Came across this talk from 2011 in some old email files. I'm sure I must have posted it before when it was current, but I think it's a pretty nice story, so enjoy!
Hello Brothers & Sisters, I’m Amber Hughes. My husband and I recently moved into the ward at the end of the year just before the holidayss. This new ward has brought us a lot of happiness, your thoughts and insights on matters of the heart and spirituality have been a very welcome home for us. This New Year has also given us a lot to celebrate. January 9th was the year anniversary of our first date (which I had to trick Jordan into taking me on!), seven days after that was our first kiss and two days after that was the first time we went to Taco Bell together… no, just kidding! You know how we girls are, we remember and celebrate everything! February 14th was Valentines Day for everyone else, but for us it was even more special; our six month wedding anniversary. The 25th was a personal milestone for me, as I reached my two years sobriety mark! And next month we will be visiting the Salt Lake Temple to commemorate my two year anniversary as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
It was February 2009 when I met Elder Rowley and Elder Stevens in a park outside my house. I had just moved back home to California from a three year stint in Boston. I had turned 25 at the beginning of the month and was back home to re-access my priorities and get my life on track. I had enrolled at a nearby college and was studying in the park when two absolutely adorable boys sporting deacon style short sleeve and tie combo approached me. I knew right away that they were missionaries. They asked me what else I knew about them, the church, the gospel of Jesus Christ and Gods plan. We talked in the sun for a little over a half hour before they invited me to church on Sunday. (I later learned that they had jumped the gun—skipping the whole first meet and greet, initial lesson, the giving me a Book of Mormon to study and ponder part and then asking me to attend a sacrament meeting. They went with their gut- or what I would later come to know as ‘The Spirit,’ and extended an eager invite.) So when I showed up to church the very next day, well that would explain why their jaws hit the floor… that or they’d never seen a girl in a sleeveless, mid-thigh summer dress in church before! Which was the style a Southern California native was accustomed to. Looking back, though I didn’t have much in the way of “church appropriate” clothing, I probably could’ve dug deep and found at least a cardigan somewhere.
During Sacrament that day I sat next to the two missionaries whom I would soon endearingly be calling, “my missionaries.” Following Sacrament we went to the Cultural Hall where I drilled them with all the questions I had come up with in the mere 20 or so hours since I’d first met them. Three hours of non-stop questioning. And that was just day one!
I had questions about everything from dinosaurs to ghosts, angels and spirits, the commandments, life before and after this life, human goodness and its relation or non-relation to God, LIFE – in general, all my sins, all my goodness, evolution, monkeys, science…
And this was just the tip of the iceberg. These missionaries were just two poor stowaways on the Titanic unable to see yet, the girth of the iceberg below the surface. However they soon proved just how up for the challenge they were!
After that Sunday I began meeting with Elders Rowley and Stevens every Monday and Wednesday as well as studying with them for the three hour block at church on Sundays. Within a few weeks I’d started having them and their companions over for lunch as often as I could fit in between work and school. At the end of each day I’d receive a phone call so they could answer what questions I might have come up with throughout the days I didn’t see them.
I am sure that if you asked my missionaries what their biggest struggle with me was, they would not say it was the questions. The questions, no matter how silly or completely beyond reason they may have sometimes been, were a sign that I was open to hearing what they had to say. The fact that I was still taking their calls and visits, a sure sign I was absorbing the teachings and growing. If asked what they and I struggled with the most—they would explain that I had a clear understanding of God, even accepted a creationist theory, but simply wanted nothing to do with it.
I don’t believe it had anything to do with pride, as a statement like that may sound so prideful. How can you accept the possibility of a god, yet want nothing to do with him or the plan he has created for you? It wasn’t pride, I think it was something much less than that…
You see—I was raised very loosely Catholic, but I was raised with the teachings that God created this world, sent his son Jesus to die for us and save us from the damnation of our sins and as it says in John 3:16,
“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
I was raised to know that if I followed Gods plan I could go to live in Heaven when I died. I was taught that in Heaven we got to be with God and everyone whom we had ever loved would be there. Heaven was the happiest of happinesses.
But I didn’t want it.
