Testimony

Lavonne Henry didn’t have a testimony. Oh, she knew that the Church was good, and helped those in need, but if you asked her if she believed in Jesus, if she had been saved, she’d have to tell you ‘no’.

Lavonne was third generation Mormon. Her grandparents had walked across the plains to get to Utah. They had a testimony. They knew what they were doing was right, and they were willing to give up everything they had, even die, for what they believed. Her grandfather James had stood firm even when the Missourian mob dragged him out of his bed, put a gun to his head, and threatened to shoot him if he didn’t renounce the Mormon church. “You’ll just have to kill me, then, boys,” James had said firmly to the crowd of mud-faced men. “Because I’ll never deny my Savior, and I won’t leave His church.” It probably would have been a shock to him to find that his granddaughter didn’t really believe one way or the other.

So it went with Lavonne. She grew up in the church, went when her parents made her. She knew all the stories and the answers to all the questions – no, Mormons aren’t polygamists, anyone with more than one spouse gets excommunicated; yes, Mormons read the Bible and still think it’s scripture; and the missionary favorite: yes, we believe in Jesus Christ. Goes with the whole “Church of Jesus Christ” deal. She knew the facts, but never felt that “burning in her bosom” other members always talked about. Had never felt anything, really. So after she got married in a civil ceremony, she and her husband didn’t go that often. Things just kept them from church – the baby had been sick, or they’d been up late the night before. Little things, but they added up. It was no surprise when her daughter married a nice Catholic boy (non-practicing), or that her grandchildren didn’t care for religion at all. It made her sad sometimes to think of what her grandfather would thought, having sacrificed so much for his beliefs, but guilt didn’t get her to church either.

“Grandma! Grandma! Guess what!” Michelle cried, bursting into the house. Of all her grandchildren, Lavonne was closest to Michelle. Perhaps that was because she was her first grandbaby. Michelle had discussed her college plans and sweethearts with her grandmother, and even though she was a full-scale working woman now, she always had time to drop in for a visit.

“Grandma, I’m getting baptized!”

“Baptized?” Lavonne was startled. Despite her roots, Michelle hadn’t been baptized Mormon or Catholic. Lavonne wasn’t even sure her granddaughter knew what churches her parents had been born into.

Michelle was bursting with the news – she had rushed straight to her grandmother’s house as soon as she made the decision. Now she eagerly shared the details.

Several weeks before, two women had come knocking at Michelle’s door. Michelle, of course, was familiar with the stereotype of Mormon missionaries – two guys in suits and ties on bicycles – so she had been startled when the young ladies introduced themselves as missionaries for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They looked hot and tired, so she invited them inside and offered them something to drink. In return, they told her about Joseph Smith and the golden plates that had contained the word of God on them.

“I have to admit, Grandma, I was skeptical. An angel descending in the 19th century? It seemed a little odd to me.”

But the young women were friendly, so Michelled had accepted their request to meet with them the following week. Before they left, they had given her a copy of the Book of Mormon, and they’d asked her to read a few passages and pray about it.

“And Grandma, I did, I prayed about it, and it was the most amazing thing.” She pulled out a now-well-thumbed copy of the book and read:

And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.

And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.

“ I read that, and I thought that was kind of interesting, because that’s what these missionaries kept saying. ‘Don’t take our word for it,’ they told me. ‘This isn’t between us and you. This is between you and God.’ And they asked me to pray about it.”

So she had. “I read this part and thought, wow, that’s interesting. A religion that encourages you to think for yourself.” She gave her grandmother a wry grin.

“I prayed about it, and then I read this section here, Grandma, and it talks about Jesus and how he visits the other eleven tribes after the Resurrection.” She flipped it open to a section titled “3 Nephi 11” and read it out loud to her grandmother.

And as she sat there, Lavonne listened, for once, really listened to the words, and she felt her heart grow warm as Jesus descended and the ancient people of American touched his wounds and spoke of his love.

Michelle continued. “I felt it, Grandma, a feeling in my heart like I’ve never felt before. A certainty, an absolute certainty, that this was true, that the Book of Mormon did come from God.” She sighed. “I felt a little funny still about the whole brass plate deal, but I’ve been investigating the church, doing a lot of reading. There’s a lot of things that I like, and there’s a lot of things that just make sense to me, and then I pray about it, and I just feel in my heart that it’s true. So Grandma, I’m going to be baptized Mormon.”

With tears running down her cheeks, Lavonne looked at her granddaughter and whispered, “So am I.”