Mission Stories - My Story

My story is closely related to my mission in many ways. Firstly, because the mission is kind of a continuation/sequel to my story, and secondly because my story became my most told story on my mission.

When I say "my story" I mean my conversion story, or the "how I came in contact with the Church". Because everyone asks (after hearing that I wasn't born mormon - how novel for a missionary! :P), I became very fluent in telling this story in all languages that I speak. For the sake of proving my claim, here it is. :)


So I was in England, I lived with my best friend, and one day she came home and said that she'd met some guys from a church. Didn't think anything of it. But a few days later there was a knock on the door, and the elders asked if Isabel was at home. I told them that she was at work, so they asked if they could talk to me a little bit. I said sure, so they told me who they were and their basic message about living prophets and Restoration - and I thought it was kind of interesting, I'm interested in religions etc... We talked for about fifteen minutes, and it was kind of cold so they asked if they could come back some other time and I said sure. They asked what my name was, and when I said "Inari" they looked at me funny and asked where I was from. I said I was from Finland, so they switched to Finnish and said that they were also both from Finland. Now I don't believe in coincidences, so it felt sort of like God was slapping me in the back of the head saying "pay attention!" So I did. They gave me the Book of Mormon and told me to read, so I did, and I found out that it was true. They taught me for about three weeks, and then I was baptised.


There are actually several versions all tailored slightly whether it was told to a member or an investigator, whether the situation called for seriousness or humour, and how much time there was and such. And then, because there is no other place this version will ever be told... Here is the full all-detail version:


This all starts when I was living in England, it was my last year of my Bachelors degree and I was sharing a flat with my best friend Isabel. She's from Brazil and she's Catholic. We used to live across the road from Catholic church and had been to church together at times. We'd also been to the Alpha course together (because they served free dinner!) but we had since moved house, and then just kind of got busy. We both had a sort of a casual "yeah there's a God" approach to religion - she was a bit more superstitious and careful ("you can't be out at midnight! That's the evil hour") and I was sort of a reckless "everything is okay, God protects me, and if stuff happens, it's meant to happen" -type. So we were comfortably religious one might say.

One day she came home and said that she had met some guys from a church. I said "cool" and didn't think anything of it. Then some time later there was a knock on the door and the mormon elders asked for Isabel (I didn't recognise them as mormons, or connect them to the "guys from church"). I told them that Isabel was at work. They asked if I had a moment to talk to them. I said sure, what of. They explained who they were and what they do, and taught me about the main message of the Restoration of the Gospel (Joseph Smith etc). And I listened thinking "okay, cool, this is interesting, I'm interested in different religions, and honestly... if I were God and had an important message to humanity, that's how I'd do it: I'd tell one guy and tell him to tell everyone else."

So we talked for about 15 minutes there by the door, it was February and I was wearing a skirt and a tanktop and no socks, so I started to get chilly, and I think they might have noticed because they asked if they could come back another time. I said sure. I had had the Jehovah's Witnesses visit me before and it wasn't dangerous back then, and when I'd got fed up of them I had ignored them until they stopped coming. So I felt prepared enough :P But overall it sounded rather interesting, so I welcomed them back.

They asked what my name was. I said "Inari." I had lived in England for over two years by now, and had learnt to mispronounce my own name as "I-nah-ri" for ease of understanding for the English people, but this time I just said it like its said in Finnish. And the elders kind of looked at me funny, then looked at each other and asked me where I was from. When I told them I was from Finland, they looked at each other again, and then switched to Finnish and said "we're also both from Finland." It was pretty funny. I had no idea. They had funky accents, but everyone in Coventry has an accent - and 'sides, I never hang out with English speaking Finns, so I didn't really know what the Finnish accent sounds like. They also had very Finnish last names on their name tags, but I wasn't looking at their name tags. So it was funny how oblivious I was. I often say that I don't believe in coincidences, so having these two show up felt like God slapping me in the back of the head saying "iippo, pay attention now!" And I said "okay okay I will," and did. So the elders gave me the Book of Mormon and said that it's important that I read and find out for myself if it's true, and said they'd come back.

When they did, one of the first things they asked me was if I had read the Book. I said I had started. They asked me how I felt about it, "do you think it's true?" I said yes, and the elder said "really?!" and I wondered if I'd given the wrong answer. But I do think that it is the word of God. It's hard to describe what makes me think that, but I just somehow recognised the Saviour's voice in there. Now if I had twigged at that point that there is some logic of "if the Book is true, you should become a mormon" I probably wouldn't have admitted that I thought it was true, or I would have been too scared of the consequences to even give it a try. But as it was, I wasn't afraid, I just thought "yes it's true, it's not made up, a hoax, a lie... It is what it says it is, and how it came about is no lie either." But it made them very happy to hear I thought the book was true :P

So the elders continued to teach me about the Gospel, starting with the Plan of Happiness that God has for us people. I was greatly impressed by it: I've always felt that there is somewhere that souls are before they are born here on Earth; the explanation of things that happen after death made sense to me, especially the graded degrees of glory (no one goes to hell, really); the equal chances provided for people throughout the plan... The whole thing was just very logical and attractive to the mind - all the while I just had a very good feeling about the whole thing. At another visit they taught me the Gospel, and invited me to be baptised. And I said no, because all along this thing when friends had asked me whether I was going to become a mormon, I said no to them, and I had no such intentions. Baptism sounded incredibly uncomfortable: I don't like going under water, plus they way I've grown up in a country of secular Lutheranism, baptism is for babies so that we find out what its name is. It sounded embarrassing to baptise an adult. So they dropped it and we talked about other things.

