The "WHY" behind being a Mormon!

My beautiful and loyal K-Slicers:

WHAT IS UP!? You guys, can I just say I love the liberty of writing whatever the heck I want? I mean, there are a few questions that were submitted to me that I have yet to answer, but on this post I decided to go my own way for a change. I will, however, get back to y’all and answer your questions. So keep submitting them and I will answer them in the upcoming posts. That being said, thank you for supporting my blog by submitting those questions. Keep it up!

I’m assuming that by reading the title of this post you already know what this is all about. If not, then that’s okay. Just keep reading! =) I am going to tell you my conversion story! “Conversion story?” you may ask, “Haven’t you been a member your whole life?” Yes, but everyone’s a convert. I didn’t get a testimony until after I was baptized. No one is born with a testimony of the gospel. Hence why so many people who are born into strong LDS families leave the church!

Now I can’t tell you this story without pretty much telling you the story of my life. So bear with me as I tell you this in more than one post! Why did I decide to share my conversion story? Well, I love to hear how other people knew for themselves that it was all true. Let’s face it: believing in a God you’ve never seen with your own eyes isn’t easy. And knowing that out of all the churches, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true, is also not easy. But there are people out there who absolutely know with all their hearts that all of this is true. I am happy to say that I am among those people. And I hope that by knowing my conversion story you will be uplifted, questions you may have will be answered, and that you will feel a desire to draw closer to God.

Another reason as to why I decided this conversion-story-series is because I also have a lot of friends who aren’t Mormon – from high school, jobs, university, old roommates, etc. And I’ve definitely had some of those friends approach me and ask what it is about the church that makes me go to it 3 hours a week, to not drink or swear or sleep around. So this post is for YOU BEAUTIFUL PEEPS AS WELL! I want you guys to know why I do all of this and how I became a Mormon!

I was born in Sao Paulo, Brazil back in the early 90’s to an LDS family. Mother found out about a church through her best friend when she was a teenager and despite the fact that she’s the only member of her immediate family who is an active member of the church, she always stayed strong.

My paternal grandparents found out about the church through full-time missionaries back in the 60’s down in Porto Alegre, Brazil (hence why I get so emotional and motivated for missionary work). When they moved up to Sao Paulo, however, they stopped coming out to church. When my dad was a teenager, he started going to church on his own, got baptized, then served an honourable mission in Rio de Janeiro. (I really like his conversion story so maybe I’ll do a post on it where I can go into more detail). While my dad was on his mission, his immediate family came back to church, member by member. Then when he came home he was sealed to them for time and all eternity. Then he met mother and married her in the temple, then had my sister and I in the covenant. It’s pretty sweet! I like my family. They’re cool!

Growing up, I didn’t like church. I grew up in sunny Brazil so I strongly disliked the fact that I had to dress modestly. I also didn’t like that I had to wait until I was 14 to go to dances (I actually cried on my pillow once over that), or that I couldn’t swear like my friends did, or did I understand what was so bad about rated-R movies. Then when I found out cooties weren’t real, I didn’t understand why I had to wait until I was 16 to date the cute guy who liked me back. I especially didn’t like going to church because I thought it was boring. But, I liked running around the church with the boys when I was in primary. Then I got all sad when I moved up to Young Women’s and had to do personal progress and be brainwashed about marriage. But what I didn’t understand the most was why my parents loved church so much and kept the commandments. Though I thought they were crazy for that, part of me wondered what it was that made them so strong in the gospel and how they would know all of it was true. And that was what made me live the gospel, though I didn’t know it was true and I didn’t want to.

I was also not a very good person. I was unkind, incredibly selfish, and dishonest. Being those things were in my comfort zone and the fact that the gospel teaches us to be kind, loving, selfless, and honest ruined my life.

Despite all of this, I always loved missionaries as a kid. There was something about them that drew me close to them, especially sister missionaries. When I was six, there was a sister missionary in my ward who I just loved with all my heart and wanted to go on a mission someday so I could be as cool as she was. Then when I was 12, my dad got called to serve in the Brazil Missionary Training Centre and I’d occasionally go with him so I could talk to the sisters. I remember feeling different there, like as if that place stood out from any other place I’ve been to. It was my first memory of feeling the spirit. In fact, my visit to the Brazil MTC was more memorable than my visit to the Campinas Temple open house. But that might’ve been because I was 10.

Then when I was 13 I was at a Sunday school lesson and we were talking about Joseph Smith’s first vision. I thought church was boring and I’m ADHD, so if I wasn’t disrupting class I was zoning out. But what struck me was when our teacher quoted James 1:5 (which was the scripture that got Joseph to go into the woods and pray) and he challenged us to do the same – to ask God if it was all true. It hit me because of our teacher’s confidence to say that. How is it that he absolutely knows that if I pray I will know it’s all true? I should try it if he’s so confident about it. Another thing that hit me was the fact that I couldn’t honestly say I 100% knew it was all true and I really wanted to. So, I took on that challenge.

Now, I don’t think I should share what exactly happened because it was personal and sacred. And if I go out and share these experiences I run the risk of not having them anymore. But what I can say is I didn’t get an answer as instantly as I wanted to. But I wanted an answer, so I prayed and prayed until I knew. And when the answer did come, I was overwhelmed with the love of God to the point where the truthfulness of everything I’ve been taught was undeniable. I then made a commitment to keep the standards and stay away from anyone who made me compromise that.

