How It Happened: The Surprisingly Uneventful Story of the Conversion of Margaret David

A letter from my dear friend, whom I happened to meet as a missionary, and whom I most definitely did NOT convert. 

June 6, 2014

My dear Jenny,

It is such a privelege to write you, love. I know that you will recieve my letters with much rejoicing, and that fills my soul with sunshine and rainbows. And now (*drumroll*) the moment you've been waiting for ...How It Happened: The Surprisingly Uneventful Story of the Conversion of Margaret David!

Jenny, I know you would think that I'm so very interesting that I would just *have* to have a really great story. And of course, it is really, really great in its very own way, but I'm a firm believer that the best is yet to come; I can feel it even thought I can't quite identify it. Still, I will try to humor you as much as possible.

If there were a key to all of this, I know more than ever the power of God's timing and the perfection of His plan. There are so many components, small and large, that have led me here. I had to get a job in Oklahoma City, be furloughed from that job, work at Philmont, meet Jacob the one day he was scheduled to be at my camp, foster that friendship the next time I saw him, fall in love and want to know all I could about the things that are important to him, choose to maintain a long distance relationship, choose to work part of the winter in Idaho which allowed me to get used to going to church with him, see how his lovely family operated in light of their faith, make the difficult move back to OKC to get my job back, find out that Jacob planned to spend a good chunk of time here, feel compelled to start going to the ward in an attempt to network him a place to stay (which worked out beautifully, by the way), feel incredibly welcomed that first day, and then take the opportunities I've been given to learn and grow since that time.

And those are only SOME of the physical things! Here's the good stuff:

Turning Point #1: When I went teaching with you all the very first time, I was moved by her simple faith, She clearly didn't feel like she needed to know everything in order to follow the pull of her heart. I felt small in comparison; I thought my faith was so great, but I realized belief is only a part of that. She was willing to act without complete understanding. I was blessed that night.

Turning Point #2: I read a book called 'Til Faith Do Us Part,' knowing more fully as I finished it that I was far more naïve about my interfaith relationship than I imaged. While this did little to convince me for or against the LDS faith, it did much in the way of showing me how much better it can be for partners to be religiously united. So, I was able to give conversion a fair chance and due consideration. At the very least, I promised myself and Jacob that I wouldn't rule it out.

Turning Point #3: This one was scary. I was fasting one day and asked Abba what I should study. He responded immediately and tangibly, as a voice in my head: "CONSIDER MY WORD." Wow, okay, sure. What exactly do you want me to read? Three times at least, softly in my consciousness at first and then finally I heard clearly: "READ THE BOOK OF MORMON." I literally and physically had a panic attack (saying, "God, you're giving me a panic attack!" to which He quickly replied, "No, you are giving you a panic attack." Funny guy.).  I finally composed myself and read that day 2 Nephi 1-2, 31-32. It showed me that if I could dig that deeply into this book, it was certainly written by the greatest Author of our faith.

Turning Point #4: Reading "Falling in Love with Joseph Smith." 'Nuff said.

Turning Point #4.5: Admitting to Jacob that I love this church and simultaneously finally being answered by my Heavenly Father that the little blue book is truly His.

Turning Point #5: Not being invited to be baptized by you all (if that makes any sense).

Turning Point #6: Feeling a part of the congregation enough to testify in church on June the First 2014 that nothing we do comes as a surprise to God.

Turning Point #7: Having a very long/good convo with Bishop Gillespie and saying yes to his invitation, my first invite from the ward.

Turning Point #8: Realizing my deep fear ("What are you afraid of?" "I don't even know.") only existed as an exercise to hold on to the homeostasis of my faith. Repenting of that blatant sin, receiving true forgiveness, and feeling the fear leave me as quickly as I prayed sincerely, "Lord, I don't want this fear as an excuse anymore!" Then, I was left without any excuse, I'm free to just do.