But eventually in another visit this whole baptism thing had to come up again. They taught me about authority to baptise, and how it's a choice, and asked me if it was my choice that I was baptised as a baby. I grudgingly agreed to what they told me because it was logical: if the things that happened to Joseph Smith were true, then this authority-thingie mattered. So I agreed to be baptised. They said, great, how 'bout next wednesday. I thought it was sort of too soon. Then they explained about a strange event that would take place on thursday: transfers. They said that missionaries swap places unexpectedly, and that if I wanted to be sure that both of them were there for my baptism, it'd have to be no later than wednesday. I gave, because I really did want both of them to be there.

Overall the missionaries taught me for about three weeks before my baptism. I had no problems with any of the commandments (I remember when they told me to not drink tea and coffee, I looked over my shoulder to my rather-new coffee machine... They asked if there would be a problem, and I sighed and said 'nope' and later that day threw away all my coffee and tea), and it was just simply that I had made the decision that this is what I'll do now, so everything was easy.

The elders in fact became a little frustrated that I just kind of accepted everything, and a couple of times they told me to have a question for next time. So I did. First time I asked "why isn't Song of Solomon inspired scripture" (they blushed slightly having to explain, bless them ^_^), and the next time I asked "what is the unpardonable sin" and then they stopped forcing me to have questions. :P

My baptism was a quiet little affair (there was a little drama right before it: I got sick, but I felt fine on wednesday), my roommate came but none of my other friends were invited (I still thought going underwater like that was not something I wanted people to see me do :P) but a fair number of the young people I'd made friends with in church did come, so it was nice :) One of my missionaries baptised me, with the proper priesthood authority, which was indeed restored to the Earth in the 1820s through Joseph Smith.


I have had some people criticise me and say that if they hadn't been Finnish I wouldn't have gone off and joined the mormons. Maybe I wouldn't have. Maybe I would have. It's a little hard to say, I like to think that I would have. But I would like to point out that by the time this happened I was a full-blown anglophile. My friends know that I don't really like Finns or Finland. Even: I like Finns much less outside of Finland than inside (inside Finland they're okay :P) I wouldn't want to have a Finnish boyfriend, for example. I just don't find them attractive.

So why is it that I found these guys attractive? Why is it that even my man-scared Brazilian roommate realised how utterly golden these guys (and then when she visited church with me, she extended her judgement on all mormon men) were? So if you wish to sling dirt, at least sling the right kind: I didn't find the elders attractive because they were Finnish. I found them attractive despite of it; because of their manners: they are clean and respectable, and they give this lovely air of innocence and purity. How many 21-year-olds - male or female - do you know that fits that description?

So yes, missionaries have an attractiveness about them (even I did when I was serving), but it's not why I joined the Church. I'm pretty sure I never expressed it to the elders in any way, either. The key to me was - and still is - recognising the Saviour's voice in the Book of Mormon, and the logical sensibility of the doctrine. Even today this is the basis of my testimony: that God makes sense. And this makes me want to do stuff, the stuff that God wants me to do.


Now, onto the way my mission was a continuation/sequel to this story: the key part in my story is how I kind of grudgingly changed my mind about being baptised (and now recognise it as the best thing that's happened and my conversion as one of the key defining moments in my life so far) - just like I grudgingly changed my mind about going on a mission. Whenever anybody asked me if I was going on a mission, I did that little laugh of "don't be silly" and said no. There was even this wonderful time when my bishop asked that question.

We were in the temple when my best friend was about to go on her mission to Scotland, and he pulled me aside and asked me "how old are you?" and I said 23, and he said "oh, so you're not as old as I thought." (:P that's actually pretty common with me, people think I'm older than I am) And he asked me when I would be going to the temple for myself, and I said "any day, just say the word" and he said "well, as a young woman you usually go when you go on a mission or get married." I told him I did not want to go on a mission. He said "I think you should go on a mission." Then we talked about getting married and things like that, and when the conversation was over he said again "I think you should go on a mission."

And after that, the message was coming in loud and clear, from every possible source: talkers in church all talked about mission, all scriptures I read were about mission, randomest people mentioned it in side comments that sounded in my ears... You shoud go on a mission. So eventually I gave, and said "fine, I will go on a mission. I don't know how or when, but I will go." And over time (I think it took over a year of preparation and waiting in all) it all worked out and I went. And it is easily one of the best experiences in my life and I will never regret doing it.