I was born in the South of England into a nominally religious family and always believed in God but it was not until my sister joined a local church youth group at the urging of her best friend that I really came into contact with Christianity. I too joined the youth club and liked and believed what I saw and heard there. I accepted the tremendous sacrifice Jesus Christ had made for me, repented of my sins, gave my heart to Jesus and was “born again”. I joined the Christian Union at school, became part of the “Christian scene” and was neither ashamed nor afraid to own what I believed. I was about fourteen, Mission England was in full swing, it was exciting to be a Christian.
And yet I wondered whether I really was. I didn’t feel any different, prayers seemed to be words offered to thin air, the Bible washed over me, I was plagued with doubt. At Christian gatherings, I often went up at the altar call to try once again to commit my life to the Lord and feel genuine about doing so. I heard Nicky Cruz speak, and Billy Graham, I went to Spring Harvest and recommitted myself time and again, but always felt empty inside.
I read a book, “Is Anyone There?” by David Watson which answered some of my questions and confirmed to me that this was right, this was what I believed, whether I felt it in my heart or not. I was assured then that when someone prays committing their life to God and accepting Christ’s sacrifice they are saved whether they feel confirmation of it or not. God honours that prayer and, my sister later told me, your salvation begins from that point, whatever you may do later. For many years I attributed my conversion to that book, and I certainly held desperately to its promise, for I felt a hypocrite among spirit filled Christians.
So when I was seventeen and a dear friend called Ruth told me that she envied me my faith and wanted to find God for herself I was confused, partly because of her misplaced envy and also because I was about to go to University in Wales and didn’t really have the time to spend helping her. So I directed her to a local church and went to Wales where almost immediately I met a young man called Ioan Jones. He was training for the Anglican priesthood and I envisaged his spirituality rubbing off on me as we studied the Bible together, prayed together and worked in the church together. We were engaged weeks after we met and he once explained to me why I was the right woman for him. “I wanted a Christian girl” he said, “And you definitely are.” “Am I?” I thought. “Oh good.” Despite this we never did pray or study together, partly because he preferred to do so in Welsh, his first language, but also because of an awkwardness between us when it came to spiritual matters. We married in 1990.
My letters to Ruth were all about Ioan, I paid little attention to her search for God until I returned home at Christmas 1987 and she announced with excitement and pride that she’d found a wonderful church – she’d joined the Mormons. My blood seemed to freeze in my veins. I explained to her what had been drummed into me – that there were certain “churches”, including the Mormons, whose doctrines were so absurd as to be anti-Christian, that they were evil and brainwashed people in order to get members for their money. She was having none of it and my response – partly spurred on by guilt that I had failed to guide her when she asked me – was to buy every anti-Mormon book I could find and write to her weekly when I returned to University about the errors of the LDS church. Nothing worked. Two years after her baptism Ruth married the returned missionary who had first knocked on her door, and moved to Utah. I became obsessed with hatred of the church which had robbed me of my dear friend (she gave up replying to my fiery letters) and swore no one else would lose a loved one as I had.
My obsession continued for many years. I became involved with anti-Mormon organisations like ex-Mormons for Jesus, and Reachout Trust for whom I was an Area Director. I leafleted homes warning householders not to speak to Mormons, I lectured church groups and I even wrote a booklet on the subject. I loved arguing with missionaries (who often told me I was more knowledgeable about their religion that they were) and claimed that my attack was really a defence of my own faith. In truth I had no real faith, I rarely prayed now and only turned to my Bible to look up verses which might contradict Mormon doctrine.
Even while presenting my arguments, I knew deep within that many were flawed, or at least spurious. For example, I claimed that there could be no scripture written after the Bible because of the claim at the end of Revelation, the last book in the New Testament: “I testify unto every man that heareth the words … of this book, if any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written of in this book.” (Revelation 22:18) Even whilst using this argument as a reason for rejecting the Book of Mormon I knew that the warning applied only to the book of Revelation, because most of the New Testament was written after these words had been recorded.
In 1992 I received a letter from the LDS church’s solicitors in London accusing me of trying to obtain goods by deception (I had attempted to order temple recommends from the distribution centre) and warning me that legal action would be taken if I did not cease to slander the church. I decided that enough was enough and agreed to end my campaign, to Ioan’s great relief. I wrote to Ruth offering an olive branch, which was joyfully accepted, and visited her in Utah to renew the friendship, discovering in the process that Mormons are actually normal people.
I wish I could say that I forgot about my hatred of the church, but although I was prevented from actively working against it, I was still fascinated by it, and not a day went by that I did not think about this amazing and intriguing religion. Some months later I began to feel the first twinges of guilt and seized upon the opportunity to invite the missionaries for tea one day so that they could convey my apologies to the local members who had suffered most. Even though I wouldn’t be arguing with them, I loved being with Mormon missionaries, and expected these to be two green young Americans.