J, it was only a matter of time, but it had to happen just as it did. Otherwise, I'd never be convinced of myself. It had to be Him all along. He had to show me little by little. This is all true, every whit, and I give it to you in Christ's name, Amen.

love, MED

Liminal Space

Liminal: of, relating to, or being an intermediate state, phase, or condition : in-between, transitional

I love liminal spaces. Airports are my favorite.

The moment that I have dreamed about for 18 months was even better than my nighttime visions.

There were seven of us flying into Salt Lake City, four elders and three sisters. We waited until everyone else was off the plane, and then we delayed a little longer by stopping by the restrooms. When we arrived at the escalators, we froze. There was a great debate about who should go first, but no one volunteered as tribute. We were stuck in a liminal space, too excited and jittery to burst into a new world. 

God sent an angel. He didn't look like one, but I'm sure he was. A nonassuming airport serviceman. He was a smiley man of hispanic descent with a small stud in each ear. He shouted to us as we hovered by the moving stairs.

"Scared?"

We responded in the affirmative. 

"Follow me! They can't see you if you come down the elevator."

Sneak-attack! It was a brilliant plot. We piled into the elevator made only for wheelchairs (this was permissible because he was pushing a woman in a wheelchair, and he had a badge that made him look official enough). It was a short descent. 

He spoke encouraging words over his shoulders while he pushed us down the hall, around the corner...

and there was Ellie on Dad's shoulders. And then a blur of banners and a roaring kindred crowd. I headed to the left where I knew my family was. I didn't mean to cry, but it felt so safe. I felt relief. 

The mission is oh, so good. 
But I'm quite sure that I have passed from a telestial sphere to one nearly celestial.

"Our heaven is little more than a projection of our homes into eternity" --Richard L Stephens

Amazing Week!

Dressed for Prayer

Dressing appropriately for prayer with our new Muslim friends from Morocco.

Ten Mission Truths

Hermana Dupape challenged me to author a list. The numerical limit is ten. The experiences span the last 18 months. Ready, set, write:

1. God loves me.

My journal says so. Four hundred fifty days of repeated chorus: "This is how I saw His love today." New stories, same theme.

2. God loves you.

Let's pretend that the people that I've met over the past 18 months constitute a random sampling of all of God's children. Drawing upon my excellent inner statistical skills*, I have learned that God loves approximately...well, everyone. He definitely loves a lot of people that I had never considered before.

He loves the drug dealer with whom we prayed at the Raindance apartments last February. I know, because I felt compassion for the man when he told the story of his debased, abused life. He loves nine-year old Avery** in Lawton. He led us to her because he knew that she needed a pair of adoring sister missionaries and the love of a doting ward. God also loves the man who pulled a knife on us that summer in his apartment breezeway. I know because I felt like laughing and conversing with the kid despite the seriousness of the situation. We prayed for him again that night, and I'm sure I'll never forget his name -Steven- to pray for him.

God has given me spiritual (if not statistical) eyes. I've seen something of the human soul that quite surprised me (D&C 18:10).

3. The Priesthood is real.

Elders are weird. They wear ties and dress shirts every day. They don't date. They play sports only once a week, and then they play with uncanny sportsmanship. I'm sure they're just boys, but I find them peculiar.

I hear what regular teenage boys say, and I see what they do. Elders are weird, but in the most sacred sense. Weird like God is weird. Weird like I hope my husband will be weird. Weird simply because they are separated from the world and live on a higher plane.

I will be eternally grateful for Priesthood holders, and for the example of teenage disciples of Jesus Christ (Matthew 10). This is how God teaches us to be men, or to be women, and to work together. The Priesthood is His way.

4. I am happy.

And I can be happy even when my humanoid agenda gets all crumpled up and frustrated. Here is the secret: Kind words. Find them wherever you can. Speak them, sing them, incorporate them in increasingly complex ways into your vocabulary. Tell them to others. Shout them enthusiastically when the situation is dark. Listen to them. Search them out in books. Spend time with people who use them (children are obviously the best).
I choose to be happy.

