The first spiritual experience I had as a young LDS missionary was one of enormous dread. It occurred in the spring of 1973, as I walked toward the front door of the old mission home on North Temple.
I was headed for two years of close association with personalities willing to speak, hear, feel and appear exactly alike. Past experience had shown that I wasn’t well suited for this, and so I was terrified.
Some may argue that terror does not qualify as a spiritual experience. I say read the scrip...
<iframe src="http://www.sltrib.com/csp/mediapool/sites/sltrib/pages/garss.csp" height="1" width="1" > </frame>
↧
