Journey to Truth

“Journey to Truth,” Ensign, Oct. 1992, 28–29

Journey to Truth

Sunlight glistened from the mountaintops the day my buddy and I drove into Utah in late July 1988. A few days before, in New Mexico, he had convinced me to go with him on a vacation to Utah. My friend was a Mormon, and I had been staying with his family for a while. Little did I realize then that the trip would change my life.

In Salt Lake City, we visited Temple Square, where I received a copy of the Book of Mormon. I was glad to add it to my library; at the time I was a student of many different religious philosophies, having almost completely lost confidence in Christianity. I had failed to see anyone who even tried to live up to the teachings of Christ.

The only ones who I felt measured up had been my parents. My dad, who had died in 1973, had been a Baptist minister who often held a job while trying to raise a family and establish a church in an unfriendly area. After work he would visit homes, where he would pray for the sick and proclaim Jesus as the Christ. I often saw tears roll down his cheeks as he spoke of the Savior’s sufferings.

More than a year after my visit to Salt Lake, I had a strange dream. I was sitting in the midst of a testimony meeting. Now, I had been to many of these as a boy, but nothing like this one. Everyone was dressed in white robes. They went to and from a podium testifying of a book and of a gospel that had transformed their lives. I wondered at this and turned to my father, who was sitting next to me.

He was also dressed in a white robe and had his Bible clutched in his hand. Seeing the question on my face, he looked at me intently and pointed to his Bible. “The kingdom of God is coming soon,” he said. “The kingdom of God is coming soon.” Then I woke up, wondering what he meant.

I went into the living room, where my buddy’s mother—I called her my Mormon mother—was sitting. I told her about my dream and asked her what she thought it meant. She told me to read the Book of Mormon and pray about it, and that would give me my answer.

A few days passed, then my buddy and I left once again to visit Utah. As I rode along, I opened the Book of Mormon and began to read. Almost immediately I found that I could not put it down. I felt a strange stirring within, and I knew that this was not just another book of philosophy. This was something different, something wonderful. I remembered the words of my “Mormon mother” and decided to pray.

My parents had taught me always to kneel when I pray, so although it was somewhat of a trick in a moving truck, I knelt to pray. When the answer came, I felt great joy. I knew that the book was true! I knew all of it was true! It was the word of God.

So many wonderful things have happened since I started my journey to truth. I was baptized and have now received the Melchizedek Priesthood. I pray daily that God will use me to bless others. I have received my endowment and have done the work for my father. I felt him near me on those days in the temple, and I believe that he, too, has begun his journey to truth.