Welcome Home
I didn’t expect to cry during my temple recommend interview. But when President Gregson asked, “Do you have a testimony of the Atonement of Jesus Christ and of His role as your Savior and Redeemer?” the tears came before he even finished the question.
That question—it’s everything to me.
Because of Him. Because of His love. Because of His mercy, His grace, His redemption, His Atonement—I am made whole again. I find peace in the chaos, joy in the sorrow, and renewal when life feels too heavy.
But it wasn’t always that way.
Let me take you back five years, to when I began to really doubt. A Season of Doubt
I’ve been a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints my entire life. But there was a stretch of time when I wrestled with deep questions.
Was the Church true? Was it not? Should I believe what I read online? Why did so many people have such different experiences—and whose version of truth was true? I was overwhelmed, confused, and deeply unsettled.
Eventually, I disengaged from the gospel. I started making different choices. I stopped attending church. I put my garments away. I stopped paying tithing—money was already tight, and life felt too stressful to carry it all.
Two years passed—filled with attempts to return, only to end in frustration again. Then, on a cold December day late in the year, everything began to shift.
Two years passed—filled with attempts to return, only to end in frustration again. Then, on a cold December day late in the year, everything began to shift.
Our car was nearly impounded, and I hit a wall. I was done. Done making decisions that pulled me away from God. I missed the closeness I had once felt with Him. I wanted back. I wanted to take the sacrament again. I wanted to feel that sacred connection. I wanted to be worthy to enter the temple.
A Journey Back
The first Sunday in the new year, I returned to church. Sunday after Sunday, I showed up—sometimes sitting in the Mother’s Lounge, sometimes in the Primary room with my daughter. But we were there. We were trying.
And it changed everything.
I remembered what it felt like to take the sacrament. To be still. To feel His love. Week after week, I felt the power of Jesus Christ’s sacrifice for me. I knew I needed Him more than ever—and I could feel Him gently guiding me home.
A few months later, I sat in an interview with my bishop to begin preparing for the temple. I made a quiet promise to myself: Keep going. Keep walking. Keep remembering.
When Life Doesn’t Get Easier
Life didn’t magically become easier. Work was overwhelming. I wasn’t sleeping. I got sick a lot. I had my wisdom teeth removed. There were many nights of tears and discouragement.
But I kept going.
Every Sunday, my daughter and I made it to church. She’s an autistic kiddo—church can be overwhelming, sitting still and quiet is hard, and finding a place for us has been a challenge. But we show up.
She knows Jesus.
Each week, as we drive near the church building, I ask her, “What do you see?” And she excitedly calls out, “Church!” Her joy keeps me going. The Power of the Temple
I’ll never forget my stake presidency interview. We talked about my journey, my testimony, and my desire to return to the temple. The Spirit in that room was undeniable. I cried. It was a holy moment—a reminder that this gospel really is about redemption and coming home.
I left the interview holding a temple recommend in my hand. I called my sisters in excitement. That Friday, we had an appointment to go to the temple together.
And we did. April 25. I stepped into the Lord’s house again.
It was peaceful. It was beautiful. I was home.
That night, after the session, I wrote: “It’s been a journey to get where I am today. Questions, doubts, thinking I would never come back. But y’all—I am here. My greatest comeback, at least I think so. Jesus Christ is my best friend, my brother, my Savior. My sisters have walked every step of this journey with me, especially Ally. And today, they were with me as we stepped into those sacred doors. I’m still sitting on the temple grounds as I write this. It’s so peaceful. So safe. So holy. I’m here because of Him. Because of His grace. Because of His love. Because He lives. I was the prodigal daughter, and He ran to me. He welcomed me with the biggest hug ever. I think He’s proud of me tonight. I’m so grateful for His redeeming love.” Lessons Learned
I often ask myself: When did the questions begin? When did I forget Him? How did I lose my way?
I think it started when I stopped reading my scriptures, stopped praying, and stopped talking to my Heavenly Father. I got too caught up in the checklist. I trusted the world more than Him.
Now, I know better. I’ve learned better. I’ve remembered Him—and I will always strive to remember Him—every day.
In the Book of Mormon, I often think about the moment when the Savior appeared to the people in the Americas and invited them to feel the prints in His hands and feet. I imagine myself in that crowd, walking up to Him with tears in my eyes, knowing that He is the Christ.
I made mistakes. I left. I doubted. But I returned. I was the prodigal daughter, and He ran to me when He saw me coming back. He welcomed me home.
Love, Megan
Life didn’t magically become easier. Work was overwhelming. I wasn’t sleeping. I got sick a lot. I had my wisdom teeth removed. There were many nights of tears and discouragement.
But I kept going.
Every Sunday, my daughter and I made it to church. She’s an autistic kiddo—church can be overwhelming, sitting still and quiet is hard, and finding a place for us has been a challenge. But we show up.
She knows Jesus.
Each week, as we drive near the church building, I ask her, “What do you see?” And she excitedly calls out, “Church!” Her joy keeps me going. The Power of the Temple
I’ll never forget my stake presidency interview. We talked about my journey, my testimony, and my desire to return to the temple. The Spirit in that room was undeniable. I cried. It was a holy moment—a reminder that this gospel really is about redemption and coming home.
I left the interview holding a temple recommend in my hand. I called my sisters in excitement. That Friday, we had an appointment to go to the temple together.
And we did. April 25. I stepped into the Lord’s house again.
It was peaceful. It was beautiful. I was home.
That night, after the session, I wrote: “It’s been a journey to get where I am today. Questions, doubts, thinking I would never come back. But y’all—I am here. My greatest comeback, at least I think so. Jesus Christ is my best friend, my brother, my Savior. My sisters have walked every step of this journey with me, especially Ally. And today, they were with me as we stepped into those sacred doors. I’m still sitting on the temple grounds as I write this. It’s so peaceful. So safe. So holy. I’m here because of Him. Because of His grace. Because of His love. Because He lives. I was the prodigal daughter, and He ran to me. He welcomed me with the biggest hug ever. I think He’s proud of me tonight. I’m so grateful for His redeeming love.” Lessons Learned
I often ask myself: When did the questions begin? When did I forget Him? How did I lose my way?
I think it started when I stopped reading my scriptures, stopped praying, and stopped talking to my Heavenly Father. I got too caught up in the checklist. I trusted the world more than Him.
Now, I know better. I’ve learned better. I’ve remembered Him—and I will always strive to remember Him—every day.
In the Book of Mormon, I often think about the moment when the Savior appeared to the people in the Americas and invited them to feel the prints in His hands and feet. I imagine myself in that crowd, walking up to Him with tears in my eyes, knowing that He is the Christ.
I made mistakes. I left. I doubted. But I returned. I was the prodigal daughter, and He ran to me when He saw me coming back. He welcomed me home.
Love, Megan
More than anything, I wanted Jesus Christ in my life again.
Love,
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