I wasn’t too proud to believe in a god or even admit that I believed in thee God. I believed in God. I believed in Heaven. I believed in Hell. But I simply believed God existed for those who needed Him. For those who needed a reason. A reason for this life, for those who needed a deeper meaning, an explanation for this chaotic place we were all born into. For me, I felt life in and of itself was good enough. I for whatever cataclysmic or divine reason had been given life; born with parents to take care of me, air to breathe and a great puzzle to piece together. For me, this was enough. I didn’t need more. I had unexplainably been granted, if I was lucky, a good 80 or so years here on Earth to do with as I pleased. To want anything more was selfish. To desire an afterlife, even one so beautifully described as Heaven, was taking advantage of this God who created me. How can anyone ask for any more than we have already been given?
All I wanted after this life was not to exist. If Heaven existed, well that was great—for those who wanted it, and Hell, sure, good—for those who deserved it. But me, my ideal Heaven would be total nothingness. True death. I didn’t want a second chance or even a continuation of this life beyond the veil. I wasn’t sure I had even asked for this life now and I wasn’t about to go asking for more.
Elder Rowley and Elder Stevens assured me I WAS WRONG. God existed whether we needed Him to or not. And I was here because I chose to be. They explained to me the pre-mortal existence. Taught me that in a world before this one, I had been of the 2/3’s of Gods spirit children who had chosen to follow and obey His path. It was evident by the physical body that sat before them that I had in fact asked to be here.
All the things they had spoken to me about since day one had always seemed plausible, even possible, but now it was all starting to make sense. I had always believed in something like a pre-mortal existence. I was never able to believe that God had just zapped souls into existence at any certain given point during pregnancy or birth. It had always seemed to me that the great depth of people’s souls was never any kind of accident, but rather a well thought out plan. So this explained how I got HERE. But how did I get THERE? I wasn’t zapped into creation on Earth. I had chosen which side I’d show my loyalties to and was rewarded and challenged at the same time with a body and an earthly life. But when did I ever choose to be created as a spirit child?
Are you still with me? Tough question, right? Imagine the look on my missionaries faces when I came up with that one; after all the headway they believed they were making with me! I came to Earth because I chose to in the Spirit World, but what pre-pre-mortal world had I come from in the first place? It’s like a kid asking for a reason why he can’t have a cookie and his parent only answers, “Because I said so.” What does that mean!?
Well, by this point I had been learning about the celestial glories; degrees of Heaven and about Outer Darkness. It all matched the theories I had always believed in my own head. I knew all along that Heaven and Hell couldn’t be so black and white, so the degrees of glories and reasons God sent us to Earth all started making more and more sense.
There came a point though, where it all became too much. Just too overwhelming to believe the stories in The Book of Mormon my missionaries were having me read. All too unbelievable. It all had to be either entirely true or not true at all. One day I wrote in my journal;
“Today I am beginning to think I believe less in God than I did when we started this all.”
Elder Rowley was always telling me to slow down. There were some answers he couldn’t give me yet, some questions I may never know the answers to, not in this lifetime anyway. He said I was looking to learn the calculus without first understanding the simple math that would get me there eventually. I was overwhelmed because I was overloading myself. He insisted my curiosity was great, but I was driving myself in crazy circles with too many, ‘why’s.’I needed to first accept the beginnings of God before understanding the means to the end.
So I stuck with it and about two weeks before April 19th, at the end of one of my lessons, Elder Rowley slowly said to me, “Amber will you commit to be baptized on April 19th?” I think the room fell to a dead silence as he and Elder Stevens, Missi, Katie and Leslie (three sisters who had been with me since my second lesson) all held their breath waiting for my response. Well, I am standing here before you, right? So I must’ve said ‘yes.’
I didn’t.
I thought for about thirty seconds before said “no.” I could not do what he asked. It may have been the first time in 2 months I had said no to either one of my missionaries. And I thought he must have been crazy to ask me that question. He was asking for a huge commitment—a commitment I wasn’t ready for. I really had to question… Was this what I wanted? For myself? For my future family? Would I, could I, be happy to support my young sons one day going on a mission? My daughters being sealed in a temple ceremony in which my side of family would be excluded? How would this action of baptism change my life? How would this word, “Mormon” change the way people viewed me. My friends whom I’d shared many a drunken nights with? My gay sister who I’ve always protected? My parents who believed they’d already brought God to me when I was little? How would this change me and how would it affect all of them?
