God Blesses Families

(Personal reflection based off of the reading from Preach My Gospel, page 32)

I come from a circumstance where the sacredness of the family unit was not preserved. Before I converted to the church, I knew something was wrong. Why else was I in Foster Care? Why else had there been divorce in my family's past? To me, life was just a bunch of clutter; it was confusing. But then something good happened. God intervened on my behalf--almost as if He had picked me up and dropped me into an entirely different circumstance. I all of the sudden had a family that was different than my other family. The parents that I had loved each other and they were even good to each other too. These parents, they took me to church and taught me about God. They were there for me 100%. They did things that no one else would do for me and my siblings--like taking us to school, taking us to the doctors and the dentists (one of my siblings had never even been to the dentist at the age of fourteen!), and helping us with our homework. To these people that God had plopped into my life, family was everything. They couldn't have their own children and so having a family period was everything and they would do anything to get it and to maintain it. No sacrifice could be considered too great.

So these parents chose me--a rebellious child with a lot of baggage. I was tough and no one could control me. The tantrums that I threw were horrendous. I spit and I kicked. I cursed like a sailor too. I was verbally abusive and emotionally demanding. By the age of three, I had reaped all the negatives that my society had taught me. Did I believe in God? Did I have a sense of morality? No and no. If you tried to guide me in any way I would go the opposite. You had to let me choose for myself because no matter what your influence was, I would be the alternative. 

Sure, by the age of six I knew the Gospel through and through. I could quote scripture upon scripture like a Bible college student. As I heard on TV the other day, "I [was] Kingdom!" But no. That was the good little Sunday School girl in me, but get me in my home and I was--let's be blunt--a heathen.

At six years old, I was sent on an extended visit with my biological family. I stayed with my biological grandmother who, in my opinion then, was very Catholic and seemed to be directing her every motive at turning me into a Catholic. I wasn't having it. No one could force religion or opinions on me. I had my own mind and I was okay with that, whether or not no one else was. I had grown tired of the grandmother's attempts at trying to get me to pray her way and one day I reached my boiling point. I not only wanted her to stop the indoctrination attempts but I wanted to know for myself which church was true. Like I had heard it being said in James 1:5:

"If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, 

and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him"

So I threw a giant tantrum that sent the grandmother running from the room. I barricaded the door and paced around the room. I was trembling with anger and my eyes were fixed with too much emotion. For the first time by myself, I went down on my knees and I prayed. I don't recall exactly what I prayed for or in what context. I was using "thees" and "thous" and "thys" left and right--nervous that I could appear irreverent by any cause. I do remember that, but I also remember the feelings that I felt. I felt assured. I was calm and felt like there was some sort of insurance on my life. Everything was going to be okay no matter what happened. That peace was the best feeling that I had ever felt in my short six years of life. I felt a lot of other things too. I felt that one day I would be a member of the church because it was then that I felt, with every fiber of my small being, that it was true--that it was and is Christ's original church restored to the earth. 

After the extended visit with my biological family, I went home to MY family. I wasn't any different in attitude. I was just as bad as I ever was because I was six and I didn't know how to properly deal with my situation. However, I was different in perspective. I knew, for the first time, truth eternal. I could grasp that concept and that concept held me together through the drama that was unfolded over the next several years.

Two years later I got baptized. Two years after that I found myself in a temple room. I found myself faced with a concept of eternity--two mirrors facing each other and you could see through those two mirrors how eternity is. It goes on and on and on. It has always been and will always be that way. That day we had a ceremony called a "sealing"--a form of "family insurance" where we can be together forever--always connected--as a family unit. For me, that is how God blessed my family. He brought us all together in quite a miraculous way and molded us into an eternal unit. That is the miracle of it all and that is the greatest blessing I could ever expect to receive. 

Note: My childhood perspective of Catholicism (due to my experience with the grandmother) may be naive. Certainly I do not view Catholics in a negative viewpoint. I respect them and I enjoy learning about their history.