Hello! I would like to introduce myself to start off my mission blog! My conversion story and the influence of my family has deeply impacted my decision to serve a mission so I feel it is only appropriate I talk about both in my first post.
As you can assume from the title I am going to be talking about plants today, along with faith and how the two went hand-in-hand to allow me to find myself and my testimony. (Trust me it’ll make sense later, just keep reading.) Growing up my favorite flower had always been the Lily flower, for obvious reasons like that it is beautiful and we share the same name, but as I got older and faced life’s trials it became a symbol of strength, purity and resilience to me.
Let me elaborate on this.
Fun fact: did you know the Lily flower is a perennial plant? This meaning that it can survive longer than most plants. This is due to the flower’s strength and ability to adapt in harsh conditions to get the nutrients essential to its survival. Living in a home being the only member of the LDS faith and it being difficult to exercise faith. I often felt as though I had to pull out of any resources I could to maintain my own faith. And trust me it was HARD. Even when having influences that encourage you to go to church, read your scriptures, say your prayers, etc. it can be a challenge to do consecutively. Now imagine having influences that teach otherwise. The struggle I faced to continue to have the desire to work towards strengthening my testimony got difficult and often times I got tired of trying. I lost sight of who I was, got used to not feeling the spirit and had almost forgotten my testimony. I often defaulted to discouragement. Determined to hold steadfast to what I knew, I constantly looked for inspiration. I came across an article in the June 2011 Ensign with the Title: The Prison and the Dandelion. A specific section of the article was based on a missionary that faced difficult times while on their mission and was inspired when reading the phrase “Bloom where you are planted”. Now this phrase hit me like a brick and I knew I needed to hear those words in that moment. I couldn’t resort to becoming a prisoner of discouragement. I had to adapt and learn how to bloom and grow within the circumstances I was faced with, just as the Lily flower had done.
As I’m sure you can assume at this point I am LDS and this is my conversion story.
I was raised in a home that wasn’t very religious. We would erratically attend a religion at the time. (Out of respect for the religion I would like to keep it private.) I was very involved and constantly seeking to understand more. I had so many questions and few seemed to be able to answer them. Not even my own parents, but I was curious. I wanted to know it was all true. Being so young I couldn’t imagine there being any other religion than the one I attended at the time. This was all I had ever known and I was content with it but I didn’t know if it was true. I was introduced to the LDS faith as a 7-year-old girl. Extended family members had investigated the church when moving to Utah and were later baptized. My first experience with the church was indescribable. I was only 7 years old and to this day I can’t describe the way it felt. The spirit was so strong but I didn’t know what I was feeling I just knew I couldn’t let it go. As I got older I continued to go to church with these extended family members and asked to be baptized at 8 years old. It wasn’t until then that my family realized how involved I was in the religion. They were shocked and quickly pulled me away from the church out of fear of the unknown and back into the church they attended except this time it was consistent. It was hard, I was so young and even then I knew I couldn’t live without the feelings of peace and love felt in my time spent in the LDS church. Why couldn’t I just let it go? But soon I did. And the further away I was taken from it, the easier it was to forget it all. And so I did.
My last year of Junior High I met my best friend, Rocio. Rocio had this light about her and we were so drawn to each other and got along surprisingly well. We bonded quickly being the only Latinas in our honors classes. She ended up inviting me to church. “Sure!” I thought. I love church! The feelings I felt when I walked into her LDS ward building caught me by surprise, I couldn’t help but feel so emotional. This was it. This was the church I had attended as a little girl. I recognized these feelings. At this point in my life I was 13 years old and my parents were going through a tough divorce. It’s almost like it aligned perfectly. I had prayed and prayed for strength and comfort for so long. Walking into that building I knew I had found both. I can’t let it go. I thought again and again. I was determined to help my family feel this way.
For anyone who is reading this and isn’t familiar with the LDS church there is something called “fast Sunday”. This is typically the first Sunday of the month where LDS members are encouraged to go up to the pulpit the first hour of church and share personal experiences, feelings and testify of our personal beliefs of the church; a testimony. I had somehow managed to get both of my parents who at the time couldn’t even stand being in the same room together to attend this meeting. Now was my chance. I went up and said everything I had felt and for the first time in my life I bore my testimony to my parents. Nervous to see their reactions I found their faces in the crowd with tears streaming down their faces. They felt it. That same night they pulled me aside and gave me permission to be baptized.
My baptism was one of the most memorable and special days of my life. But different trials followed that event. My parents’ divorce lead to my mother’s new relationship with a man who was not very fond of the LDS church. Nonetheless, he loved God and investigated many churches and as long as I was living in their home I too was expected to attend these churches. It was difficult for me because I was a recent convert in awe of the gospel and wanted so badly to attend church. But out of respect for my mother and this man that treated us so well and loved her, I focused on that. I never question why I had to go through that because I learned so much about so many religions. Once again I will not name any out of respect to them but I got to meet amazing, God-loving people who impacted my life immensely. I gave every religion the same opportunity I gave the LDS religion and still it nurtured the testimony I already had of the LDS faith. I am so grateful for that time. But I still knew what I believed, when I turned 18 I let my mother know I had made up my mind since I was 14 and was assured of the truthfulness of the gospel throughout my life. It was difficult for my mother. She loves me and wants what is best for me and we had different opinions of what that was. Nonetheless we continue to love and respect one another and our beliefs. It’s more than I could ever ask for.
This is a blog for anyone who is the only member in their family. And not just of the LDS faith but of any faith! Even people who might be the only person without a religion in their home. I am not a spokesperson for the LDS church, I am in no way typing this out to make any effort to make you, the reader, believe this just because I do. I do not desire to degrade from any religion or trying to compare one to the other, this is my personal experience and testimony and that is the main message of my post; find where your heart is! Have the courage to go and seek truth. You’ll know it when you find it, search diligently and have an open heart, I testify of that. Serving a mission and having the opportunity to help others come to feel the way I did is the best thing I can imagine myself doing for the next 18 months.
Lastly, this is a blog for my parents who I love and appreciate so much for always striving to teach me that God comes first, that He is real and that He loves me. Although it can be hard to believe in a different religion than your parents, it is a humbling experience for my parents and I. To my parents I would like to extend a hand of gratitude and say, thank you for allowing me to be courageous enough to go seek a relationship with God, for making me resilient, hardworking, and patient in my trials. For really making me work to defend what I believe. Thank you for allowing me to learn what it truly means to bloom where I have been planted. Mom and dad, this is for you.
I love you.
Hermana Tapia