But it’s not like that one experience was it and I automatically knew everything was all true. I still continued to make mistakes and I still had my imperfections. But that was the moment I believe a real seed was planted in my heart. That was when my personal conversion process really began. So I started going to church for different reasons – instead of going there to see my friends, I was there to learn and to grow and to feel the spirit. The more firesides and talks I heard, the stronger my desire to live the gospel.  I also started doing my personal progress, which if anything, strengthened my testimony and made me a better person. The more I lived the gospel and saw the blessings that came from it, the more I knew everything was all true.

After a general conference weekend when I was about 17, my family and I had family home evening

and discussed what our favourite talks were. I could really feel the spirit and I remember at the very end I just bore my testimony to my parents that I knew President Monson was a prophet, that Jesus lives and that this church was true. My chest was burning and my eyes were wet and I was overwhelmed by this peace and certainty I felt at that moment. I knew it was all true. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! And I loved God so much at that moment.

I loved the gospel, and it made me happy. And it broke my heart at the thought that there were people out there who didn’t have the gospel in their lives. I thought of the missionaries that found my family and how if it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have the joy of the gospel. So I felt a burning desire to serve a full-time mission as soon as I turned 21. I yearned for it so bad. I always have. The difference was that at first it was because it looked like it was cool, and now it was because I genuinely loved the gospel and wanted to share it with others. But, I was only 17 so I still had time. I wished I didn’t have to wait another 4 years. The irony of this was that I was too shy to do member missionary work!

Another goal I had was to attend Brigham Young University in Provo. So I worked hard towards it. I maintained a solid GPA, took AP classes, attended seminary, and whatever else it took for me to get in. I’d always include my desire to go to BYU in my daily prayers. If you had asked where I saw myself at age 22, my answer would’ve been continuing my studies at BYU after returning from a full-time mission.

However, when I was 18, my family and I were invited by the Canadian government to be Permanent

Residents. It’s like having an American green card, only it’s in Canada. I’d become a Canadian, and the only difference between that and an actual Canadian was I couldn’t vote and I couldn’t have a Canadian passport. The condition was that I lived in Canada for at least two years in every 5-year cycle, but if I lived there for three years I would be eligible to apply for citizenship. And once you’re a citizen, you’re free to live wherever the heck you want, to vote, and to have a Canadian passport! So I thought, “Okay, I’ll just go to any college up in Canada and after two years apply to BYU and finish my schooling there!” though I wish I could do my entire 4 years in BYU.

Then a representative from UBC came to my high school and did a presentation. I learned that BC had the warmest weather in Canada, that UBC’s world ranking was ahead of BYU, and that it seemed like a cool place to go to for school. So I applied there! I had also heard that Alberta was where the church was the strongest, but I didn’t even bother applying because I had heard that it was incredibly cold. Turns out, I got in to UBC! The moment I got my acceptance letter I knew that Kelowna was where I needed to go. Yet I got hardcore butterflies in my stomach. As a matter of fact, I got bats in my stomach. I was so nervous and terrified. I didn’t know what the church was like there, if there were any YSA there, if I would stay strong in the gospel without an honour code to keep me in line, and if I’d be depressed being so far away from my family. I was terrified. So my dad gives me a blessing and after that I knew that I was supposed to go to Kelowna and that I was gonna be okay.

So I moved to Kelowna! It was scary. I knew nobody there. I was the only Brazilian in my ward and none of my roommates were members either. I was lucky to get roommates who didn’t party it up that much and who were respectful. I made friends with the YSA in my ward. At the time, there were two family wards in Kelowna and only a few YSA. However, I lived 4 hours away from the nearest temple, only one institute class was offered, and dances only happened once a month if we were lucky.

You’d think that would shake my church activity and my testimony of the gospel. That’s what I feared would happen too. But the strange thing is, the exact opposite happened. Being away from my family encouraged me to attend church activities so that I could be around members of the church as often as I could, and to strengthen my friendships. Not having family home evening, family scripture study or family prayer encouraged me to say my personal prayers and study the scriptures more consistently. Living far away from the temple encouraged me to attend it as often as possible and made my visits more spiritual. Having a smaller YSA group made me appreciate the power of true friendships and to focus on people on a more individual level. So in other words, coming to Kelowna made me a better person and strengthened my testimony.

So that was how I rolled. Towards the end of my first year in university, all the guys my age were

leaving on missions and I began to notice how the preparation for it made them better people. I wondered if I’d end up going on a mission someday. If the desires I had when I was younger were still there. So a thought came to my mind, “I’m going to Brazil this summer and I haven’t received any job offers. My brother-in-law’s sister served a mini mission for two weeks so maybe I’ll just serve the Lord this summer so then I’ll know if I wanna go full-time when I turn 21.” As soon as that thought came into my mind, I felt this incredible burning in my bosom. So I messaged my brother-in-law’s mom and asked her who I should contact in order to serve this mini mission. As I wrote the message, I recall how strong I felt the spirit and how right the decision to serve a mini mission was.

So this is everything for part 1 of my conversion story! Hope you guys enjoyed it so far. My next post will be ALL about my mini-mission (hopefully I’ll remember all the deets! :/). Stay tuned! I love you beautiful K-slicers. Thank you so much for reading my blog, messaging me with suggestions, commenting, liking, and all that jazz. You guys are the BEST!

Love,

Miss Mottola <3