There have been many important points in my life where I was blessed with a clear understanding of what I needed to do. Being baptized as a 12 year-old convert was first and joining the Army was second. Basic training at Ft. Jackson, South Carolina was what I expected physically but there were moments of spiritual surprise. Attending church was a welcomed reprieve and the Brothers and Sisters of the ward were supportive and wonderful. During a surprise barracks inspection, I found myself dreading the inevitable tornado that would hit my wall locker in the form of a drill sergeant. I had spent my hour of personal time the previous night organizing and folding my clothing to regulation. As the drill sergeant ordered me to stand beside my wall locker, I felt like I would begin to cry over the sacrifice of my personal time which seemed for naught. He immediately picked up my church newspaper; religious materials were okay but newspapers were contraband. I was suddenly unsure of which category it fell into. The drill sergeant quiet scanned the paper, seemingly interested in what it contained. He asked me a few personal questions pertaining to my activity in the church, giving quiet approval and then softly responded that he had become inactive. He neatly folded the newspaper back, placed it in its assigned spot, gently moved my shirts and other items to the side. He then placed everything back in its proper spot. My tears of fear became tears of joy. As the other female Soldiers searched the floor of the barracks for their belongings, I was left to quietly ponder what had just occurred. I do not know what happened to the drill sergeant, but that will always be a beautiful moment for me.
I wish I could say that the remainder of my service was filled with such moments but I cannot. I broke the Word of Wisdom shortly after reporting for duty in South Korea. In that moment, I instantly believed the greatest lie of the adversary: I was not worthy to attend church or even pray. I was ashamed to show my face before the Lord, I guess you could say. By the time I found out there was a ward off-post, the lie and my mistakes were firmly cemented in my mind. I never lost my testimony but I also did not often speak of my membership in the church because I feared my hypocrisy would reflect poorly on the Gospel and the church. It took me eight years to humble myself and change my view of what it meant to be worthy of the Atonement. I also knew the Lord was calling me back to activity because I had a new talent: I could pick out a member of the church long before they told me. It happened everywhere it seemed! My husband and I desired to raise our infant daughter with a knowledge and love for our Father and Christ. After attending our ward, it was my husband’s turn to find a Baptist church for us to attend. He never found one, he wanted to go back to “my church.” After months of the discussions for him and repentance for me, my church became our church. We were sealed for all time and eternity with our beautiful daughter in the Atlanta Temple at the proper time.
If I could give advice to young adults, it would me to make your decisions before you are asked to do so and RECOMMIT to those decisions often. Military service is honorable and important and so is holding to the iron rod.
~Heather Worley
~Heather Worley