The most spiritual and faith building parts of my life:

The first happened when I was 18-19.

There was one time I was driving alone, coming down parleys canyon. I was thinking and praying as I had often done. I felt a very spiritual closeness and as I had learned to do, my prayer was more of a discussion with the spirit. Then a feeling came over me like the spirit was asking me, that I could ask it any question, any question at all. I gave it some thought. And one of the things I enjoyed on my long rides alone was listening to music. Pop/rock/80's etc. So with that kind of music in mind I asked the spirit, "if you could pick or sing me a song, what would it be?"

Then almost instantaneously a song began to play in my head that I was quite familiar with but the lyrics were altered. I was actually expecting a pop/rock or 80's tune but this came out;

You are a child of God

and I have sent you here

have given you this earthly home

hmmm hmmmm hmmmmm blah blah (mumbled)

to lead you, guide you

walk beside you

help you find the way

teach you all that you should know

to live with me someday.

I was overwhelmed with the spirit and tears began to well up to the point I was worried I'd lose track of the road.

The second most spiritual time in my life:

It was a few months before this experience that my Grandmother passed away. I recall as she lay on her deathbed, asking me if I would give her a priesthood blessing. I remarked that I had but only the Aaronic priesthood and didn't feel worthy. She said that my Grandpa could help me to do it, as he was a Melchizedek priesthood holder and that the Lord would not deny her that blessing. She gave me a few minutes to prepare myself and as I sat at the foot of her bed, I repented and asked for the guidance I needed. The time quickly came to place our hands on her head and give the blessing. I recall starting the blessing with my Grandfathers help then waiting for the inspiration and words to come flooding in. There was nothing and blank silence ensued. It was deafening but nothing came to my mind. This was the first blessing I was to give? and nothing? After about a minute of silence my Grandmother asked what was the matter, and in that moment it all came flooding in. The words came powerful and strong. They weren't my words or even my will, as I wanted to tell her she would get better and her cancer would go away. But instead the words came and I still dread them, that she would be quickly taken from this mortal existence, from her suffering and pain. After finishing the blessing I recall crying because I didn't want that. I wanted her to continue to be in my life. But perhaps I was the one who had to say those words, because my grandfather probably couldn't have. She did quickly pass away, it was within a matter of days. For about three months, she was gone. But then after about three months her presence was there again. It was very distinctly her strong willed personality. I almost feel like she came back long enough to help me decide to go on a mission and then help me start preparing to go. I had no intention of going on a mission at this point in my life but religious affairs were always important to my grandmother. For about nine months, I felt her strongly guiding my life till about the time I entered the missionary training center.

As I prepared to go on a mission, I felt as though I were growing in leaps and bounds. It felt like I was growing so fast at such a rapid pace that I was almost a different person from one minute to the next. I can remember driving along in the postal truck (as that was the job at the time) and feeling as though I had a direct connection to heaven through my head and the information and understanding was simply being downloaded and stored.

Looking back, this was the most spiritual time of my life. The high point. I was growing so fast, I was so happy, I had a clearly defined goal. And I enjoyed reading the book of Mormon and the peace and tranquility it brought me. Then after I entered the MTC my spiritual high began to deteriorate and be beaten down. I was given a companion that was only there because his Mommy and Daddy had sent him there. He had no real life experience and only knew to follow the rules. It took a lot of enthusiasm out of me. My spiritual growth began to slow and be hindered by the social aspect and of dealing with kids who were not there for the same reasons I was. I wanted to help people. I wanted to share my new found joy. But my companion just didn't get it. Then I got into the mission field. I had a greenies fire like no other. I was so excited to share my joy and happiness with people, I wanted to find them and show them how to feel as happy as I felt. But my next companion wasn't nearly as motivated. He was fun. A cool guy, but reality was setting in.