Never had I committed to anyone or anything so huge in my entire 25 years of life. I’d always left and escape route, never given my heart completely. It wasn’t for fear of being hurt, I had a solid belief in the innate goodness of people. But God wasn’t a person I could have a conversation with, test His credibility. It was a commitment I’d have to make with my heart.
When I was baptized on Sunday April 26th, only one week from the date my missionaries had originally tried to commit me, I didn’t know if the church was true. I didn’t know if God truly existed. I didn’t even know if what I was doing was right. But I felt something strongly telling me it was okay. So I jumped. I took a leap of faith.
In a book my husband got me for Christmas, Velvet Elvis, author Rob Bell compares it to jumping on a trampoline. Not one of those dinky ones you use for aerobics, but a nice big one that takes up a good portion of your backyard because the trampoline is Christ’s gospel. He says,
“You enjoy it, you tell others about it and you invite them to enjoy it with you” p. 27
“And saying yes to the invitation doesn’t mean you have it all figured out. I can jump and still have questions and doubts.” p. 28
“The invitation to jump is an invitation to follow Jesus with all our doubts and questions right there with us.” p. 28
He understands what I hadn’t yet—which is that the truth may not come all at once, it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. It’s okay not to know the calculus sometimes, Amber.
Elder Neil L. Anderson says it well;
“Challenges, difficulties, doubt—these are all part of our mortality.”
He continues that;
“Fear and faith can co-exist in our hearts at the same time.”
“In our days of difficulty we [must] choose the road of faith.”
That leap I took, it took a lot of faith. And others may not understand the road I’ve chosen or the changes I’ve made based on one small truth.
I may not have known it all then and I certainly don’t know it all now. But I know enough.
I know God exists.
Being baptized was the most selfish and selfless thing I’ve ever done.
I did it for me.
I did it for God.
I leave these thoughts with you in the name of Jesus Christ. AMEN.
Hello Brothers & Sisters, I’m Amber Hughes. My husband and I recently moved into the ward at the end of the year just before the holidayss. This new ward has brought us a lot of happiness, your thoughts and insights on matters of the heart and spirituality have been a very welcome home for us. This New Year has also given us a lot to celebrate. January 9th was the year anniversary of our first date (which I had to trick Jordan into taking me on!), seven days after that was our first kiss and two days after that was the first time we went to Taco Bell together… no, just kidding! You know how we girls are, we remember and celebrate everything! February 14th was Valentines Day for everyone else, but for us it was even more special; our six month wedding anniversary. The 25th was a personal milestone for me, as I reached my two years sobriety mark! And next month we will be visiting the Salt Lake Temple to commemorate my two year anniversary as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.
It was February 2009 when I met Elder Rowley and Elder Stevens in a park outside my house. I had just moved back home to California from a three year stint in Boston. I had turned 25 at the beginning of the month and was back home to re-access my priorities and get my life on track. I had enrolled at a nearby college and was studying in the park when two absolutely adorable boys sporting deacon style short sleeve and tie combo approached me. I knew right away that they were missionaries. They asked me what else I knew about them, the church, the gospel of Jesus Christ and Gods plan. We talked in the sun for a little over a half hour before they invited me to church on Sunday. (I later learned that they had jumped the gun—skipping the whole first meet and greet, initial lesson, the giving me a Book of Mormon to study and ponder part and then asking me to attend a sacrament meeting. They went with their gut- or what I would later come to know as ‘The Spirit,’ and extended an eager invite.) So when I showed up to church the very next day, well that would explain why their jaws hit the floor… that or they’d never seen a girl in a sleeveless, mid-thigh summer dress in church before! Which was the style a Southern California native was accustomed to. Looking back, though I didn’t have much in the way of “church appropriate” clothing, I probably could’ve dug deep and found at least a cardigan somewhere.
