My Spiritual Journey
If you don’t know I’m a convert to
the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I was baptized in 2003. I was
introduced to the Church via my mother, who had accepted to listen to the missionary
listens. Her place of employment allowed lunch time Bible studies. This
interested my mother. Well during the studies the one individual who could consistently
give an answer was a Bishop of the Church. Eventually, he said, “Well I’ve got
two young friends who can teach you everything.” She accepted the offer by inviting
the missionaries over, who came escorted by the coworker.
I ended up listening to lessons as well
and following along with each lesson. It was interesting. Unbeknownst to
anyone, as I had not talked about it, I too was in the middle of spiritual
quest. As a freshman in high school I came across many different cliques. It
was strange seeing all my friends from middle school suddenly acting different.
I remained friends with one but ended up associating with some different kids.
While it was fun playing Yu-Gi-Oh on lunch, a lot of the kids I knew were doing
different things. “This is high school know, things are different.”
Studying Religions
I was wondering was this briefed somewhere,
was there something my mom was supposed to tell me? The English teacher who
smelt like coffee, and hard liquor, liked to send us to go to the library for
out assignments. That’s when I started browsing the library for books and found
myself often picking up various books. I found one book, The Tao of Pooh (Hoffman,
1982). Attending Taekwondo on the weekends at my father’s house, Taoism was
something that seemed to fit with me in a unique way. I started to think about
the deeper questions and meaning of life at this time. I read through various
books on all sorts of religions, from Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism,
Shintoism, Paganism, etc.
At the time Harry Potter was the
rage, and witchcraft interested me a lot. Turns out Wicca was making a comeback
through this high school. We started testing certain spells, and magics outs,
as we felt the need to protect ourselves from the older classmates. Majority of
the time the spells, were mostly in our heads. That’s when I started having vivid
dreams, which confirmed that there was something to this Wiccan thought. This
was all kept secret from my mother, I’m not sure why, but I just didn’t discuss
somethings with her. I recall one time she asked what I was doing outside, and
said, “I’m meditating to feel the souls of those who died or are in pain.”
Wicca
She was a little shocked to hear
that, but as I can recall nothing came of it. Now returning previously to the
missionary lessons. This coincides slightly around the same time, and yes, I
was following the lessons, and doing wiccan practices at school. I wouldn’t say
living a double life, as my reasoning at the time was it was acceptable. We
then connected with a pair of Elders, one was a Hawaiian, and the other was from
Utah. They were so excited to come and teach us the lessons. I recall reading
some of the Book of Mormon at the time. Not much, as I had other books I was
reading.
While my mother recalls it
differently, I vividly remember being asked to be baptized to which I said, “No!”
What followed was another very strong, and vivid dream so real, that it
terrified me. Basically, I had dreamed of the world be cleansed by this ever-consuming
fire that torched everything, leaving things completely blackened or glowing
after; the whole “world” was ablaze by this purifying fire. I felt that it was
sign that the Book of Mormon, and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day
Saints was legitimate in a sense of the word respective to me at that time.
Poor Choices
Eventually, after some very poor
choices on my part, my participation in Wiccan worship was apparent. While I
had not stated I followed a God, I had followed an individual spirit totem. My
actions were all blamed on my participation in wicca. It was also a mixture of
influence from kids who wore buttoned up shirts with dragons and flames. Out of
necessity I stopped the practices I was doing and gave over to the new religion
I had been baptized into. The ritualism of the faith was compelling, passing sacrament,
hanging out with the deacons and teacher quorums was fulfilling.
I started going to early morning
seminary, which was a huge sacrifice to my mother. We lived 30 minutes away
from school, and that meant having to get up around 4:50 am every day to get to
the Ward building for seminary classes. Other changes were to our Sunday activities,
no more shopping, and movie theater time. We spent it at home doing righteous
activities. Movies were off limits unless it were from Living Scripture. Occasionally
we watched something that our home teacher brought over. Most of the time I
spent Sundays reading Harry Potter, and napping in the summer.
Moving to Utah
Fast forwarding, we had to move to
Utah, as my mother was wanting a change. It seemed good to us all. As brother
was having problems at his school, and at the time I was being bullied more
frequently (I’ll discuss this in another post later). I settled into life as a member
of the Church in Utah. School was vastly different environment from where I
left. I liked that seminary classes could be done as voluntary hour from school
class time. I fell in with some new friends and was going along in the ritual
of thing in Utah. Soon I was a Priest blessing and passing the sacrament. While
I had not been very spiritual, I had experienced some strong feelings, ideas,
and revelations.
