My earliest memory of feeling the Spirit was when I was a little girl. We lived in Nibley, Utah. I was asked to speak in a large meeting. As I stood at the pulpit and looked out over the congregation I felt something I had never felt before. I could see the gentle face of my Mother looking up at me. Her face gave me the courage I needed to go on. It was right after I got baptized and I'm sure my talk was on baptism and what it meant to me to receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. I do not remember what I said, but I remember how I felt.
It was one of those feelings that stays forever. One of those feelings that you can't deny.
I don't think I understood what I felt at that time. In fact so often the feelings we receive can sometimes be waved away as 'fear'. But I have been afraid before and the feeling is different. Fear makes me feel unsafe. The spirit that I felt that day made me feel safe. I felt encircled by warmth.
The next time I felt the Spirit was in Sunday School. I must have been a Freshman in High School.
We lived in Florence, Arizona at the time and our meetinghouse was a little white house that was turned into a church. I do not know who my Sunday School teacher was. I prided myself on being the class clown and rarely paid attention to the lesson, but this one Sunday changed me. As he taught I began my routine of asking stupid questions. As he answered my questions it was like a light switch was turned on inside of me. I really wanted to learn! I will NEVER forget how I felt that day. It was the same feeling I got before...I felt safe, encircled by warmth.
Not long after I started paying attention in Sunday school I was sitting in a Testimony meeting. As I listened to other people bear their testimonies I felt that feeling again. One moment I was sitting in my chair and the next moment I was standing, all eyes were on me, I bore my testimony for the very first time. Of course I don't remember what I said, but I will never forget how I felt.
Probably the next time I felt that spirit was after I finished reading The Book of Mormon for the first time. We lived in Jerome, Idaho. Ben was on his mission and because I missed him so much I decided I would teach myself the gospel so I could experience just a little of what he was experiencing on his mission. I read the entire Book of Mormon for the first time. I felt like I really didn't need to ask Heavenly Father if it was true because I already believed that it was, but I didn't want to rob myself of the experience of receiving conformation from Heavenly Father of the truthfulness of the book. So I took the Moroni's challenge and asked Heavenly Father if the book was true, if it really was an ancient book that was translated by Joseph Smith. I received the same unmistakable confirmation from the spirit.
As I matured so did the feelings that I received from the Holy Ghost. The once small feelings began to grow, to burn into my soul. Soon my testimony was written on the fleshy tables of my heart. There was no turning back, there was only moving forward. I knew, and Heavenly Father knew that I knew and I couldn't deny it.
Over the years I have received so many confirmations from the spirit that it would be impossible to count them all.
My conversion story is not like a light coming on in a dark room.
My story is like a sunrise. Before the sun peeks over the horizon there is a calm. A peace that you can almost reach out and touch. As the seconds and minutes tick away, ever so slowly the sun begins to light up the night sky. The rays reach out and pierce the darkness. The shadows begin to fade away and things that were once difficult to see are brought into the light. The sun soon forces the darkness to leave. Fear is gone, it is replaced by Peace.We all have a conversion story. Not two stories are the same. It is so important to figure out how God speaks to us. He speaks to each of us differently. I am grateful that at a young age I had a desire to know how He speaks to me.