During Sacrament that day I sat next to the two missionaries whom I would soon endearingly be calling, “my missionaries.” Following Sacrament we went to the Cultural Hall where I drilled them with all the questions I had come up with in the mere 20 or so hours since I’d first met them. Three hours of non-stop questioning. And that was just day one!
I had questions about everything from dinosaurs to ghosts, angels and spirits, the commandments, life before and after this life, human goodness and its relation or non-relation to God, LIFE – in general, all my sins, all my goodness, evolution, monkeys, science…
And this was just the tip of the iceberg. These missionaries were just two poor stowaways on the Titanic unable to see yet, the girth of the iceberg below the surface. However they soon proved just how up for the challenge they were!
After that Sunday I began meeting with Elders Rowley and Stevens every Monday and Wednesday as well as studying with them for the three hour block at church on Sundays. Within a few weeks I’d started having them and their companions over for lunch as often as I could fit in between work and school. At the end of each day I’d receive a phone call so they could answer what questions I might have come up with throughout the days I didn’t see them.
I am sure that if you asked my missionaries what their biggest struggle with me was, they would not say it was the questions. The questions, no matter how silly or completely beyond reason they may have sometimes been, were a sign that I was open to hearing what they had to say. The fact that I was still taking their calls and visits, a sure sign I was absorbing the teachings and growing. If asked what they and I struggled with the most—they would explain that I had a clear understanding of God, even accepted a creationist theory, but simply wanted nothing to do with it.
I don’t believe it had anything to do with pride, as a statement like that may sound so prideful. How can you accept the possibility of a god, yet want nothing to do with him or the plan he has created for you? It wasn’t pride, I think it was something much less than that…
You see—I was raised very loosely Catholic, but I was raised with the teachings that God created this world, sent his son Jesus to die for us and save us from the damnation of our sins and as it says in John 3:16,
“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
I was raised to know that if I followed Gods plan I could go to live in Heaven when I died. I was taught that in Heaven we got to be with God and everyone whom we had ever loved would be there. Heaven was the happiest of happinesses.
But I didn’t want it.
I wasn’t too proud to believe in a god or even admit that I believed in thee God. I believed in God. I believed in Heaven. I believed in Hell. But I simply believed God existed for those who needed Him. For those who needed a reason. A reason for this life, for those who needed a deeper meaning, an explanation for this chaotic place we were all born into. For me, I felt life in and of itself was good enough. I for whatever cataclysmic or divine reason had been given life; born with parents to take care of me, air to breathe and a great puzzle to piece together. For me, this was enough. I didn’t need more. I had unexplainably been granted, if I was lucky, a good 80 or so years here on Earth to do with as I pleased. To want anything more was selfish. To desire an afterlife, even one so beautifully described as Heaven, was taking advantage of this God who created me. How can anyone ask for any more than we have already been given?
All I wanted after this life was not to exist. If Heaven existed, well that was great—for those who wanted it, and Hell, sure, good—for those who deserved it. But me, my ideal Heaven would be total nothingness. True death. I didn’t want a second chance or even a continuation of this life beyond the veil. I wasn’t sure I had even asked for this life now and I wasn’t about to go asking for more.
Elder Rowley and Elder Stevens assured me I WAS WRONG. God existed whether we needed Him to or not. And I was here because I chose to be. They explained to me the pre-mortal existence. Taught me that in a world before this one, I had been of the 2/3’s of Gods spirit children who had chosen to follow and obey His path. It was evident by the physical body that sat before them that I had in fact asked to be here.
All the things they had spoken to me about since day one had always seemed plausible, even possible, but now it was all starting to make sense. I had always believed in something like a pre-mortal existence. I was never able to believe that God had just zapped souls into existence at any certain given point during pregnancy or birth. It had always seemed to me that the great depth of people’s souls was never any kind of accident, but rather a well thought out plan. So this explained how I got HERE. But how did I get THERE? I wasn’t zapped into creation on Earth. I had chosen which side I’d show my loyalties to and was rewarded and challenged at the same time with a body and an earthly life. But when did I ever choose to be created as a spirit child?
