Growing up with Mormon grandparents, I always saw them as weirdly religious. My mother had distanced herself from the church long before I was born and I had learned from her influence that it was something I didn’t need or want in my life. I was raised with no religion and no real interest in it. I would hear my friends talking about God and kind of pity them for believing in such things.
We live very close to a church and whenever I would walk past it I would feel this strange longing to be a part of something like that. I didn’t know what I believed, but I knew that as I got older and had a family, I wanted religion.
Jayson had expressed a similar desire, and we had been talking about various churches around the time that the missionaries showed up at our place. I was immediately not very interested, just because of what I knew about the church and how members seems so hardcore and restricted. I was polite and invited them into our lives anyway.
But as we got to know the church, we loved it. We loved it enough to start making changes in our lives so we could be baptized.
And I’m actually really happy and proud to be able to now say that I am a Mormon.
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