In a recent post, I talked about my first exposure to the Church, which led me to yearn to believe in something. At the time, I didn’t really know what I wanted to believe—just that I wanted to believe in something. I realized that though I grew up in a Catholic home, I really didn’t even know what Catholics believed, much less what I believed.
Now, in the interest of disclosure, I must interrupt this tale to tell you that the roommate’s boyfriend who introduced me to the Church, is now my husband, Mirko, of 18 years. How this came to be is also a very interesting story, but for another time.
So there I was, wondering what I should believe in, interacting daily with someone who was firm in what he believed. I was so drawn to his faith. I wanted what he had. But it is amazing, looking back now, that it did not cross my mind at the time that I might want to believe in the same things that he believed in. I figured he could help me figure out what I believed in, though I did not expect that I would end up believing in the same things. I especially did not expect or want in any way to join any church. That was one thing I did know for sure.
I really wanted very early on for Mirko to invite me to something involving his church. I expressed as much interest as I dared without risking being impolite or nosey. Meanwhile, Mirko was trying very hard not to be pushy. It seemed like an eternity to me, but when he finally invited me to meet with the missionaries, we had known each other for only two weeks. I enthusiastically accepted the invitation, looking forward to their assistance in figuring out what I believed. I still did not get that they were there to teach me about what they believed.
So the day finally came for the first discussion. I was very surprised that they were my age—and a little put off by it. After all, I had heard them called Elders, so weren’t they supposed to be Elderly? At any rate, I got over that quickly enough. We started the discussion, and it became quickly clear that they had a very different agenda than I did. They started talking about subjects that were completely foreign to me, such as prophets and books of scripture. Honestly, I really did not care about these things. I am not sure what I expected, but these topics were definitely not it. Then, as I was barely keeping my patience about me, they asked me if I would be baptized! I was highly offended, and told them most certainly not. When they left, I completely intended not to invite them back.
Mirko spent the next couple of hours calming me down, though I do not now remember the content of our conversation. The result was, though, that we did invite the missionaries back, with the understanding that they would not pressure me into being baptized.
To be continued…
What obstacles did you need to overcome in order to listen to the gospel message? How did God work in your life to prepare you for it?