A Conversion Story: Epilogue, Part I
(Coming in late? Start from the beginning!)
The day after our baptism, Keith and I had a great day at Church. Everyone was so excited for us, and our bishop took me aside and shared some counsel that I can only describe as a prophecy. (I won’t share the details, but suffice to say, it has been partially fulfilled and in process of being completely fulfilled.) Afterwards, though, is when the real excitement started.
After leaving Church, we headed back to Keith’s house. While Keith ran up to his room to change his clothes, his grandfather took me outside to the front porch for a little talk. Once there, he informed me that I was no longer welcome in their home and that I shouldn’t come back in. I stood there on the steps for a few minutes until Keith came out and asked me what was going on. I’ll never forget the look on his face as he quickly headed back in, calling, “Grandpa!”
While I continued to stand on the porch, Keith got to fully witness a very loud argument, which I only heard piecemeal through the door. As far as I could tell, Keith wasn’t involved at all; the argument was actually between his grandfather and father, the latter pointing out that since Grandpa didn’t live there, he had no say as to who was welcome there. After a minute or two of this, Keith emerged, leaving them to duke it out while we escaped to my house.
In the first few months of our membership, Keith and I had the opportunity to be ordained to the Priesthood; serve together in the priests quorum leadership; and attend the Washington, D.C., Temple. We also had lunch with a family from our ward, the Blodgetts, the second Sunday of each month, after which the father and oldest son (and, to a lesser extent, the rest of the family) taught us a lesson. We didn’t know they were our home teachers; we just knew we loved being there with them.
An amazing thing happened at those lunches: for as long as I’d known him, Keith had had a severe eating disorder that forced him to survive on cold cereal, junk food, and French fries. (Really.) Shortly after our baptism, he was given a Priesthood blessing in which he was promised he would be able to overcome this. At our second lunch with the Blodgetts, Keith was able to eat an apple. At our third meeting, he had a salad. By the end of the year, Keith had tried all sorts of food and was eating like anyone else. It was truly a miracle of healing.
Over the course of our senior year, Keith and I continued to share the gospel as best we knew how (which wasn’t always effective). We tried, though, and I guess that counts for something. We also attended seminary as often as possible, but Keith’s medication (for a syndrome unrelated to his eating disorder) made it difficult for him to make his required 5:15 AM departure. Since I was too young to have a driver’s license, I, too, stayed home from most classes, but read the entire Old Testament on my own.
After graduation, I went off to Bloomington, Indiana, to pursue a dual major in mathematics and electronic music composition at Indiana University. Keith, still undecided on a major, moved to Rexburg, Idaho, to attend Church school Ricks College (now Brigham Young University—Idaho). The future was definitely bright… for me.
Tune in next time for the epiloguic conclusion!
The day after our baptism, Keith and I had a great day at Church. Everyone was so excited for us, and our bishop took me aside and shared some counsel that I can only describe as a prophecy. (I won’t share the details, but suffice to say, it has been partially fulfilled and in process of being completely fulfilled.) Afterwards, though, is when the real excitement started.
After leaving Church, we headed back to Keith’s house. While Keith ran up to his room to change his clothes, his grandfather took me outside to the front porch for a little talk. Once there, he informed me that I was no longer welcome in their home and that I shouldn’t come back in. I stood there on the steps for a few minutes until Keith came out and asked me what was going on. I’ll never forget the look on his face as he quickly headed back in, calling, “Grandpa!”
While I continued to stand on the porch, Keith got to fully witness a very loud argument, which I only heard piecemeal through the door. As far as I could tell, Keith wasn’t involved at all; the argument was actually between his grandfather and father, the latter pointing out that since Grandpa didn’t live there, he had no say as to who was welcome there. After a minute or two of this, Keith emerged, leaving them to duke it out while we escaped to my house.
In the first few months of our membership, Keith and I had the opportunity to be ordained to the Priesthood; serve together in the priests quorum leadership; and attend the Washington, D.C., Temple. We also had lunch with a family from our ward, the Blodgetts, the second Sunday of each month, after which the father and oldest son (and, to a lesser extent, the rest of the family) taught us a lesson. We didn’t know they were our home teachers; we just knew we loved being there with them.
An amazing thing happened at those lunches: for as long as I’d known him, Keith had had a severe eating disorder that forced him to survive on cold cereal, junk food, and French fries. (Really.) Shortly after our baptism, he was given a Priesthood blessing in which he was promised he would be able to overcome this. At our second lunch with the Blodgetts, Keith was able to eat an apple. At our third meeting, he had a salad. By the end of the year, Keith had tried all sorts of food and was eating like anyone else. It was truly a miracle of healing.
Over the course of our senior year, Keith and I continued to share the gospel as best we knew how (which wasn’t always effective). We tried, though, and I guess that counts for something. We also attended seminary as often as possible, but Keith’s medication (for a syndrome unrelated to his eating disorder) made it difficult for him to make his required 5:15 AM departure. Since I was too young to have a driver’s license, I, too, stayed home from most classes, but read the entire Old Testament on my own.
After graduation, I went off to Bloomington, Indiana, to pursue a dual major in mathematics and electronic music composition at Indiana University. Keith, still undecided on a major, moved to Rexburg, Idaho, to attend Church school Ricks College (now Brigham Young University—Idaho). The future was definitely bright… for me.
Tune in next time for the epiloguic conclusion!
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