A Haunting Day in My Life

I have heard and read that when writing about your life you should not just include the things that make you look good. You should include the less than positive experiences that will make the reader know that you were human, that you made mistakes, and that hopefully you learned from those mistakes. I've mentioned several of those mistakes already, but I want to include an experience that I had at this point in my life that I will always remember with regret.

I had been taking cello lessons from an older man from a foreign country (I don't know which one but it could have been Germany because of the accent.) He lived alone on the northwest part of town in an old, old, dreary dark house. I really didn't enjoy going there, but he was an excellent player, but not that good a teacher. He was first cellist in the Utah Symphony Orchestra and seemed to have little patience for us less talented and less committed students. And he had a dislike for Mormons as I discovered one day when he began talking very negatively about the Church and its' members during my lesson. Then he turned to me and said, "You're not one of them are you?" Instead of standing tall and defending my beliefs, I began making excuses like, "Well, my parents are Mormons so I didn't have a say in where I went to church"...or something like that. As soon as the words were out of my mouth I began to feel terrible, but still wasn't valiant enough to correct what I had said. Although I was just fifteen, I did have a growing testimony of the church thanks to the teachings and strong testimonies of my mom and dad. Had I personally studied and prayed for a testimony of my own? Not really...not yet. I think I felt like the apostle Peter must have felt after denying Christ three times. And here in a different but similar circumstance I was doing the same thing. My thoughts also went to the prophet Joseph Smith who at the age of fourteen was spiritually mature enough to be permitted to actually see and talk to the Father and the Son. He had studied and inquired of the Lord for answers to his questions. He had paid the price at the age of fourteen. I will never forget how I felt that day. But the positive thing that came from this experience was that committed that day to pay the price to get my own personal conviction of the truthfulness of the restored gospel and not to depend so heavily on the testimony of my parents, especially my mother.

I continued to take lessons for a short while until one day as I was on the bus on the way to my lesson when I had a strong impression not to go. I got off the bus to make a transfer as I had always done when that strong feeling came again not to get on the next bus but to go back home. At this point I listened and obeyed and never went back. I don't know what would have happened if I had ignored that prompting and never will. But knowing the spirit that I had felt while in that home taking lessons, I knew the Lord was warning me of some impending danger if I continued to go.

Once again I reflected on my patriarchal blessing and its' promise that I would be "protected from evil designing men and women" all the days of my life. I truly believe that it was the Lord keeping His promise to me that day. And as I thanked Him that night in my prayers, I had a feeling of great peace knowing that He still loved me and had forgiven me.