Undercover testimony

Blogging isn't really my thing. I started this blog because I knew, being an aspiring writer, that I 'should.' Because that's what writers do. It's a way to network. But even after almost two years, I don't love it.

Sometimes I wonder if I have anything worthwhile to say.

I worry that the time I spend blogging (which isn't much compared to some folks) is wasteful.

I worry that no one will read it, or that no one cares.

I worry that I'll say the wrong thing.

Today in conference, President Uchtdorf said that we should blog, and text our testimony. I know they put out a statement a few months ago stating that we should share our testimony through our blogs and through Facebook. That's when I wrote the post I Am Mormon, Hear Me Whisper.

But it was rejuvenating to hear the words spoken from an apostles mouth. I haven't talked about my faith on my blog in a long while. And I realize I haven't shared with you how I came to have a testimony.

As was stated by Pres. Uchtdorf in conference, my testimony wasn't like Paul, or Alma the Younger, or Joseph Smith. I didn't have an angel appear to me, or see God and Jesus Christ. Mine is like the puzzle he spoke of, fitted together one piece at a time, until I could see the whole picture.

But that doesn't mean I don't remember each and every jigsaw piece. I do. And I continue to understand each time a new piece locks into place. It's like a tiny little A-ha moment that I didn't see coming, and suddenly the picture is a little more clear.

I worried a lot about feeling the Holy Ghost when I was a kid/teenager. I worried that I wasn't capable of feeling it, because up until that point I didn't think I had.

Now, I laugh at that because I know what the Spirit feels like, and the more I feel it the easier it is to recognize His presence. And, looking back, I know I felt it often.

But back then, I thought something was wrong with me.

Here's what I didn't understand. Gaining a testimony isn't some huge moment that knocks you over and changes your life forever. Not usually, anyway. Not for me.

It's line upon line, precept upon precept.

I was sneaky when I was a kid, in a very good way. My mom was a seminary teacher (this is a class most LDS kids take in High school. They get up an hour earlier than the other kids in their school and go sit in a religion class every school day. It's awesome!) for nine years, I think. This, like all the callings in our church, was a voluntary assignment. She had to prepare the class everyday, and then teach it the next morning. I've had this calling too, and it is very demanding, yet very rewarding. I remember one year when her box of materials arrived. We sliced it open and checked out the contents. There was a new video series (I can't for the life of me remember what it was called. They were the ones that were taken like slides, but it was a video. The kids in the video lived in Box Elder--I remember that much). I was so excited. Things were different then. There were no movies like The Best Two Years, or Testaments or anything like that. We had a few videos like Families are Forever, and Labor of Love. But to hold in my hand an entire collection of videos for teenagers was like finding a chunk of gold.

And then my mom told me that I couldn't watch them. I was devastated. I think I was probably twelve at the time, and seminary didn't start, for me, for two more years. Uno, Dos and Tres got to watch them, but not me. The church wanted the younger kids not to see them so that they would be able to appreciate them when their turn came in seminary.

I knew all of that, but it was too much temptation. I would sneak upstairs and pop them in when no one was watching. And I felt the spirit. Not because I was being sneaky, but because of the videos. I craved anything like that.

Looking back, I realize that yearning was the Spirit encouraging me to seek after truth and testifying when I found it. I felt the Spirit. I felt it all the time, I just didn't know it. Looking back I can pinpoint times I felt the truth.

When I would watch church videos put out by the church. Curled up reading any and every Jack Weyland novel, or The New Era. Listening to Bounce Back, a motivational tape. (Does anyone else remember this?), when I sang in church, when I bore my tiny sliver of a testimony at Girl's camp. When my mom would sit with me and bear her testimony to me, or try to counsel me. She didn't think I was listening or watching, but I was. Every single word, every single action.

That was just when I was growing up. The list continued and continues still, each time another piece dropping into its spot.

I wait for those tiny moments. I wait to feel that peace and joy. To know that my Heavenly Father listens and loves me, and that He hears me when I pray. That He has a plan for me and my family. That Jesus is my brother and He is very actively rooting me on and giving me opportunities to grow and change and help others.

I still remember sitting in front of the t.v. watching those videos I shouldn't be watching, and I smile.

I was hungering and thirsting after righteousness.

I still do.

I know I always will.