To my surprise they turned out to be two very intelligent and confident young men, Elder Bleakley was from Kent and Elder Merl was Austrian. After our meal I outlined the situation and told them I now felt I had behaved badly and wanted them to express an apology on my behalf to the members of Gaerwen ward. They agreed, and then began to teach me the familiar first discussion. I let them go on, suddenly feeling that I did not really have one valid objection to them doing so. The church had intrigued and fascinated me for years, and despite all its strange teachings it remained the fastest growing church in the world, millions of others like me felt that there was something which drew us to it. So when they asked me to read to the Book of Mormon I agreed.
I read a little, but it was only a few pages before I realised that I had to be baptised. I felt drawn to the church anew. Five years of study and meeting many ordinary Mormons had persuaded me that it was not actually evil, that if there was a true church on the earth then this was it. I wondered whether there was a deeper reason why my spirit had always been so drawn to the church. I felt that there were a hundred reasons why I should now be baptised.
Since mine was such a special case I was interviewed for baptism by Jeffrey R. Holland who was then the Area President (and is now an Apostle). He truly impressed me with his humility at his calling and his deep love of Jesus which was evident in the reverent way he spoke of the saviour. He gave his permission, and I was baptised in June 1993. The local members welcomed me and readily forgave me, and I loved attending the LDS church for its friendliness and activities. For six months I was truly “one of them” until Ioan realised that I no longer hated the church and gave me an ultimatum – the Mormons or our marriage. I chose our marriage and returned to the Anglican fold and my obligations as a curate’s wife. For almost two years I had nothing to do with the LDS church, and kept my membership of the church a secret for fear it could damage my husband’s job and promotion prospects.
Our first child, Gwenllian, was born in August 1995. As babies do she woke often in the night and once I’d fed and settled her I had trouble getting back to sleep despite my tiredness. I remembered that the difficult old fashioned language of Shakespeare used to have a soporific effect on me during my student days so I turned to something with a similar old-fashioned style but less bulk – the Book of Mormon. I had never read it before.
Far from sending me to sleep I have a clear memory of sitting beside the cot wide awake and being filled with the wonder of the words I was reading. A strange warmth and joy swept through me, a feeling of being utterly loved, forgiven and accepted. Not only did the realisation that the book was true and a work of holy scripture come to me, but I knew that I had always known it. The person I had been trying to convince that it was wrong all this time was not Ruth but myself. Overwhelmed, I fell to my knees in joyful prayer and this time I felt my prayer heard and answered and knew and experienced for myself the real and loving presence of my Heavenly Father.
In the morning everything seemed different, the world was a beautiful creation which now made sense to me, I was filled with love and joy and sang hymns constantly. Finally I had what the Mormons call a Testimony and what other Christians might call the baptism of the holy spirit. I was well aware of two problems, however. First, that it was the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints which had brought me to this point, a church which my entire family and all my friends believed to be an evil cult and which I had promised my husband to have nothing more to do with. Second, that I had levelled some difficult charges and objections to the LDS faith during my anti-Mormon days and as intense as this feeling in my heart was, I could not be led by it alone, my head needed to be convinced too.
My obvious starting point was to see whether this “testimony” applied to other churches – particularly ones not banned by my husband! I tried my husband’s church, of course (he was now a vicar with his own parish), the Salvation Army for a month, the Catholic church, an independent Evangelical church and an Assemblies of God Pentecostal church where I found I knew most of the members from the University Christian Union. In fairness to other evil cults I even tried the Jehovah’s Witnesses! I did not feel the spirit in any of them. While I enjoyed the experience and the people were often friendly I did not feel any confirmation within that they were right (although were it just a matter of personal taste the Salvation Army would have been my choice).
During this time I also read the Bible carefully and answered many of the objections I had put to Mormonism with ease – indeed many of them just seemed “nitpicking” now. I found much in the Bible which confirmed the Mormon view and wondered how I had missed it before. I prayed at length too about my confusion with mainstream Christian churches, and my Father told me he loved and honoured all those who worshipped him and that they had the eternal life they sought, but the LDS church was where I belonged and where I could find the fullness of the gospel and the greatest joy here and in eternity.
So I finally spoke to Ioan and asked to be permitted to go there. He was adamant – he’d taken second place to the Mormons in my life long enough, the “Mormons or our marriage” choice still stood. I spoke to his Bishop (equivalent to a Stake President) asking whether my conversion, if known, could affect his career. Yes, was the reply. I contacted my own LDS Bishop for advice and was told to stick by Ioan, to love him and to pray for him. So I resolved to live the gospel and to study the scriptures alone, continuing to attend other churches, until such time as my prayers were answered.
After about a year Ioan was forced to resign from his job with the Church in Wales due to mental illness and alcoholism, and I became the breadwinner for our family. He still hated the church and burned my scriptures – even Bibles – whenever he found them. I continued to study (buying a Book of Mormon whenever I saw one in a second hand bookshop) and pray and live the gospel and my testimony continued to strengthen as my relationship with my Father and Saviour developed, and my relationship with my husband deteriorated. In May 1999 Ioan agreed that I could attend church once each month provided no one from church ever came to our home.
