First off I should say that this is a work in progress. I would love any feeedback that you have, preferably in person next time we meet. The purpose of this blog is to express how I have gained faith through the years and perhaps to help yours grow too.
I grew up as the oldest of 5 children in a home that was fairly mobile. In fact, I think we moved like 6 or 7 times in 10 years. Finally we kinda settled in at St George, UT. At the time this was still a small town and I made some good friends there. Both my parents were active in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, often called the Mormon church. At age 10 they divorced. That put a big change in the family and the faith. Eventually my mom moved back to St Louis with my four younger siblings and I decided to stay with my dad there in St George.
Living in St George with my dad, a pilot, created a bit of independence for me. He was often gone for days at time and I would have to fix my own meals and get myself to school. I was in 5th and 6th grade at that time. I think these years had an impact in the future both positive and negative. Positive in creating a courage to face things independently but negative in that I also began to shut down feelings and fears as a protective mechanism. This may be part of the reason my wife compares me at times to Spock on star trek, you know the one with very little human emotion?
Anyway, during this time we would typically go to church and I participated in some of the activities, but Im not sure I had much of a testimony. I know I did become a deacon at age 12 and a teacher at 14, but I don't think that I read the scriptures on my own and I dont remember praying all that much. I was more interested in dirt bikes and my few friends I had there in St. George.
When my dad took a new job in Saudia Arabia, I had to move back with my mom in St. Louis. Overall, Im glad this happened as it forced me to leave a bit of my comfort zone and face a new place. I moved to Belleville, IL to live with my mom, my 4 siblings, my very nice step father and his two sons. It was the second week of school of my freshman year, in a 4 year high school of over 2,000 students. Needless to say a little different from what I was used to. Sharing a room and really everything at home forced me to be a little less selfish, although there were growing pains. Being in a new school forced me to make new friends.
I did make good friends, most of which were in the marching band. Yes, I was a band geek. I really enjoyed playing my saxophone. These friends helped me a lot in a time of fear and trepidation in a new place. They also found out that I was LDS and they respected that a lot. I had never really interacted with anyone that wasnt of my faith until that time but I knew that Mormons were different from other faiths. They were OK with my being a little different and even encouraged me to not drink alcohol or do drugs, all of which was readily flowing in the halls of Belleville West. So, kinda living up to expectations, I didnt get into much trouble in high school. I think this was a tender mercy from above, as I didnt have any strong feelings about religion at the time and would have considered doing bad stuff, but my friends didnt really think that I should and they sort of protected me.
At home, my mom had pretty much left the LDS church for many reasons, for none of which I could ever blame her. She was a convert herself, had met my dad at BYU and immediately starting having children. My father tried his best, but was not a righteous husband and father to us growing up, again probably not so much his fault, but those are other stories. The divorce, moving back to her hometown where she grew up catholic, and now remarried to a very good catholic man, she had lost some of her testimony of the Mormon church. She did however, encourage us to continue going to church and seminary. She would often take us Williams kids to church on Sundays, usually just staying for sacrament, and then leave, grabbing some dunkin donuts on the way home. It was probably a way to bribe us to go. We had hometeachers (two men that would come to our house monthly and share a gospel centered message) and I had young mens leaders that cared for us. Looking back now, I probably underestimate the role they played in my life and I am thankful to them for sticking with us even though we showed little interest. I think I was ordained a priest at some point during my sixteenth year, but I dont remember much about it or who did it. I do remember blessing the sacrament a couple times though.
One of the miracles during my high school years was my attending seminary. I still to this day do not know what possessed me to get up at 5:00 AM a few times a week to go to seminary. I would often go with my sister Nicole, who was two years my younger. I think I started going my junior year and my attendance was spotty. My sweet seminary teacher, sister Sheila Stocker, was very kind, patient and had the spirit. They only lived a few miles from our house. It was through those early mornings that I began to feel a little something toward Jesus and the scriptures. It wasnt much, but it was something. It was the seed that began to grow.
My senior year of high school brought me to contemplate my future plans. I was a state level swimmer, I was first chair saxophone in the jazz band and my grades put me in the top 10% of my class of over 500 people. Test scores were good, but I dont remember them being at the top. Regardless, I could pretty much go anywhere to college I wanted. Or rather I could be accepted anywhere. What I could afford was another matter. It was clear that any post HS schooling would be paid for through loans that I would be responsible for. When I narrowed down my school choices and applied, Im not sure why I included BYU. I was more excited about the Univ of Chicago (mostly for their science programs), and Univ of Miami (mostly for their jazz program and swimming). When the financial parts came in, and the offers for some scholarship money, it was clear that only one would make sense. Univ of Chicago, 17,000 per year, Univ of Miami, 25,000 per year (after scholarships- haha), BYU like 1,500. BYU had a good music program and a good swim team. My dad had sinced moved back to Bountiful, Utah so I had a little family support back there. So, off to BYU I went. That decision played a monumental role in my development of faith.