I was in a ward where most of the
families were just beginning to start their families. I was one of three Priests,
and often the only Priest that kept in attendance. I recall many Sundays giving
the blessing of both sacraments. That was pretty much it, I was living the
ritualism. Going through the motions, occasionally experiencing things here and
there. I was more involved with my experience in high school then I was with my
“faith.” Seminary was a highlight my last two year in high school. The
instructor was an amazing priesthood holder and was also a bishop at one of the
many nearby mega-wards.
Graduation
After high school I was lost on
what I was going to do with myself. I didn’t do well in school; I think a 2.5
gpa if that. Senior year I took a concurrent enrollment which I passed but didn’t
not earn a high enough grade to be give college credit. Which to my family
meant that they wouldn’t support or pay for me to go to school. I don’t blame
them school is expensive. After graduation I worked as a minimum wage earner at
various jobs for the next several years. I watched my classmates, and friend
all go on to their dreams. Here I was living at home working at a fast-food chain.
One very good friend came back from
Marine Corps. Basic training and had me in the recruiter’s office that very
week. The recruiter almost got me to sign up, after putting on the Class A coat
I could see myself as a Marine. In that office though I said I need to talk it
over with my family. The recruiter hassled me for saying that, saying “I don’t ask
my mom for permission to [swear word] my wife, a real man would join the US
Marine Corps.” As I didn’t have a car, and road a single speed bicycle
everywhere; yes, for a time I wanted to live in California as bicycle
messenger. I road to the train in station in Jordan to catch a ride back up
near Salt Lake City.
Hebrew 13:12
On this
train this individual who was clearly homeless started a conversation with me.
I don’t recall exactly how he initiated the conversation. I just recall what he
said, “You cannot yet be a Marine, as you have yet to serve your God!” I
immediately was confused; how did he know I wanted to be a Marine. I looked
myself up and down, thinking I must have left something on my person from the recruiter’s
office. Nope, there was not a single article that this man could have inferred that
is where I came from, or that that’s where I was going. When I got on the train,
I made my mind up to tell my mom, “I’m tired of not doing something, I want to
become a Marine. My best friend has changed for the good, and look he has a job
that isn’t infantryman.”
“I said you
can’t be a Marine yet because you have yet to serve Him.” I was speechless
still at the situation. I didn’t know what to say. At the time the missionary
service just wasn’t anything at all what I wanted to do. (I don’t recall all of
what he said, but what I do remember is that he said things that no one could
have known. I wasn’t really talking with people about my thoughts and was just
going through the motions. This individual was reading my mind like an open
book). Memory is very faulty, perception based, prone to falsehoods etc. (Dolsten,
2016). With that understanding, I don’t recall having ever mentioned my name to
this homeless mind reader. He than says to me, “Logan you are to serve a
mission, hear your Lord and know his will.” He then quoted to me the following
scripture:
“And now, O my son, ye are called
of God to preach the word unto this people. And now, my son, go thy way,
declare the word with truth and soberness, that thou mayest bring souls unto
repentance, that the great plan of mercy may have claim upon them. And may God
grant unto you even according to my words. Amen” (Alma 42:31).
Then at a
stop he got off, and I never saw him again. I don’t even remember him getting
off, I was a little bit shocked. I got off that train that day, and when I got
home informed my mother my desire to serve a mission. I went through the process
of application and waiting on the mission call. In the meantime, I was very
excited about serving a mission, and freely told people of my desire. Which
often I was told I would be an amazing missionary, or that I would serve a foreign
mission, only the best serves a foreign mission, etc.
Mission Call
When I finally got my mission call, I was excited to read it
aloud to my family. My non-member grandparents were calling in on speaker to
hear where I was going. My grandmother had a dream of me speaking Dutch, which
is the native language of my great grandmother. Also had some people feeling that
I would be in Brussels, speaking several languages. Afterall I took German for
3 years in high school. It would make so much sense to be called to Europe. I
then flipped open the mission call and read aloud that I was to serve a mission
in the Southern US.
My
disappointment was so apparent, my feelings were so confused mixed with
disappointment, that my grandparents quickly ended the call. Everyone gave me
space to deal with the news. I wasn’t going to some far-off place; I wasn’t going
to learn a language. I was going to the Bible belt. It was hard for me to get
this idea around my head of serving a mission. I started to doubt that
messenger on the train, who knew everything about me. Was I really called to
serve? I started to question if I had truly repented of my past sins. Was that
just synchronistic event on a train that some how a random homeless man on
drugs guessed things about me?
