A Child's
Search for Truth
by Sherry
Chiles
"The church
is true." I'd heard that said several times since I began attending
primary with our neighbors, the Brewers. Although my family wasn't
religious by any means, and I had never had contact with any other
religion, those words triggered something in my young mind. Our
next door neighbors were Mormons, I knew that..... but just what
was it that made them different from any other religious person?
When Carol invited
me to attend primary, I was happy to go along with their family.
Carol had something I loved more than anything.... BABIES! Any chance
I had to spend near the Brewer Family almost assured me a chance
to hold, rock and cuddle a baby. It didn't take long for me to realize
there was something more at primary. I loved the stories of Jesus,
loved the spirit I felt there, loved the kids and the teachers.
Primary was a positive thing in my life.
"...........
and I bear you my testimony that the Church is true..." There were
those words again! I was normally a shy child and never asked questions
or spoke out, but before I realized it my hand was raised. "Yes,
Sherry?" the teacher was looking right at me, along with the half
dozen other kids in the room.
I swallowed
hard, barely able to form the words and knowing how foolish I must
sound, "How do we know the church is true?"
Now at 10 years
old, I didn't have a clue at how significant that question was,
but I will never forget her answer.
The teacher
paused for only a moment and then she told me "It really doesn't
matter what I or anyone else may tell you. When you find the true
church you will feel it in your heart."
"You will feel
it in your heart"...... something about that sank deep into my soul,
and unexplainably I knew exactly what she meant. I would feel it
in my heart and my mind would know.
I somehow managed
to get up the nerve to continue my questioning, "Would it be OK
to go to other churches?"
"Yes, you should
go to church with some of your other friends and when you find what
is right for you, you will feel it."
Within weeks
I began my searching for the true church (at the time I believed
that "true church" could be different for each individual. That
must be why there were so many different churches. I just needed
to find mine.
The Catholic
church was one of the first I visited, with my good friend Kim.
Her dad was the high school principal, and I figured he must be
smart and know which church would be true.
However, I found
the Catholic church to be dark, and scary. I didn't understand much
of what was being said.... and later when I asked Kim about it,
she didn't either.
After that I
went a few times to a Baptist church, and to a non-denominational
Christian church. I remember thinking during one loud sermon, "Why
is he yelling at us, and why all the talk of hell?" I felt hell
was not an appropriate topic for church. Where was the warm good
feeling I got at Primary? I just felt uncomfortable and wanted the
service to end quickly.
Sometime later
on, our Primary had a Father/Daughter dinner. I was so excited about
it, but worried that my Daddy would never agree to go. He was NOT
the church going type Daddy. Much to my delight, Daddy and I did
attend the dinner. I remember seeing my Dad bow his head during
the prayer, and at that precise moment the Holy Ghost warmed me
through and through. There was the feeling, there was the knowledge.
This church that we were seated in was the "True" church.
About a year
later, we moved away and my contact with the church ended. It seemed
as I got older, thoughts of church and spiritual things slipped
out of my life and I never really thought much about it again.
As a young teen
I attend a few young women's activities with friends, but nothing
exceptional happened to draw me in.
Years later,
in the early years of my marriage, my husband's family became involved
in a non-denominational Christian church. We attended church with
them quite often, and had weekly Bible studies. It was nice, but
again.... there was never an especially spiritual feeling there
for me.
After our second
child was born, we continued attending church but it wasn't a pleasant
experience for me. I never felt touched by the sermons, and at times
felt uncomfortable and disbelieving. I took this a weakness in myself.
As Jamie began to crawl it was increasingly hard to keep her still
and quiet during church services. I began to decline going to church.
One Sunday morning my husband and I got into an argument over attending
church. He felt we should and I just plainly did not want to go.
During our conversation I heard myself telling him "if we are going
to go through all this (meaning handling the baby, etc.) we should
at least be going to the real church!"
Cliff's eyes
opened in surprise. "What do you mean the "real" church?"
I had to stop
to think about what it was I did mean. "Well, I mean the Mormon
church." I honestly didn't know at that point exactly what it was
I was saying, but I know I felt that if my time was being taken
up at church and we were giving money to a church it should at least
be a church that gave us that warm, secure feeling I had experienced
as a child in Primary.
"You are crazy!"
Cliff said in disgust. He made a few remarks about Mormons being
clannish, and that they wouldn't even want us there. Then he walked
away. I think I ended up going to church with him a few more times,
but soon other things came into our lives and once again church
was a thing of the past.
The kids attended
Bible school in the summers, and my daughters both attended children's
Bible studies from time to time, but Cliff and I never discussed
going to church again.
Cliff again
saw where my allegiance was when during 8th grade our oldest daughter
was recommended to take part in summer activities for "A" students.
She brought home a list of summer programs and wanted desperately
to be able to attend one. EFY was one of the programs offered, and
I wanted to send her! Candace went and had a great time, she learned
a lot about the church and while there filled out a card for the
missionaries to come to us.
That didn't
happen right away, in fact Candace was a junior in high school when
the first missionaries came. They were sister missionaries who were
very nice and polite, and they asked if we would like to hear more
about the church. We agreed but they never returned.
A year later,
in the fall of 1993, after a night of sincere prayer and supplication
to my Heavenly Father I opened the door to find Elder and Sister
Steed smiling at me.
I wish I could
say I embraced them immediately, but I was a bit more difficult
than that. It was not because I doubted anything they were teaching
us, but only that I doubted my ability to live up to it. Thankfully,
they knew where my heart was, and persisted until I accepted baptism.
One month later my two youngest children were baptized. six months
later my husband also accepted baptism, although his true conversion
was much slower in coming. My oldest daughter took the discussions
again two years later and was baptized in Feb 1996.
My testimony
grows each day, but I know it began in a primary class with a loving
teacher that included and cared about all the children.... even
the non-members.
Sherry Chiles
Primary President
Naturita Branch,
Naturita, Colorado
Editors'
Note: Submit your missionary stories to our Meridian Missionary
Journal editor, Peggy Proctor at missionaryjournal@meridianmagazine.com
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