Why I Share My Faith

Once upon a time (in high school), I shared the most important thing in my life (the gospel) with someone who I cared a lot about (my boyfriend).  Sound familiar?

Eventually (the summer after we graduated), he was baptized into the church.  And although I wasn't at all sure yet that he would make the gospel a life-long commitment, our love blossomed quickly that summer, as young love does.  I was a woman now of 19.  I was a freshman in college, and I began to allow myself to envision a future with him.

I can't say, however, that I was completely surprised when, a year and a half later, he called me at school to tell me that he didn't really believe in the church.  I was shocked, however, to hear him say that he didn't even believe in God.  

For all of the words that we had exchanged both in person and in writing up until that point in our lives, in that moment, I had no words.  I was completely and entirely at a loss for what to say next.  All I knew...all we both knew...was that it was over between us.  He knew I wouldn't be married anywhere but in the temple, to a worthy priesthood-holder.  Although we loved each other very much...that just wasn't going to be enough.  And we both knew it.

So there were no words left for either of us...only pain.

I have no idea what he did with his pain and disappointment, but I know what I did with mine.  I turned to the Lord.

Years later, much of that evening is a teary blur, but one part I remember as clear as day, and I doubt time will ever erase it.  

I remember hanging up the phone and dropping to my knees.  I was alone in my dorm room, trying to get the words of a prayer out.  In desperation, I begged God, "Please, don't leave me alone.  Please, don't let me be alone!"  I must have sounded a lot like a child who cries out for her Father to rescue her from darkness.  

In response to my prayer, I received an immediate, undeniable, personal assurance that there is a God, that He knows me, and that no matter who walks in or out of my life, He would always stand by me.

In the decade and a half that has passed since that evening, I am happy to say that He has kept that promise.  And I have tried to stand my Him as well.

It was difficult, at first, to stand by Him.  I needed time to heal.  

That next semester at school passed like a strange dream.  I went to class, but didn't remember much.  In fact, I felt almost nothing at all, for a long time.

When I started to wake up from the numbness, I began getting a taste of just how sad I really was over my loss, and then I started to smart from it all.

I told myself that never again would I share my faith with anyone...ever...never, ever, ever!

I had conversations with myself saying that I just didn't care anymore.  Even if someone stood up in class and asked me directly, "Are there any Mormons in this room," I decided that I would say nothing.  

It just wasn't worth the risk, I decided, of ever feeling that kind of grief again.  I wanted to protect the things that meant the most to me, by keeping them to myself.

A few weeks passed like this.  I probably didn't have much to share with others anyway.  I felt so hollow inside.  But I continued to go to church and attend institute on campus, of course.  And one day, a few weeks later, I cracked open my Book of Mormon and began reading again. I am not sure what I read, but I suddenly realized how selfish I had been, how childish.

I immediately repented of my temper-tantrum, and in the same breath, I covenanted with the Lord that I would always share the gospel and be an instrument in His hands in bringing His children to Him.

Within days of this realization, people began coming out of the woodwork, people who wanted to know about the gospel, people who the Lord had already put in my path, who I had already become friends with, people who needed to return to the fold, who were just waiting for me to break free from my stupor.

It was nothing short of miraculous.  And the Lord showed once again that He did indeed exist, that He was actually acutely aware of me and of my feelings...because He felt them too.  

That experience bonded me to the Savior in a profound way, and should probably be considered the birth of my adult testimony.  

I learned from that experience first-hand how much God cares about each and every one of His children.  


So, why do I share my faith?  Because I care about them too.


When I read The Book of Mormon, I read the words of many people through history, who have seen the Savior, who have heard His voice, who have obeyed His word and learned to trust in Him.  The Book of Mormon is proof that God knows and communicates with ALL of His children, regardless of when or where they lived, that Jesus Christ is the Savior of all mankind, and that He lives.


I add my testimony to theirs when I say:  I know that He Lives.  And I want you to know it too.  If you would like to know more about what we, as member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints believe, please read here all next month.  If you have a question that you'd like me to address in my blog posts, please email me at jocelyn.christensen@gmail.com.

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*If you are interested in reading more testimonies like this one or blogging along with us in The Book of Mormon Forum nextmonth, please grab a button and send me an email with "Book of Mormon Forum" in the subject line.  I sent an email out with details last night, so if you haven't received that email...let me know!  Thanks!