It all started when my cousin married a girl from a less active branch of a prominent LDS family. He joined the Church. They went to the temple.
About two years later, my mother’s mother joined the Church. She was 72 at the time and had attended another church for many years. But the LDS people were much friendlier. Gram remained faithful to the end of her days. I strongly suspect it was she who prayed me into the Church.
I was baptized nine years after Gram, three weeks after my first divorce was final; one of my professors convinced me that God had a plan for me and that life was still worth living. He returned my gun to the gun shop for me and arranged for the first missionary discussion. Ten days later he baptized me.
We had a wonderful branch president and his wife. As I gradually replaced the contents of my closet with modest apparel, she quietly provided a gracious example and encouragement. He helped me to get my spiritual act together. I dived headfirst into Institute. I was spiritually famished with just enough sense to recognize it.
One year after my baptism, while seated at the same table as the elders, one of them asked where I had served my mission! That is how much spiritual progress I had been able to make. It wasn’t until another sister in the branch told him that I was baptized a year or so after she, that he finally realized I was not lying to him.
Two years after my baptism, I married the children’s father in the Salt Lake temple. Gram was my escort.
But, you ask, how and when was I converted? The first night I began reading tracts and a large section of 3rd and 4th Nephi. When Moroni challenged the Gentiles to straighten up and fly right, I knew he was talking to me. I knew I had made a botch of my life, and it was time to let God take over. I had my testimony of the Book of Mormon at first reading. If the book was true (and it is), then Joseph was a prophet, and the Church was also true.
For nearly 38 years I have kept at least one hand on the iron rod. Three of my children have fallen away as a result of my divorcing their father. I have served as a Relief Society president and a temple worker. Last year I married a wonderful man, knowing that he had Stage IV colon cancer. He died the day after our first anniversary, twelve hours before he was to sign his will.
Life has not gotten particularly easier. But God has never forsaken me. And in the next few weeks I will go to the temple and be sealed to my sweetheart. And I will spend the eternities with the dearest and funniest man I know, keeping Heaven lively.
~ Lynn Elliott Davis ~
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| Lynn with Grandson |
Thank you all for your kind words.
Hugs to Lynn! Hooray for your faith and courage.
Having at least one hand on the iron rod really is the safest place to be. Thank you for your beautiful example of enduring faith.
Loved this sentence: “I knew I had made a botch of my life, and it was time to let God take over.”
That is the true root of conversion. Thanks for sharing your wonderful story.
MMM wanted to use this photo. I would have been more comfortable with the icon from my blog. Or my profile pic from Facebook. This was taken shortly before my husband’s memorial service. Beloved nicknamed that little guy “T the Destroyer.” He plays well with his new cousin, “M the Marauder.”
It’s wonderful to hear about a professor who steered you towards God instead of away from God. What a different world this would be if more professors were like that.
Thanks for sharing your story. You have demonstrated a lot of faith!
Awww…thank you so much for sharing this tender story. Thank you for letting your light shine.
Wow. This really touched me. I love that you keep your testimony shining through all the difficulties you have encountered. Sending lots of hugs.