woolf_tony
New member
- Joined
- Jul 12, 2008
- Messages
- 1
Where to begin... I grew up in northern Utah a church on every corner kinda place with non mormons few and far between. I have always known that it was a bad idea even as a young child when I didn't know much of anything. I would do anything I could to get out of church even though that was all I knew so far in this life. I come from a big ass Mormon family and usually a mormon is to be Baptized at the age 8 but I have never believed in that nonsense. I made the mistake of going along with my family getting pressured from all sides to do it. I tried to make sense of the mormon view (I've read the book of mormon and the bible more times than I can count) and after a few month actually trying to believe and little progress I finally decided to get baptized at age 12. I come from a divorced family and everyone was fighting over who would plunge me under my dad or my grandfather (High in the mormon ranks) on my mother's side. After plenty of words got thrown around between the family they came to me to choose. I chose my dad and my grandfather would say the prayer during the laying of the hands. That's where a bunch of high up mormons are called in and put one hand on my head and the other on the shoulder next to them and say a prey so I would have the holy ghost go in me giving me priesthood. Fun stuff right. Well the time came to get ready and my dad and I wore all white long sleeve and leg clothing. This is the part that makes my baptism different. As I stepped into the water it was a bit wormer than I expected
but that's not what caught my attention the most. My clothing stuck to me like a plastic bag and no water got through. Even as I got dunked under it didn't seep in anywhere. Not through my legs arms or neck and the clothing was baggy. I got out bone dry. My dad wearing the same type of suit got plenty wet. I remember it clear as day. Even my face felt like it had a bubble over it. I felt like the water and everyone even my dad didn't exist during the plunge. I had a room full of mormons and family watching. Then it was time to dry what little water I had on me and go to a private room where they did the laying of the hands. I knew at that point I made a mistake, but I still hold true to my way of doing things. I let shit get uber shitty no matter the damage just to learn from it with no freer ready to take on anything. I didn't know about energy/emotion and the basics so I can't tell you what forces actually were at work but during the laying of the hands fiasco. I kept my eyes wide open and kept out of a prayer state of mind. My grandfather couldn't think of anything to say and stalled silently at least twice during his prayer, other dudes in the circle had to tell him what to say. I stopped pursuing the mormon way that day and got myself into plenty of shit for it. Couldn't ask for a better baptism, rather not have one but whatever. I didn't know what was going on exactly but I think it was mostly me if not all me keeping me dry. Now I'm back in Utah living with my mom (she no longer goes to church woot!) for a short while, I lived with my ex for 3 years but she couldn't stop being Christian (among other issues like not being my "soul mate" if there is such a thing, I'm back with a my woman who is turning out to be everything I ever wanted and then some) even though I showed here truth and she even moved a door a foot back and forth with her aura. She left me but I'm glad she did, it was an uphill battle. It was quite amusing going into a church the other day with how far I have come, I overcame no problem but have had a hard time before. I want to go to a service hehehe or back to the main temple grounds again now that sucked the last time I was there. But that's a different story.