We were teaching a man that I had met while my first companion and I were tracting. It was one of the times when he was letting me lead using my 'greenie fire' and decide where we were going to tract. And we nearly landed on the doorstep of the perfect investigator. We went in and began to teach him the first discussion, he was so receptive. He had been very actively looking for the right religion and had read literally hundreds of books trying to find the right religion. He showed us all the religious literature he had collected and read, pulling out the lower bunk of a day bed. And where the mattress should have been were books stacked nearly three books thick across the entire bed, various books from many different religions and writers.

In the discussions I remember struggling to understand him as I barely spoke any Russian because I was so new. My companion would translate for me on the walks home at night. And after I understood what his concerns were I would diligently find the scripture references that answered his concerns and questions. Then the next time we would go I would share those scriptures with him that answered his questions from the previous discussion. It was the best way I could communicate. I knew that the scriptures were translated well enough that I could communicate better through them.

After we had gone through nearly all the discussions, he was very committed to being baptized. And we asked him who in the branch he would like to baptize him, as that was the mission policy, to have a local member perform the ordinance. He asked me if I would do it. He wanted me to do it, he insisted, because I had a "Christ-like quietness" about me.

At his baptism, I still barely spoke any Russian and remember getting dressed with him into our white clothes in a rented Russian bath house for the occasion. He began to sing and hum hymns which he had memorized the night before. I felt so inadequate next to such a spiritual man. And I must have been his perfect missionary, if I had to guess, it would be because I couldn't speak Russian well enough to screw up a conversation. Hence the "Christ like quietness".

After we were dressed into our white clothes, we went out into the meeting room where many of the members and other missionaries were waiting and had a beautiful meeting with hymns and a talk. Then we went into the next room where a deep bath had been filled. The Russian bath house was clean but very run down with light blue discolored and broken tiles. I climbed in the warm water that went up to my mid belly. He followed. I recall how awkward it felt fumbling around with our hands till we had our arms where they were supposed to be. Then, once we got our arms into position and my arm came to a square, I felt as though I was pushed back in my body and was no longer in control of my limbs but was just observing. The words were coming out of my mouth but I wasn't speaking them. They were the words I had so diligently memorized.

"Vladimir cergaevich Kutepov, buduchee ypolnomochneem eecusom xristom, ya kreshu tebya vo emya otsa E ceina E duxa svyatova. -Amen"

Then I watched him go into the water and come back out. I gave him a hug, then he kissed me and in that instant I was pushed forward back into my body to receive that kiss. Then I felt awkward again.

While riding the bus on the way home that night I asked a good Russian friend. How he thought the baptism went, how had I done? He paused, his eyes widened as he looked at me and said. "Voodberry, it was amazing, when you said the baptismal prayer, you had no accent!"

Probably the third most spiritual experience I have ever experienced was 

when I found out I was going to become a father. 

I felt my daughters spirit about a week before we found out we were pregnant. I recall laying in bed trying to go to sleep for the night. My then wife, as usual was long gone. Sawing logs, a freight train couldn't have woke her. I suddenly felt or realized a presence. I had always felt who was in the house and how many were there. But now there was another. Not my wife, not me, not the dog, there was another presence there. I got up and diligently searched the house for an intruder. Not finding anything I returned to bed. As I lay there pondering for a short time, trying to figure it out. I remember looking over at my wife's belly and it dawned on me that she was pregnant, that the presence I was feeling was our unborn child.

What threw me for a loop was that the spirit was not that of a baby or even a child but that of a mature adult. It was an adult spirit. Which really changed my perspective on how I was to raise this spirit as a child. I still struggle with it. At ten years old now she defies much logic in order to get her way. I am struggling to treat her as an adult.

That same spiritual presence came and went throughout the pregnancy. After my wife had come to grips with being pregnant, she too noticed this feeling and we both could recognize when her spirit was there and when she was gone.

I didn't notice this with any of the other births, but I attribute this to the fact that I had no other kids to focus on in a perfectly quiet home, having had my thoughts all to myself. So I feel the mood was set for me to be receptive to what was always there through every one of my children coming into this world.