The wonderful spirit present at that first sacrament meeting moved me to tears, I had forgotten just how powerful it could be. The atmosphere of loving reverence was unlike anything I had experienced before, and my testimony grew yet further as I learned more, followed the guidance of the spirit and saw the miracles and blessings poured out. Our second daughter, Angharad, was born in November 2000 and in 2001 Ioan finally permitted me to attend church every Sunday. After much heartache and persuasion he finally wrote a letter of permission for me to attend the Preston Temple for my Endowment in February 2003. I had waited so long, I truly felt the wonder of it, it was an amazing experience to finally be in the Lord’s house.
Sadly Ioan’s dependence on alcohol continued, and after considerable prayer and fasting I decided to end our marriage, and Ioan moved out of the family home in December 2003 having lost his job, his faith, and finally his family, because of alcohol. We divorced in 2004, shortly before our third daughter, Ceridwen, was born.
I moved back to Essex where I joined a large and thriving ward and met a wonderful and worthy returned missionary called Roderic Buttimore, a man of great spiritually and integrity, and with whom I shared many common interests. We were married and sealed for eternity in the London Temple in August 2006. My testimony continues to grow, and I love being part of a fully active LDS family. I have been so very blessed.
I am grateful that I have at last come to truly know and love my Heavenly Father and my dear saviour Jesus Christ, and to feel and respond to the love they have for me. I now know the reality of the sacrifice Jesus made for me, and am grateful for it. I had longed for many years for this closeness to my Father and it is all I had hoped. I am sad that many people who are dear to me are offended that this has only happened in a Mormon context, I am sorry and understand their pain – I went through it with Ruth after all. I only know that this is the truth I found – the Book of Mormon is scripture, another Gospel of Jesus Christ to stand alongside the Bible, our loving Father still speaks to us and calls prophets to guide us in our day, and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the Saviour’s restored church and teaches the fullness of His gospel. In His precious name, Amen.
~ Anna Buttimore ~
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Thanks everyone for your hugs and your inspiring comments. Hugs back! I love the church, and I love the members of it. So grateful to my Heavenly Father for bringing me on this amazing journey.
It takes courage to admit when you are wrong and it takes courage to press forward with faith when those around you are encouraging you to do the opposite.
I have a degree in psychology and I am always interested in behavior and why people do and say the things they do. One part really struck me- and it’s when you said you realized you were trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince Ruth. It made me think back to when I was serving on the temple grounds as a missionary at Christmastime. There were anti-Mormon protesters shouting in the streets for people to “come out from among them!” In that moment, I always thought, “Don’t they realize the Spirit the people are feeling here on the Temple grounds and that their shouting and screaming is only helping them to feel the goodness here when compared to the evil comments being shouted out there? I used to always think, “They are trying to convince themselves- because everyone here knows what they are saying is not true…”
Thanks for being willing to share your story.
I admire your courage and your willingness to follow truth.
I am inspired by your strength.
-Lisa
AH! I wrote this huge comment and I accidently deleted it! HUGS to you. What an amazing story! After everything you went through, you still believed, I think that is amazing! Your testimony brought tears to my eyes, you are so strong. I think it is funny that anti mormon lit brought you to the church. The Spirit of God is what converts, no anti book or information can keep the Gospel of Jesus Christ from rolling forth. I have had my interactions with anti mormon people, we have them sometimes trying to convert the missionaries here. They are climbing an uphill battle and need to be careful because like you, this Spirit will testify that it is true!!!! 🙂 Your story is absolutely amazing. Thank you for sharing and congrats on your eternal marriage! HUGS
Hugs to you, Anna! I’ve heard parts of your conversion before, so I really enjoyed reading the whole story. Seeing as we named our firstborn son after your husband, I hope to someday give you a hug in person!
Hi Malauna! Yes, what a fine name you chose! I too hope to meet you someday. I’m so glad everyone enjoyed hearing my testimony. It’s not the best way to come into the church, but I like to think I’ve done more to build it up since I joined than I ever did to bring it down.
Amazing story. Thanks for sharing, Anna.
Wow! That is an amazing story.
Everyone is remarking that you are like Alma the younger and I have to agree. What a powerful conversion story, I’m stunned. Thank you Anna for sharing your difficult yet amazing journey of faith and conversion.
Thank you Anna! Your story is so moving. I am so glad that you found truth.
Hugs to Anna! What a difficult journey. Thank you for sharing so honestly and openly. Thank you for your strong testimony.
Just WOW. I have a brother in the throes of anti-Mormonism, and I pray every day that he might return. I really appreciate your humility and willingness to share your story today. {{{Hugs!}}}
I am a lurker and not usually a commentator, but this story really touched me today. Thanks so much for sharing, Anna.
You’re like Alma the Younger! I love your story – thanks for sharing it!
Wow. And I thought *I * had had a wild and woolly trek to conversion. So happy for you that you got here. Big hugs from Texas.
Anna, thank you so much for sharing your story. It has really touched my heart. Your experience reminds me of Alma the younger and his conversion. You’re a choice daughter of our Heavenly Father. You are very precious to Him and He wants you to be happy. I pray that you will let your light shine for the world to see how the Gospel has changed your life brought you joy. *hugs*
Many hugs, Anna. It is wonderful to feel the strong testimony you have gained through your arduous journey. Thank you for sharing.