Liahona
I Wanted to Return to God—but Could I?
October 2024


“I Wanted to Return to God—but Could I?,” Liahona, Oct. 2024.

I Wanted to Return to God—but Could I?

While I believed in Jesus Christ, I was convinced that I couldn’t possibly be forgiven for what I had done.

man looking out a window at another man shoveling snow

Illustrations by Mark Smith

I sat in my motel room on a snowy January night, deeply discouraged. I had recently finished serving more than 34 years in prison for some serious crimes and injuries, and I was contemplating doing something that would have sent me straight back to where I had just been. My plans since my release had fallen apart—and as I had few resources and my prayers seemed to be going unanswered, my options felt limited.

A sound outside caught my attention. Looking out my window, I spotted the motel owner shoveling snow in the parking lot by himself. “Oh, that’s not right,” I thought, so I joined him. I didn’t think much of my act of service that night. But to my surprise, the next day the owner reduced the cost of my room. And while I stayed there over the following five weeks, he never asked me to pay full price.

His generosity was more than a financial blessing that I deeply needed. His kindness was also an answer to my prayer when I was losing hope. Through him, I understood that God was aware of me—and that I needed to take some steps to return to Him.

A Way Back

Decades before that night in January, I wanted nothing to do with God. Entering a state penitentiary as an angry, bitter, and confused 22-year-old, I did everything I could to make my fellow inmates fear and respect me. I also believed that no one could or should love me—not even God—because I was convinced I had crossed a point of no return and that there was no hope for my redemption.

I know now that I was wrong; we can always repent and return to God. Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught:

“Satan wants us to think that when we have sinned we have gone past a ‘point of no return’—that it is too late to change our course. …

“Christ came to save us. If we have taken a wrong course, the Atonement of Jesus Christ can give us the assurance that sin is not a point of no return. A safe return is possible if we will follow God’s plan for our salvation.”

My return to God began after I had been in prison for more than a decade. A friend who visited me in the penitentiary for years gave me the Book of Mormon and invited me to read it. Although I promised I would, I continually put it off. One weekend my friend visited and asked if I had even picked up the book. Of course I had! I picked it up every time I cleaned my living quarters. But I had not read it—and it wasn’t until a serious conversation with my friend, who impressed upon me how important it was that I keep my promise, that I finally began reading.

man in a prison cell reading a book

I found many interesting stories in the Book of Mormon, but I told myself they were just that—stories. Then I reached Moroni 10:4. I’ll admit, I didn’t want to “ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ” whether the book was true; I didn’t want to think about the consequences for someone like me if it was. Besides, if this was the word of God, then the Atonement of Jesus Christ was real, and I hated to think how my actions had added to His suffering.

Still, I prayed. I didn’t see a vision or hear a voice saying that the book was true. But as I looked out my window on a clear summer day, an enormous storm cloud rolled across the sky. There was no rain—just a powerful wind—and as quickly as it came, the cloud passed again. And I knew. Just as Moroni had promised, the Spirit testified to my heart that the Book of Mormon was true—and that I needed to change.

I began studying the scriptures more earnestly and was allowed to start a Book of Mormon study group with my fellow inmates. The missionaries also met with me and others in prison. For the next 15 years, I listened to the missionaries’ lessons, and for the remainder of my time in prison, I tried to live differently. This wasn’t easy in that environment. But it was possible because of my Savior, who supported and guided me through that experience and into the next chapter of my life (see Mosiah 24:15).

Finding Forgiveness

I’ll never forget the day I met my bishop after that lonely January night in my motel room. My friend who had given me the Book of Mormon helped me get in touch with him. When I met the bishop in his office before church, I told him about my past, and I was prepared for him to say that they didn’t need someone like me in their ward.

Instead, he invited me to go into sacrament meeting.

So I did. I was convinced that I had the word convict tattooed across my forehead and that when I walked in, everyone would shun me. But that didn’t happen. Instead, I found the most welcoming people I had ever encountered. The next Sunday, I came back. Not long after I began attending church, a counselor in the bishopric asked if I would speak about forgiveness in sacrament meeting.

“Me? Talk about forgiveness?” I asked. But when he affirmed that he meant it, I took on the assignment. When I spoke to the congregation, I was sure they would only see me as a former convict. But the longer I talked, the more confident I became, and afterward I was met with nothing but love from these members, who greeted me with a hug or a handshake. That day I truly felt what it was to “love thy neighbour as thyself” (Matthew 22:39).

More importantly, I finally understood that when the Savior suffered in the Garden of Gethsemane and bled from every pore (see Mosiah 3:7; Doctrine and Covenants 19:18–19), He was bleeding for me too. This was a turning point—even though I had accepted the truth of the Book of Mormon and had invited Jesus Christ into my life, I was convinced that I was not going to be invited to heaven. I could not be forgiven. His Atonement was for everyone else, but not for me—because of what I had done.

But in this moment, I realized that I could be forgiven. This knowledge helped me move forward with my life. After more meetings with the missionaries, I was baptized in March 2012—my first step on the covenant path. Although I previously wouldn’t have thought it possible, I was able to marry a wonderful woman from my ward. We were sealed in the Salt Lake Temple in June 2013.

My wife and I have learned to put our faith in Jesus Christ. We rely on His Atonement, believing that “because Jesus walked such a long, lonely path utterly alone, we do not have to do so.” As human beings, we are imperfect. At times we will stumble—even fall. But no matter how unworthy or past saving we think we are, Christ does not give up on us; He is always willing and ready to help us return safely home.