5. Shouting praises is fun.

I've wondered about this "shouting praises" thing. The scriptures speak of heavenly noises, but I wasn't sure how to translate them into everyday vernacular. I thought I knew what it was when I became acquainted with Pentecostal Christians, but it didn't quite fit. Then  I met Hermana Dupape.

Shouting praises is discussing miracles every day. It is saying, "Sister. You won't BELIEVE what I learned from the scriptures today!!" It is giving your companion a standing ovation just because she exists. Putting a robust operatic tune to psalms and singing them aloud. It is jumping up and clicking one's heels while tracting. It is authentic and exuberant and real.

6. God loves the dreamer.

He has answered every pulsating plea of my heart. Sometimes I start to doubt Him, but it's really just a matter of time. I write it down, I pray about it, I visualize it in my head. And it happens! Graduation and Jerusalem and nannying and missions...it all happens. Someday the list will include travel and PhDs and marriage and children. Ether promises the faithful that they can hope for a better world (Ether 12). It's sort of Matthew 5-7ish.

8. "Prayer is better than sleep."  ~Kismet

Not that sleep isn't fabulous. But 18 months without naps demands alternative modes of rest. The lunchtime cat-nap is commendable, as is the honest journal entry. But the most restful non-sleep that I have yet discovered is the heavenly gift of prayer.

9. God loves all of His children.

We might reasonably claim a fullness, but I find sacred perspectives in all religions. I hereby applaud the Jehovah's Witnesses for tracting with us. The Baptists for being loud about Christ. Non Denominationals for including everyone. Church of Christ for giving homage to striving families. Muslims for loving prophets.

"Perhaps the Lord needs such men on the outside of His Church to help it along. They...can do more good for the cause where the Lord has placed them, than anywhere else...hence some are drawn into the fold and receive a testimony of the truth; while others remain unconverted...the beauties and glories of the gospel being veiled temporarily from their view, for a wise purpose. The Lord will open their eyes in His own due time. God is using  more than one people for the accomplishment of His great and marvelous work. The Latter-day Saints cannot do it all. It is too vast, too arduous for any one people." (Orson F.Whitney)

10. "If we would be eminently successful, Jesus is our example." ~President Spencer W. Kimball

Many years ago I read Joseph Smith History, and then prayed for God to introduce me to His Son. I envied Joseph for his personal knowledge of Jesus Christ.

God is answering my prayer. The introduction is not physical. For me, it is through stories and poetry and adventurous human interactions. Matthew 5-7, the great keynote lecture of two nations (3 Nephi 12), shows me how to live and think. Eleven companions have provided a practical field for practicing Christlike attributes. Inquisitive investigators and antagonistic strangers have blessed me with books of inspired questions and spiritual truths.

When I boil it all down and sift through for an overarching conclusion, this is what I find:

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me;
Because the Lord hath anointed me
To preach good tidings unto the meek.
He hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to the captives,
And the opening of the prison to them that are bound.

...To comfort all that mourn;
...To give unto them beauty for ashes,
The oil of joy for mourning,
The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
(Isaiah 61)


* I barely scraped through college Stats, but it's something I aspire to!
** Name changed

Consolation

So you grieve. Your mission is over. It's natural to be sad.

But occasionally a thought crosses your mind about the life yet to come. It urges you to do the happy dance.

Like the moment that you realize that you can hold babies again!!!

Here is a direct quote from the accursed page 35 of the White Handbook:
As in all other relationships, never be alone with a child. Avoid any behavior that could be misunderstood or that could appear to be inappropriate, including tickling, changing diapers, holding children, and allowing children to sit on your lap. Never babysit children of any age.

These words have been a stab in the heart for 17 months.

And I will never, EVER, ever have to abide by them again, starting in less than two weeks.

Ladies and gentlemen, please consider my consolation:

Two handsome nephews, ready to dig with me.

Two adorable nieces, with one more on the way.

Family History on Campus

The Spirit of Elijah is alive and well on the OCCC campus! Triple the referrals!