Conversion

Picture it: May, 1998. El Paso, TX. Living with my parents in the suburbs. It was a tough time because I was in the middle of a huge lifestyle change. I was leaving a lot behind; some good, some bad. I had spent the bulk of my teenage years as a very passive agnostic. "I don't know and I don't think I wanna know.....yet" was virtually my motto. I had spent those years as the faithful girlfriend of a semi-celebrated musician in El Paso. Well, one, and then another. Anyway, that's not the important part (though it is a fun story..later, later). Point is, I was now utterly alone in a new place, or at least it felt that way. I had friends I had known forever. Problem was, they were all doing all the things I had been doing for years and those were the things I knew I had to leave behind. Once my relationship with semi-celebrated musician No. 2 went south, artistic differences ;), I found myself questioning many things. For some reason, questions around existence, the meaning of life, the afterlife, etc. had found their way to my brain and were now making themselves quite a nuisance. I read philosophy voraciously, looking for answers. Too bad philosophy can only offer more and more questions. Fun to read but no solace. None. Would I have to turn to religion? The institution I had thought for so long was fraught with utter nonsense? The hypocrisy! The injustice! The folklore! The downright silliness and ridiculousness of it all! My brain fought hard against it. Still, the need for answers was stronger than the internal argument and the rather snotty, quasi-intellectual tendencies. I started reading about religion. I really wanted to be Jewish. There was something very pleasing about all the tradition and history. Alas, it didn't fill the void. Not that I tried very hard but Judaism isn't avid for converts. I looked into THE NEW CHRISTIANITY but I found it lacking the structure I sought. Resorting to the faith of my youth, I reluctantly decided to take the Mormon missionary discussions. I thought it would be worthwhile to try and scratch them off the list post haste, easing my conscience and showing my parents I had at least given it a fair shot. Problem was, by the third discussion, I knew it was true. It was as if it was to my own demise! It was, in fact, to the demise of the life and much of the self I had been existing in/as for most my life up to that point. Once I knew there was no point denying it. I couldn't fight it and I didn't want to waste any more time in illusion. There WAS a God, He abides by certain undeniable principles, we are His offspring, and I had better get with the program and align myself with these realities sooner rather than later or I would end up paying the price. What price? Missed opportunities to serve. Missed opportunities to learn. Missed opportunities in/with relationships. Missed opportunities for growth and development. And when it comes to missing opportunities, the saddest thing to consider is what you might have realized. And what you might have realized, noticed, or seen could have changed things, and drastically at that. What I am really saying is, the real price is the person you might have become. I couldn't take another minute pretending not to care. I did care, and how. I was overcome with a feeling of hope and trust In God. I was sorry for all the reckless, senseless, mean, rotten things I had done. I wanted to change and I was willing to do the work. So I had to sever some relationships. I had to stop frequenting certain haunts I had loved. There were certain practices and ideas I had to drop. I won't say it was easy, but I will tell you it felt very good. Some people were angry, others annoyed, some inspired, still others perplexed. I couldn't get too worked up about anyone else's reaction to my conversion. I only knew, and I knew I knew, that this was my path. How did I know? There is a distinct feeling associated with truth. There are zillions of lovely ideas, interesting notions, marvelous concepts of all shapes and kinds. But not all of those communicate to the soul the way truth does. I have learned the difference between the feeling I get when I experience something genius and when I experience something good, as in true, from a divine source. This was different, all these feelings I was getting talking with the missionaries. It wasn't overly intriguing, new, or intricately complex, or fascinating. But it was true. In the end, that was enough.
I moved to Austin. I started attending church each Sunday. I started attending institute classes during the week to learn more. I felt awkward often, as I was surrounded by people who had never tasted alcohol, smoked a cigarette, or kissed passionately......etc. I felt like I didn't really belong. That is, until I met Christy Kizerian. To be continued.....