As a freshman I walked on to the swim team, but I wasnt really that fast and it was more I was middle of the pack. I was accepted to the music performance program and was playing my saxophone quite a bit. I made first chair sax in the lower jazz band. I was working at the Mission training center as a diswasher and taking like 15 credit hours. Sound like too much. It was. Something had to go. So I dropped swimming. I wasnt going to be an olympian, and I kinda doubted my chances at getting a scholarship next year. They just didnt have a lot to give out. Then I kinda got tired of playing saxophone so much and started to wonder about that as a career. I did enjoy science though and took a higher level biology course my second semester. It was in that second semester that I gained a testimony of the Book of Mormon.
At BYU each student is required to take a religion class each semester. Just about all the freshman took Book of Mormon, which is split into two parts. So, trying to fit in, I took BOM 1 the first semester and BOM 2 the second. Meanwhile, my second semester I moved in with a buddy of mine, Kevin Rees. My first semester I lived in the dorms there at BYU, but I had my own little corner room and kinda kept to myself, besides I was too busy to even see anybody. Second semester was different. I had a little more time since I was no longer swimming twice a day. I moved in with my buddy Kevin. This was another of those tender mercies.
Kevin was from Washington DC and had grown up strong in the LDS church. I can remember coming in to the room at times and finding him kneeling at his bedside praying. I dont remember ever seeing someone do that prior and it struck me. He was kind and just an overall good person. I looked up to him. His example instilled in me the desire to find out if this whole Mormon thing was legit. In our Book of Mormon class we had been challenged to read daily and pray if the Book of Mormon was true. Our teacher had assured us that doing so, in faith, and with a true desire to know, that we would be given an answer. It was time to put that to the test. If the Book of Mormon was true, then the church was true, and that changed everything.
I began to earnestly read daily. I began to earnestly pray daily. Weeks went by, months even. No answer. I was getting a little inpatient, but I figured I had until the end of the semester anyway, so why rush it. I think it was at that point that the Lord may have said to himself, OK, give him a bit of a shot of the Holy Ghost. I can remember praying one night and pleading to know if the Book of Mormon was true. While praying a thought came to my mind, "Look at how you have changed since starting a sincere study of the book, doesn't this mean that its true?" My mind reflected on how I had changed, for the better. I had become more spiritual, thinking more outside myself and I had liked the change. I began to feel and accept the truth of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. I felt a desire to better align myself with His will. I repented and confessed. I got my patriarchial blessing (a special blessing that is kind of like a personal revelation, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patriarchal_blessing).
As I continued to do the things that were in accord with God's will, I came to more fully believe in the Mormon church. In fact, I felt strongly enough that I wanted to go out and teach others about it. I decided to serve a full time LDS mission. Just one problem, you have to pay for it yourself. My parents offered to help a little, and I think my uncle Brent offered to help pay too, but there was still a chunk that I would have to come up with on my own. Then my buddy, Jake Ball, came to me and said, "I think I found a great summer job where you can make a ton of money, we should go interview for it."
That "great job" ended up being selling books and other educational materials door-to-door in Kentucky for the Southwestern company. Actually, it was a great job and I did it for 5 more summers after my mission. It prepared me a little more to be a good missionary, to talk to strangers and to work hard even when you don't want to. Ironically, my dad had done the same thing almost 25 years prior for the same company although he had never mentioned it to me. Through that job and by working for a few months back in St Louis I was able to save enough to pay for my mission and pay off some of my student loans from my freshman year of college.
Living in St Louis just prior to my mission was another great opportunity for me to strengthen my testimony of the Mormon church. Many of my family members and friends didnt really understand what being a Mormon missionary was and often inquired as to the purpose and why I was going. I gave out Book of Mormons and shared my testimony. Im not sure if any of them took me up on my invitation to read. Soon I recieved my calling and assignment. I was to serve in Barranquilla Colombia for 24 months, starting in Nov 1995.
Before you leave on a Mormon mission you get to attend a Mormon temple and receive your endowment (http://www.ldschurchtemples.com/mormon/endowment/). This was a special day, and one that reflected the importance of several people during my high school years. As neither of my parents were active in the Mormon church at that time, I was accompanied by my seminary teacher and her husband, my previous home teachers and my former young mens leader. We drove from Belleville up to Chicago, about 4 hours or so to attend the Chicago temple. It was a special experience and one that I will forever be grateful. I have tried since then to always stay worthy of going to the temple by trying to be honest, kind and a follower of Jesus. Of course I fail at times, as we all do. This life was meant for falling. But I believe it was also meant for getting back up and trying again. And trying again is something Ive had lots of practice doing.
