Changing My Life…

So, before I mentioned about wanting to talk about how I joined the church and my baptism.  I guess I will just get to it…

So, in 1992, after graduation, I was living in an apartment with a friend.  She was slightly older and had friends that liked to drink, etc… But the parties she had weren’t terrible, but they happened.  I didn’t have much to do with them, as they were mostly her friends, but I knew them and would hang out as well.

I was working and trying to learn how to do the “adulting” thing.  I was extremely depressed, but really didn’t understand why.  I had a great family, I knew they loved me.  My friends were awesome. I had work and money to pay for things, but I was miserable. I felt alone and really hated myself. Why? I have no answer.

Because I felt I was at a point that I couldn’t understand and didn’t care to figure out, I planned on committing suicide. Wow! I know right! I just wanted to pain to end and I didn’t know how to reach out to anyone.  I went along in life every day, acting as if I were ok. But I really just wanted to die.

I planned the whole thing, the day, time, where, and how…

Then, my roommate had a party 3 days before “the day”.  I was there, I drank some, but have never been drunk. I watched everyone else get wasted….it was awful. The next morning when I got up, a few people had crashed on the floor, bodies were haphazardly laying throughout the place. I didn’t care. I was pretty numb most of the time.

Just about 30 minutes after I woke, I heard a knock on the door.  I went up to answer it (a short flight of stairs to the door); I was barely dressed.

At the top were two missionaries from the “Mormon” church.  Oh brother! I was not interested at all. I told them so and went to shut the door.  One of them slid his big foot in the door and said “Wait! I can’t leave until I share a message that will save your life.”

What?! I hadn’t told a single soul what my plans were. How could he know? What did he know? I was shocked.  I politely told them I wasn’t interested, but they asked to come in to share “a message”. I told them they had five minutes and smiled inside knowing we had people passed out everywhere. ( I am embarrassed now.)

As they entered, I seen a slight bit of hesitation, but they acted like it was second nature to walk into a house filled with hung over young adults.  I just showed them to a nearby beanbag that miraculously happened to be empty. They shared it to my amusement.  I sat barely dressed in front of them.

As I began to listen to what they were sharing, I had an overwhelming feeling wash over me. As the same guy with the big foot told me that God loved me, I felt very emotional and nervous. I wanted to know more, but I really didn’t want to admit it.

After an hour, they were getting ready to leave.  I loved what they were telling me and I felt a small smidgen of hope inside.  They asked to come back and I told them I didn’t want them to.  In my mind, I was still going through with “my plan”.

After they left, I woke my friend, we asked everyone to leave and that afternoon I cleaned the apartment.  I also dumped all the alcohol, for which I ended up getting yelled at severely for. But for the first time,  I cared about something.

Three days came and went. I went on as if my life was my own again and I felt less depressed.  My mind wandered to what the missionaries had said over and over. So, I just lived.

About two weeks later, the missionaries returned. When I opened the door, I said “I thought I told you not to come back.”

The big-toed Missionary smiled and stated, “Yeah, but you didn’t mean it.” I let them in.

Over the next couple weeks, I started taking lessons about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. The missionaries (or Elders) came often to teach me.  I enjoyed what I was learning and after the third lesson was over, I call my mom and told her what I was doing.

I was trying to explain who they were and she told me that I was already a member, but wasn’t baptized yet. She also said that my younger brother and sister were also learning about the church. I cancelled my next discussion and went to their house when the missionaries were about to start the fourth lesson with them. We finished all the lessons together and decided to get baptized on May 24, 1992….

Return soon for Part 2 of Changing My Life, things are just getting interesting…lol

Thanks for reading, Love, Heather

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