Personal Revelation & Minor Miracles: I Should Probably Be Mormon

My big brother, Bob, liked to tell me what he learned in youth group. He also like to tell me how he was going to change his life based on what he learned. That was how he would witness to me.

So one night he declared, "I'm gonna stop fighting you." (We fought a lot.) "I might try to defend myself if you start coming after me, but I won't fight back. Instead, I'll let the Holy Spirit thump you."

And at that moment, it was on.

I'd never won a fight, I'm two years younger than him, and he just green lit an ass whoopin'. Please realize, I wasn't mad, and I had no reason to fight him. My heart wasn't in it, but he just wrote a check with his face, and my fist was going to cash it.

Figuratively. We didn't punch too much. We wrestled to submission. So after a few seconds, I was sitting on his chest, pinning his arms with my knees, and slowly lowering a loogie towards his face.

After the loogie-lowering ritual and an extended period of sternum-jabbing, I went through the kabuki theater of repeating, "I'm calling a truce, and I'm gonna let you up now. Are you gonna be cool?" You have to say it about ten times before you confirm to yourself that you have no idea what's going to happen once you release your humiliated, loogie-faced, torture survivor.

Eventually I let him up, and he didn't jump me. As a matter of fact, he did exactly what he said he would do. And as I walked away from this decisive victory, my brother's voice echoed in the back of my mind: "I'll let the Holy Spirit thump you ... I'll let the Holy Spirit thump you ... " 

And I realized at that moment that I was getting thumped by the Holy Spirit. 

Personal revelation: Evangelical Christianity is true.

Six years later, I was a freshman at the University of Washington. I was getting ready to transfer to Brigham Young University. God had called me to be a missionary to Mormons. In preparation for my new ministry, I was meeting with Mormon missionaries for hours on end and attending a class called "Philosophies and Doctrines for Non-Members" at the Mormon Institute of Religion. I had dropped all but two of my classes that quarter. I was spending so much time analyzing Mormonism for weaknesses that I only had time for linear algebra and vector calculus. (That's a ten on the 1 to 10 humble brag scale.)

One afternoon, I was sitting in my dorm room, and started to pray. My prayer - as best I can remember it - went something like this: "God, I've been so focused on all this Mormon stuff. It seems like it's been a long time since I've just said, 'I love you.' Well, I love you." 

Without missing a beat, a voice in my head immediately said, "Then why don't you join my church?"

Personal revelation: the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is true. 

There are Mormons who would punch their moms during sacrament meeting to have a testimony that good. If I converted to Mormonism, I would have been a rock star with that testimony. I would have been the Kurt Cobain of the LDS Church, mostly because I had voices in my head.

Fall quarter of my sophomore year was pretty amazing, spiritually. I got thrown together with a random roommate who would end up being the best man in my wedding. He's a fantastic guy with a big heart. And he was a Christian just like me.

One morning, he told me about the role I played in a miracle. The night before, he was having a hard time falling asleep. A girl from Bible study was on his mind. He felt like he should go to her dorm room to check on her. But he's such a quality guy, he was worried about his motivations. Maybe he was fabricating some fake prompting of the Holy Spirit just because she was cute. So he was stuck, unable to sleep and unwilling to act because of his doubts about the veracity of this spiritual prompting.

So he prayed for God to show him a sign if He indeed wanted him to go talk to the hottie. And immediately, in my sleep, I said, "Praise be to God! Glory to Jesus!" This was at least the second time God performed a miracle using a talking jackass.

My roommate found her awake in the lounge. He delivered a message of God's love that she really needed to hear that night.

He wasn't lying to me about my ecstatic unconscious utterance. He's one of the most honest, solid guys I know. I didn't consciously experience the miracle, but I have no reason to doubt that it happened.

Minor miracle: Evangelical Christianity is true.

One year earlier, I was attending one of the best classes I took in college: Comparative Western Religions. One day the professor (who was clearly not Muslim) told us a story about a trip he took to the Middle East. The final leg of his flight was filled with passengers who were openly Muslim. In the middle of the flight, the plane hit some pretty strong turbulence.

Turbulence is scary shit. Yeah, you play it cool on the outside, but sometimes you hit a patch of rough air that makes you realize that when a baby bangs a can of Pringles on her stroller, it's pretty fucking scary for the Pringles.

My professor ascertained that the majority of the passengers were quite poor, and this was very likely one of two flights they would take in their entire lives. Bad turbulence is even worse for inexperienced fliers because they're confident that they're going to die.

At this point, a Muslim lady stood up (breaking the fasten seat belt commandment) and prayed a prayer. Immediately the turbulence stopped, and the remainder of the flight was as smooth as a freshly ironed burqa.

My professor had nothing to gain from relaying this story, so I have no reason to believe he was lying.

Minor miracle: Islam is true.

Truth isn't discerned via Holy Spirit thumpings, auditory phantasms, ecstatic somniloquies, or well-timed mini-miracles. Otherwise, I'd be an Evangelical Muslim of Latter-Day Saints.