How I Became a Mormon
It all started with one question,"Can we talk to you for 5 minutes?"
It was December of 1981 when my father first met the full-time missionaries in Cebu City, Philippines. He was sweeping the front yard of my aunt's house when the missionaries approached him. "Hey brother! Can we talk to you for 5 minutes?", they asked. If you've met my father, you wouldn't be surprised how cheerfully he accepted this invitation. The funny thing is, my father only thought of it as an opportunity to practice his English skills. What he didn't know was that the missionaries had a different purpose in mind. That fateful meeting was the beginning of a wonderful journey for my father and the rest of the family.
The missionaries continued their visits, and my parents were consequently baptized in February, 1982. Like many new converts, my father was on fire. He frequently went out with the missionaries to visit other members and was engaged in many church activities. He was later called to serve as the ward mission leader of what was then the Cebu 1st Ward.
It would be nice to say that my father's conversion immediately lead to our happily ever after. However, that wouldn't be true. My father's active participation in church was interrupted when he was assigned to work in Surigao City. It became a challenge to my father's commitment. A test of faith, as they say.
Fortunately, my father didn't stay in Surigao for a long time. After his assignment was completed, he moved back to Cebu City. It may just have been circumstantial, but I believe that the Lord lead him back to where he first met the missionaries so that he can return to church activity.
Coming back to church was not easy. I remember my father's story of running away from missionaries whenever they came to visit. They were persistent in inviting him to church, but my father was also determined in finding different escapes. He said that one time he jumped off a window when he heard the missionaries at the door. (Now I know where I got my sneakiness from. Hahaha!) I am grateful for those missionaries because they chased after him and never gave up. Although he had some hesitations, my father knew it was time to go back to church. I know the Lord was mindful of my father's dilemma and made a way for him to meet an old friend, Bro. Yosores, who was instrumental in my father's journey back to full activity.
I grew up in the gospel because my father had the courage to make necessary changes in his life. You see, this is not just a story about my father's conversion. His choice to talk to those missionaries for 5 minutes did not just change his life. It changed mine as well and I'm eternally grateful for it.
It was December of 1981 when my father first met the full-time missionaries in Cebu City, Philippines. He was sweeping the front yard of my aunt's house when the missionaries approached him. "Hey brother! Can we talk to you for 5 minutes?", they asked. If you've met my father, you wouldn't be surprised how cheerfully he accepted this invitation. The funny thing is, my father only thought of it as an opportunity to practice his English skills. What he didn't know was that the missionaries had a different purpose in mind. That fateful meeting was the beginning of a wonderful journey for my father and the rest of the family.
The missionaries continued their visits, and my parents were consequently baptized in February, 1982. Like many new converts, my father was on fire. He frequently went out with the missionaries to visit other members and was engaged in many church activities. He was later called to serve as the ward mission leader of what was then the Cebu 1st Ward.
It would be nice to say that my father's conversion immediately lead to our happily ever after. However, that wouldn't be true. My father's active participation in church was interrupted when he was assigned to work in Surigao City. It became a challenge to my father's commitment. A test of faith, as they say.
Fortunately, my father didn't stay in Surigao for a long time. After his assignment was completed, he moved back to Cebu City. It may just have been circumstantial, but I believe that the Lord lead him back to where he first met the missionaries so that he can return to church activity.
Coming back to church was not easy. I remember my father's story of running away from missionaries whenever they came to visit. They were persistent in inviting him to church, but my father was also determined in finding different escapes. He said that one time he jumped off a window when he heard the missionaries at the door. (Now I know where I got my sneakiness from. Hahaha!) I am grateful for those missionaries because they chased after him and never gave up. Although he had some hesitations, my father knew it was time to go back to church. I know the Lord was mindful of my father's dilemma and made a way for him to meet an old friend, Bro. Yosores, who was instrumental in my father's journey back to full activity.I grew up in the gospel because my father had the courage to make necessary changes in his life. You see, this is not just a story about my father's conversion. His choice to talk to those missionaries for 5 minutes did not just change his life. It changed mine as well and I'm eternally grateful for it.
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