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I sat in another Fast and Testimony meeting on Sunday. My neck was bobbing back and forth as I listened to a blonde girl testify of her life changing experience because of a boiler that caught on fire. When she finished, there was a pause, I thought of this essay that I had worked on for weeks. I got up and walked to the front of the west ballroom and gripped the sides of the podium.
After explaining the concept of the Writing Center “Blood Essay,” I told the entire congregation about my “missing faith.” I related to them my redefined concept of faith.
“Faith is a hope. I do not know if it is real, but I hope that it is. I hope God hears me. I hope Jesus is the Christ. And I hope Joseph Smith saw them.”
The next day was our closing ward social. I was the activities coordinator, so I was required to be there early. The tables and chairs were set and the food ready to go. I arranged for the bishop to bring a whole roasted pig as the main course. I stood in the back admiring the reactions of the people who took picture after picture of the roasted pig with their cell phones. Suddenly, I felt an arm resting around my shoulder. I looked to my left and saw Bishop Scott smiling at their reactions too.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“I think it is going to be a great party,” I responded.
He looked at me in the eyes and said, “I meant with what you said in your testimony yesterday.”
“Oh that. Well it is something I have struggled with for the past year.”
He began relating to me a life story and talked about Moroni’s definition of faith found in the Book of Mormon. I don’t remember exactly what he said; I just smiled and thanked him for bringing the pig.