I don’t remember the exact moment I became converted to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I feel as though I have always known that He is my Savior. I have always felt a part of me knows Him, and the rest of me is just trying to remember. I know that I know Him. I know that I will see Him again. I look forward to that day more than anything.
However, I do remember the precise moment that I knew the Book of Mormon was true. I was raised in the Church. I was baptized when I was eight, and ordained a deacon when I was 12. But shortly after my ordination, I stopped attending church. I just didn’t want to go to the meetings. The older I got and the further into my teenage years I went, the less I wanted to attend.
I knew then, even at that time, that I was making the wrong choice. Indeed, I was making many wrong choices that took me to a rather dark place. I also suffered from insomnia and depression. I could feel hope slipping further and further away. My life grew darker and darker. I kept to myself. I rarely spoke to my family. I didn’t continue my education after high school and made other poor choices.
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