I grew up as the oldest of 5 children in a home that was fairly mobile. In fact, I think we moved like 6 or 7 times in 10 years. Finally we kinda settled in at St George, UT. At the time this was still a small town and I made some good friends there. Both my parents were active in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, often called the Mormon church. At age 10 they divorced. That put a big change in the family and the faith. Eventually my mom moved back to St Louis with my four younger siblings and I decided to stay with my dad there in St George.
Living in St George with my dad, a pilot, created a bit of independence for me. He was often gone for days at time and I would have to fix my own meals and get myself to school. I was in 5th and 6th grade at that time. I think these years had an impact in the future both positive and negative. Positive in creating a courage to face things independently but negative in that I also began to shut down feelings and fears as a protective mechanism. This may be part of the reason my wife compares me at times to Spock on star trek, you know the one with very little human emotion?
Anyway, during this time we would typically go to church and I participated in some of the activities, but Im not sure I had much of a testimony. I know I did become a deacon at age 12 and a teacher at 14, but I don't think that I read the scriptures on my own and I dont remember praying all that much. I was more interested in dirt bikes and my few friends I had there in St. George.
When my dad took a new job in Saudia Arabia, I had to move back with my mom in St. Louis. Overall, Im glad this happened as it forced me to leave a bit of my comfort zone and face a new place. I moved to Belleville, IL to live with my mom, my 4 siblings, my very nice step father and his two sons. It was the second week of school of my freshman year, in a 4 year high school of over 2,000 students. Needless to say a little different from what I was used to. Sharing a room and really everything at home forced me to be a little less selfish, although there were growing pains. Being in a new school forced me to make new friends.
I did make good friends, most of which were in the marching band. Yes, I was a band geek. I really enjoyed playing my saxophone. These friends helped me a lot in a time of fear and trepidation in a new place. They also found out that I was LDS and they respected that a lot. I had never really interacted with anyone that wasnt of my faith until that time but I knew that Mormons were different from other faiths. They were OK with my being a little different and even encouraged me to not drink alcohol or do drugs, all of which was readily flowing in the halls of Belleville West. So, kinda living up to expectations, I didnt get into much trouble in high school. I think this was a tender mercy from above, as I didnt have any strong feelings about religion at the time and would have considered doing bad stuff, but my friends didnt really think that I should and they sort of protected me.
At home, my mom had pretty much left the LDS church for many reasons, for none of which I could ever blame her. She was a convert herself, had met my dad at BYU and immediately starting having children. My father tried his best, but was not a righteous husband and father to us growing up, again probably not so much his fault, but those are other stories. The divorce, moving back to her hometown where she grew up catholic, and now remarried to a very good catholic man, she had lost some of her testimony of the Mormon church. She did however, encourage us to continue going to church and seminary. She would often take us Williams kids to church on Sundays, usually just staying for sacrament, and then leave, grabbing some dunkin donuts on the way home. It was probably a way to bribe us to go. We had hometeachers (two men that would come to our house monthly and share a gospel centered message) and I had young mens leaders that cared for us. Looking back now, I probably underestimate the role they played in my life and I am thankful to them for sticking with us even though we showed little interest. I think I was ordained a priest at some point during my sixteenth year, but I dont remember much about it or who did it. I do remember blessing the sacrament a couple times though.
One of the miracles during my high school years was my attending seminary. I still to this day do not know what possessed me to get up at 5:00 AM a few times a week to go to seminary. I would often go with my sister Nicole, who was two years my younger. I think I started going my junior year and my attendance was spotty. My sweet seminary teacher, sister Sheila Stocker, was very kind, patient and had the spirit. They only lived a few miles from our house. It was through those early mornings that I began to feel a little something toward Jesus and the scriptures. It wasnt much, but it was something. It was the seed that began to grow.
My senior year of high school brought me to contemplate my future plans. I was a state level swimmer, I was first chair saxophone in the jazz band and my grades put me in the top 10% of my class of over 500 people. Test scores were good, but I dont remember them being at the top. Regardless, I could pretty much go anywhere to college I wanted. Or rather I could be accepted anywhere. What I could afford was another matter. It was clear that any post HS schooling would be paid for through loans that I would be responsible for. When I narrowed down my school choices and applied, Im not sure why I included BYU. I was more excited about the Univ of Chicago (mostly for their science programs), and Univ of Miami (mostly for their jazz program and swimming). When the financial parts came in, and the offers for some scholarship money, it was clear that only one would make sense. Univ of Chicago, 17,000 per year, Univ of Miami, 25,000 per year (after scholarships- haha), BYU like 1,500. BYU had a good music program and a good swim team. My dad had sinced moved back to Bountiful, Utah so I had a little family support back there. So, off to BYU I went. That decision played a monumental role in my development of faith.