Are you still with me? Tough question, right? Imagine the look on my missionaries faces when I came up with that one; after all the headway they believed they were making with me! I came to Earth because I chose to in the Spirit World, but what pre-pre-mortal world had I come from in the first place? It’s like a kid asking for a reason why he can’t have a cookie and his parent only answers, “Because I said so.” What does that mean!?
Well, by this point I had been learning about the celestial glories; degrees of Heaven and about Outer Darkness. It all matched the theories I had always believed in my own head. I knew all along that Heaven and Hell couldn’t be so black and white, so the degrees of glories and reasons God sent us to Earth all started making more and more sense.
There came a point though, where it all became too much. Just too overwhelming to believe the stories in The Book of Mormon my missionaries were having me read. All too unbelievable. It all had to be either entirely true or not true at all. One day I wrote in my journal;
“Today I am beginning to think I believe less in God than I did when we started this all.”
Elder Rowley was always telling me to slow down. There were some answers he couldn’t give me yet, some questions I may never know the answers to, not in this lifetime anyway. He said I was looking to learn the calculus without first understanding the simple math that would get me there eventually. I was overwhelmed because I was overloading myself. He insisted my curiosity was great, but I was driving myself in crazy circles with too many, ‘why’s.’I needed to first accept the beginnings of God before understanding the means to the end.
So I stuck with it and about two weeks before April 19th, at the end of one of my lessons, Elder Rowley slowly said to me, “Amber will you commit to be baptized on April 19th?” I think the room fell to a dead silence as he and Elder Stevens, Missi, Katie and Leslie (three sisters who had been with me since my second lesson) all held their breath waiting for my response. Well, I am standing here before you, right? So I must’ve said ‘yes.’
I didn’t.
I thought for about thirty seconds before said “no.” I could not do what he asked. It may have been the first time in 2 months I had said no to either one of my missionaries. And I thought he must have been crazy to ask me that question. He was asking for a huge commitment—a commitment I wasn’t ready for. I really had to question… Was this what I wanted? For myself? For my future family? Would I, could I, be happy to support my young sons one day going on a mission? My daughters being sealed in a temple ceremony in which my side of family would be excluded? How would this action of baptism change my life? How would this word, “Mormon” change the way people viewed me. My friends whom I’d shared many a drunken nights with? My gay sister who I’ve always protected? My parents who believed they’d already brought God to me when I was little? How would this change me and how would it affect all of them?
Never had I committed to anyone or anything so huge in my entire 25 years of life. I’d always left and escape route, never given my heart completely. It wasn’t for fear of being hurt, I had a solid belief in the innate goodness of people. But God wasn’t a person I could have a conversation with, test His credibility. It was a commitment I’d have to make with my heart.
When I was baptized on Sunday April 26th, only one week from the date my missionaries had originally tried to commit me, I didn’t know if the church was true. I didn’t know if God truly existed. I didn’t even know if what I was doing was right. But I felt something strongly telling me it was okay. So I jumped. I took a leap of faith.
In a book my husband got me for Christmas, Velvet Elvis, author Rob Bell compares it to jumping on a trampoline. Not one of those dinky ones you use for aerobics, but a nice big one that takes up a good portion of your backyard because the trampoline is Christ’s gospel. He says,
“You enjoy it, you tell others about it and you invite them to enjoy it with you” p. 27
“And saying yes to the invitation doesn’t mean you have it all figured out. I can jump and still have questions and doubts.” p. 28
“The invitation to jump is an invitation to follow Jesus with all our doubts and questions right there with us.” p. 28
He understands what I hadn’t yet—which is that the truth may not come all at once, it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. It’s okay not to know the calculus sometimes, Amber.
Elder Neil L. Anderson says it well;
“Challenges, difficulties, doubt—these are all part of our mortality.”
He continues that;
“Fear and faith can co-exist in our hearts at the same time.”
“In our days of difficulty we [must] choose the road of faith.”
That leap I took, it took a lot of faith. And others may not understand the road I’ve chosen or the changes I’ve made based on one small truth.
I may not have known it all then and I certainly don’t know it all now. But I know enough.
I know God exists.
Being baptized was the most selfish and selfless thing I’ve ever done.
I did it for me.
I did it for God.
I leave these thoughts with you in the name of Jesus Christ. AMEN.
