual “Moses” alive today. That I’m among those “one in a million.” And I wonder why I was so blessed from such an early age to be led to the way home. I’m so grateful.