I was asked by realwriter to elaborate on my testimony for a book he is writing. I apologize for the lateness of my entry, but here it is. I hope it helps you with your book

 My testimony of the Savior started when I was a boy, about 16 yrs old. I heard others talk about how they new that Jesus atoned for our sins, and that they knew Joseph Smith restored the true gospel of Christ on the earth. I heard testimony about the power of the priesthood, and God’s love for us. I listened as people told me that they had a testimony of the power and guidance of the scriptures. I had not experienced any of those things myself, so I was left with questions, wondering how they knew those things for sure. I went to church, attended seminary, and all the youth activities. I just wasn’t truly convinced. I knew that there was a God, that was never doubted, but I just didn’t know about all the rest of it.

            James 1:5 says, “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.” Joseph Smith said about this verse, “Never did any passage of scripture come with more power to the heart of man than this did at this time to mine. It seemed to enter with great force into every feeling of my heart.” I thought about that and decided that if I wanted to know for sure I would have to ask God for the answer. There was no man that could tell me what I wanted to know, at least none that would give me the knowledge that I was looking for. I was looking for the knowledge of the truth. Not just the truth, but to know that it was the truth. How does one find such knowledge from a mere mortal, only God could offer that knowledge to me. I dove into prayer, scripture study, fasting, and pondering. I spent many of my lunch periods my sophomore year studying scriptures in the library. I also had a heavy guilt of my own sin weighing on me. I wanted to know if the atonement would truly wash me clean. I did not look for a specific answer, I only sought the truth. I wanted to know for myself if the things others testified of so often were true, and if it was how I could be sure, how could I know?

            One night after about six months of searching, while I was dedicated in prayer, I received my answer. I was touched with the most electrifying feeling. My whole body was enveloped with a sense of understanding that magnified itself in the feeling of exhilaration. I could barley contain my excitement. My Grandparents were asleep and I did not want to wake them, but I had to let it out. Instead of yelling out my new found understanding, I wrote it on paper. I used an entire note pad and posted the pages all over my room. I wrote things like, God loves me; Jesus is my Savior and Redeemer; I am forgiven!; I know the truth; Joseph Smith was truly a prophet of God; and many other things. I danced around my room for hours with tears streaming down my cheeks, and barley got any sleep that night. It was just a still small voice that whispered to me, but it resounded within me with such force that it shook me to my core. I was prepared to hear the message; I was an empty vessel ready to be filled.

            That was not the last time that I would receive such a powerful witness of God’s love and devotion. That same year, during another evening prayer, I was moved to action. I lived with my maternal grandparents. My father and his mother were alcoholics and lived in the same town I lived in for the first time since I was very young, yet I did not see them much because of their lifestyle. I prayed for them daily and that particular evening was no exception. As I began to pray for my grandmother while on my knees, I was over come. I could not speak a word, and the only thought I had was to call my grandmother. As I gave into that thought I was able then to speak, and said aloud to Heavenly Father, “I will call her as soon as I finish my prayer.” Once again and instantly, I could not utter a word and the only thought I had was to call my grandmother now. Again I gave into that thought and could speak, and as I rose from my knees I felt a sense of urgency that was compelling. I could not walk; I ran up stairs and grabbed the phone breathlessly. When my grandmother answered the phone she said emphatically, “Thank God you called, hold on just a minute!” She put down the phone and was gone for what seemed to be a long time. I was very worried and was tempted to just hang up and run to their house. When she returned she told me that my father had locked himself in his van and was going to kill himself. She had come into call the police when I called. When she told him that I was on the phone he unlocked his door and came in to talk to me. I was able to convince him that suicide was not the answer, and that I needed him alive, even if he was an alcoholic.

            When I was 17 and living with my mother again, that same grandmother fell over in a drunken stupor, hit her head and hemorrhaged to death. I did not know it but my father was in the hospital at the time. He had tried to quit drinking again and his liver was shutting down. His body was giving up after so many years of abuse. He got out of the hospital the day before the funeral, but the day after went into convulsions and was taken back to the hospital by EMS. He slipped into a coma and his doctors told us that he would most likely not live through it. I prayed again for my earthly father and was given peace by my Heavenly Father. I knew that he would survive. I called the local Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and asked for priesthood holders to administer a blessing to him. We gave him a blessing; I kissed him on the forehead and knew that he was to be spared once again. I took a break from my bedside vigil and went down the hall to sleep on a couch in the hospital. My mother woke me very early the next mourning and told me that he was waking up. The doctors even then said not to get our hopes up because he would most likely have brain damage. One year later I paid for his books and a deposit on a rental house next to the college. He was clean and sober, and he was going back to school to make something of his life. He now has a drug and alcohol counseling business and has helped hundreds of people kick addiction.

            I have witnessed the power of a personal testimony, the power of prayer, the power of the priesthood, and the power of faith in a loving and living Savior. I was given a truly powerful witness of the truth for a reason. Heavenly Father knew what was in store for me and he knew what it would take for me to become a strong man in the gospel. I had to fall on my face over and over again just like my father before I could be truly shored up by the matchless love of God. I was a week man even with the powerful witness that I was given, and I fell short of the atonement. It wasn’t until about seven years ago that I started that long and painful journey back. I have allowed the atonement to work in my life, and his sacrifice for me was not in vein. He endured more pain for my sins than I could imagine. I have had some hard knocks in this life and most recently have experienced the most painful loss as of yet. My wife of ten years filed for divorce and kicked me and my three children from my first marriage out of the house. She decided that she wanted the freedoms that marriage does not offer and I have had to start over again at thirty eight years old. I have been torn away from my other children and given little contact with them. We were homeless living off of the generosity of friends. I paid my tithing, and was blessed once again. After almost three months of not having a home of our own we were finally able to settle down. When I woke on the mourning that we were to move in we had only enough things to fill our van about half full. I had prayed for Heavenly Father to provide means for us to live on our own and I had faith that he would do so. When we went to bed late that evening we had beds, a washer and dryer, dishes, table and chairs, living room furniture, and much more. I would have to rent a moving truck in order to move again.

            I lived without that power in my life for too long and now I have it back. That power is the love of God. It was always there for me, but I turned away from it. Heavenly Father knew that I was weak and would fall to temptation and despair. He also saw the strength that I could posses and when I turned back to him he showed me that strength and how to use it. With out Him I am nothing more that a man, a weak man, who gets lost easily. With Him I am stronger than any temptation, or any of the devil’s minions and their fiery darts. I know that I can suffer what ever comes my way and I will never again turn my back on Him. I have been saved from the pit of despair and will not return.

            I know that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. The church is true because it is lead, and has been since it was restored, by a living prophet under the direction of the Savior himself. I know that the Book of Mormon is truly the word of God. It is a second witness of Christ, the first being the Bible. It was translated by Joseph Smith through the power of God and given to us as a latter day beacon to guide us through this dispensation. I know that Heavenly Father hears and answers prayer. I know that Jesus Christ atoned for the sins of the world, and that atonement has saved me from certain destruction. I have witnessed these things first hand because I looked for the truth, I lacked wisdom, and asked of God, who gives to all men liberally, and does not chastise; and it was given to me. I bear this witness to all who read it in the sacred name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

Tags: Jesus Christ Faith Prayer Preisthood Miracle God's Love

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