Self Discovery 2 part 3

Entry: Faith

I only went to Primary a handful of times. On ocassion my mom would attend Relief Society and drop my sister off at nursery and me off at Primary. I don't remember much about it. I had been 8 years old for about 5 months before my teacher realized I hadn't been baptized yet. So she scheduled an appointment for me with the Bishop during class. I didn't know what was going on. Even though the Bishop was very nice, I remember sitting in his office feeling incredibly nervous. He asked me some questions. Next thing I knew I was going to get baptized.
I remember the week leading up to my baptism. I talked about it non stop. I wasn't exactly sure what it all meant. I'd get my sins washed away. I'd make a promise with God. I'd have to be good, good, good. But I wanted it. I felt so compelled to be "good" or perhaps God would be mad at me. My understanding at that age was very limited. Not to mention I had never really been taught about the gospel at home. Yet, I was so eager for the big day. And when it came I was very excited because I knew it was an important day. Many of my family members came (the majority of which were inactive or non-members of the church.) Most of the actual baptism is a blur to me now. Although, I know I was confirmed the same night. I remember some men laying their hands on my head, my hair still dripping with water. And this is the part that isn't a blur. The feeling I felt after I was baptized and confirmed. The warm feeling in my heart.
When we got home that night I recall my sister and I laying on the lawn with our big pillows. It was a warm night. Dusk. Everyone was gone by then. We were alone in the grass and we layed there and talked. I tried to explain the joy in my heart to Steph. But I couldn't describe THAT feeling. The memory of that particular sensation has never left me. I knew very little about the gospel or Jesus or even Heavenly Father at that time. Yes, I had prayed to them before and I had felt peace from praying. But this feeling was different. Even with my scarce experience and knowledge there was no way I could deny that feeling. It WAS NOT something anybody could have ever "taught" me. It was real. A warm, sweet tingling all over. Like I truly was clean and could feel Their arms around me. I could feel that. And nobody can ever take that memory from me. It has always been such a sacrosanct part of my past. Something that has increased my faith in times of doubt.
Unfortunately, for whatever reason, I don't remember going to church again for a very long time. It wasn't until about age 12 when we moved to our 3rd house that I started attending church again.