As a freshman I walked on to the swim team, but I wasnt really that fast and it was more I was middle of the pack. I was accepted to the music performance program and was playing my saxophone quite a bit. I made first chair sax in the lower jazz band. I was working at the Mission training center as a diswasher and taking like 15 credit hours. Sound like too much. It was. Something had to go. So I dropped swimming. I wasnt going to be an olympian, and I kinda doubted my chances at getting a scholarship next year. They just didnt have a lot to give out. Then I kinda got tired of playing saxophone so much and started to wonder about that as a career. I did enjoy science though and took a higher level biology course my second semester. It was in that second semester that I gained a testimony of the Book of Mormon.
At BYU each student is required to take a religion class each semester. Just about all the freshman took Book of Mormon, which is split into two parts. So, trying to fit in, I took BOM 1 the first semester and BOM 2 the second. Meanwhile, my second semester I moved in with a buddy of mine, Kevin Rees. My first semester I lived in the dorms there at BYU, but I had my own little corner room and kinda kept to myself, besides I was too busy to even see anybody. Second semester was different. I had a little more time since I was no longer swimming twice a day. I moved in with my buddy Kevin. This was another of those tender mercies.
Kevin was from Washington DC and had grown up strong in the LDS church. I can remember coming in to the room at times and finding him kneeling at his bedside praying. I dont remember ever seeing someone do that prior and it struck me. He was kind and just an overall good person. I looked up to him. His example instilled in me the desire to find out if this whole Mormon thing was legit. In our Book of Mormon class we had been challenged to read daily and pray if the Book of Mormon was true. Our teacher had assured us that doing so, in faith, and with a true desire to know, that we would be given an answer. It was time to put that to the test. If the Book of Mormon was true, then the church was true, and that changed everything.
I began to earnestly read daily. I began to earnestly pray daily. Weeks went by, months even. No answer. I was getting a little inpatient, but I figured I had until the end of the semester anyway, so why rush it. I think it was at that point that the Lord may have said to himself, OK, give him a bit of a shot of the Holy Ghost. I can remember praying one night and pleading to know if the Book of Mormon was true. While praying a thought came to my mind, "Look at how you have changed since starting a sincere study of the book, doesn't this mean that its true?" My mind reflected on how I had changed, for the better. I had become more spiritual, thinking more outside myself and I had liked the change. I began to feel and accept the truth of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. I felt a desire to better align myself with His will. I repented and confessed. I got my patriarchial blessing (a special blessing that is kind of like a personal revelation, see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patriarchal_blessing).
As I continued to do the things that were in accord with God's will, I came to more fully believe in the Mormon church. In fact, I felt strongly enough that I wanted to go out and teach others about it. I decided to serve a full time LDS mission. Just one problem, you have to pay for it yourself. My parents offered to help a little, and I think my uncle Brent offered to help pay too, but there was still a chunk that I would have to come up with on my own. Then my buddy, Jake Ball, came to me and said, "I think I found a great summer job where you can make a ton of money, we should go interview for it."
That "great job" ended up being selling books and other educational materials door-to-door in Kentucky for the Southwestern company. Actually, it was a great job and I did it for 5 more summers after my mission. It prepared me a little more to be a good missionary, to talk to strangers and to work hard even when you don't want to. Ironically, my dad had done the same thing almost 25 years prior for the same company although he had never mentioned it to me. Through that job and by working for a few months back in St Louis I was able to save enough to pay for my mission and pay off some of my student loans from my freshman year of college.
Living in St Louis just prior to my mission was another great opportunity for me to strengthen my testimony of the Mormon church. Many of my family members and friends didnt really understand what being a Mormon missionary was and often inquired as to the purpose and why I was going. I gave out Book of Mormons and shared my testimony. Im not sure if any of them took me up on my invitation to read. Soon I recieved my calling and assignment. I was to serve in Barranquilla Colombia for 24 months, starting in Nov 1995.
Before you leave on a Mormon mission you get to attend a Mormon temple and receive your endowment (http://www.ldschurchtemples.com/mormon/endowment/). This was a special day, and one that reflected the importance of several people during my high school years. As neither of my parents were active in the Mormon church at that time, I was accompanied by my seminary teacher and her husband, my previous home teachers and my former young mens leader. We drove from Belleville up to Chicago, about 4 hours or so to attend the Chicago temple. It was a special experience and one that I will forever be grateful. I have tried since then to always stay worthy of going to the temple by trying to be honest, kind and a follower of Jesus. Of course I fail at times, as we all do. This life was meant for falling. But I believe it was also meant for getting back up and trying again. And trying again is something Ive had lots of practice doing.