Dog Fight
That same year getting a call to a
mission, I had yet to leave as my date wasn’t until August. One day our dog got
out of the house. Immediately, greeted another dog on a chain in a yard, and a
dog fight broke out. I was the only one dumb enough to step in, which lead to
me getting bit by the neighbor’s dog. I got the wound flushed, which caused my
hand to become severely infected. Overnight I went from being very disappointed
about where I was too serve, too I now have a $500 K hospital bill, months of physical
therapy, and 12 week treatment of to fight off the MRSA I got; as freebie on
this tribulation trail pack.
Not only was I wounded from the
mission call, but now I would have to spend every penny I earned paying off
this massive hospital bill. Since, I was 20 at the time I was no longer covered
by insurance plans. As a part time employee of a fast-food chain, I had no
benefits such as insurance. Then I found out that the physical therapy would be
another $5 K on top of the hospital bill. Tag along another $4 K consultation
bill, that the doctor whom I denied their services to decided to send my way. Thankfully,
that was thrown out as the primary doctor who performed my surgery told them to
withdraw the bill. As he was present when I denied her services.
What I could not see was all the
blessings along the way at the time. The urgent care flushed the bite wound,
but no one knew that it was infected. They didn’t put me on any antibiotic just
some pain medicine. After I woke up to a catcher glove sized hand, I went to
the ER. I had the choice of a hospital near the house at the time or go to the
larger hospital Intermountain Hospital. The ER doctor said that this was
abnormal, and that he asked if I would speak with his friend. His friend he met
at medical school, was a Hand and Foot Specialist. That day he wanted to catch
up with his ER friend for a lunch at the hospital and hadn’t left yet. Immediately
seeing the hand, he knew they had to work fast. They tried an antibiotic, but
the infection had gotten to deep.
I opted for surgery, and was in so
much pain I said, “Look I just want to not feel pain, cut the hand off if you
have too.” While I was being dramatic, this was the most painful moment in my
life. As someone who broke several bones this infection was now number one on
the pain list. Post-surgery was a very hard time, but I got through it. I had
gone to a very deep and dark place mentally. I felt as though I was abandoned
by God, and my natural man reviled against my situation. “How can I pay for
this,” “I can’t serve a mission now,” “I’ll spend my life paying this all off,”
etc. I didn’t know the scope of the actual bill but having worked in medical
billing for a short stint I knew it was going to be huge.
Most Spiritually Significant Moment
At the time I didn’t know this
would be my most spiritually significant moment of my life. I didn’t know how
things would turn out. I didn’t know that the Lord would reveal himself to me.
I will not speak in detail about this, but as I have alluded about this before.
It was spiritually significant to me and had left me with a knowledge of god so
sweet I can’t describe it adequately. Like Joseph Smith Junior, I will end up
with many different versions of this moment, such as he tried to describe with
human words the witnessing of the First Vision.
Remember Them No More
From the moment I woke from the surgery
I was in pain. Now I have this looming hospital bill that was finally revealed
in full to me. I couldn’t return to work, and I desperately wanted to. I made
my way to the clinic daily for IV’s to fight off the MRSA. I also went to two
free sessions of physical therapy. The post consultation with the surgeon, who
after hearing I couldn’t afford to do all the therapy, threatened me with more
surgery if I didn’t seriously focus on personal treatment. Around April that
year I get a phone call from the Hospital, because of my income bracket the
Hospital waived most of the bill.
I still had to pay the surgeon, anesthesiologist,
and wound clinic. The phrase, “remember them no more,” became very loud in my
inner thoughts. While God did not wipe all the bills away, he provided a means
for me too, and my family too. I had a very real lesson about spirituality,
faith, and the reality of our fallen world. I forgot that the God of Abraham,
Isaac, and Jacob, is a god of miracles (Mormon 9). I would be able to serve a
mission after all. I also felt the need to repent a little more thoroughly. I
would end up going that year to the MTC and served two-years. Even though at
time I wanted to quit and go home, but that is a blog for another day.
Bias
I was really wanting to write about
something else, but I couldn’t type anything. I then started typing this out. This
can serve as telling of my testimony, as well lay out some of biases. I do believe
in a divine creator; synchronicity is just a word to disguise miracles for what
they really are. While at times I do struggle with tenets of my faith, I do
have a very strong connection with the divine. If you read a previous blog, Personal
Manifestation and Guarding Against Falling Away, then this is a lot of what
I left out. Also if you see me support a some ideas of socialized healthcare
then you also see why, as someone who had $500 K looming overhead, I know this
is an everyday reality for many Americans, and even others around the world.
References
Dolsten. J.
(2016, July 4). Three reasons not to trust your memory. Psychology Today.
https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/articles/201605/three-reasons-not-trust-your-memory
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