Conversion

I've been thinking about it but I finally decided to go ahead and share with anyone who might read what I guess you can call the story of my conversion when I fully embraced the gospel.

I still hold some feelings of resentment regarding some of this, but these things I experienced played a vital role on my road to full conversion. I've been a member of the church all my life despite being born into a part-member family. In high school, my biggest forte (no pun intended!) was the music program; in particular, band class. Half way through freshman year, I became the section leader of the trumpets section. When the school year was nearing completion, I auditioned for the for the higher level band as well the marching band. I was successful and got admitted as a member of the two groups as well as becoming a representative in various leadership positions for the next three years to come.

Things were looking up, until my parents dropped a bombshell; we were moving across the country from the Washington D.C. area to Oregon. All the things I achieved, the efforts I made, short-lived and a waste. Much to my absolute disappointment, it was too late for me to join the marching band program at my new high school. If that wasn't disappointing enough, the credentials I gained from my freshman year did not apply at my new high school either. It seemed like in an instant, I went from "rising leader" to "last-chair underdog". The thought of it brought dark feelings of resentment.

There was only one thing I could do and that was try and work my way back up. But that was "easier said than done." The motivation and confidence I established as a freshman in high school was gone. At the time, it was a new low-point for me. I felt that my new high school band program was out of my league and without a doubt I felt out of place. I tried to have fun especially when basketball season started by participating in the Pep Band but I still felt empty inside. In a nutshell, I resented (not blamed) my band teacher who "demoted" me in the first place. I resented fellow students in the band program, especially when they held a leadership position. I resented not being a section leader like I was as a freshman.

I was also in school with two of my cousins at the time and our family is particularly close. But honestly, I resented some of their actions as well. I felt they really didn't do much to help me feel welcome at my new school. To me, they were the "Mr. Popular" among their friends and I felt stuck in their shadows.

If there was ANYTHING keeping me afloat during these times, it must have been the church. I've always believed The Church Of Jesus Christ Of Latter-day Saints was true. But even so, I questioned why God would allow all this to happen to me. During these three years of high school, I had a very influential Seminary instructor and later on, a very influential (and excellent in my opinion) Sunday School Teacher who helped me to keep pushing along. The church was the only thing I really held onto but it still felt like it wasn't enough.

Somehow, I managed to make it through sophomore year, the first year at my new high school. I got good grades (which wasn't a huge issue). But I still wasn't satisfied, especially with where I was in the band program. I seriously considered quitting the program to save myself the embarrassment I started feeling but I gave the program another chance by starting with marching band, which I was finally allowed to join. Even so, I still resented being the "underdog" of the group. Junior year wasn't better because I got braces on my teeth half way through the school year. And anyone who plays a wind instrument knows that really hurts playing technique as was the case for me. My ability to play the trumpet went down the drain and it became painful physically as was already mentally to play.

At the end of the year, I just couldn't take it anymore. Once again, the thought of quitting the program crossed my mind. But I first decided to talk with my band director and discuss a possible alternative. He immediately suggested I switch instruments from the Trumpet to the Baritone (a brass instrument with the same fingering technique as the trumpet but on the bass scale). The thought of switching intrigued me; the new instrument turned out to be very accommodating and I almost felt no pain even with braces since the mouthpiece on the Baritone was a lot larger than on the Trumpet. Again, I participated in the marching band for my senior year and for the first time, I actually found enjoyment in this band program. Maybe it was the newly found love of my new instrument, but I certainly didn't feel like an underdog anymore.

But feelings of resentment still smoldered. I reflected often asking whether or not this was worth it. My younger sister auditioned for and got accepted into the highest concert ensemble that school year. But ever since I moved to Oregon, I've always been in the "middle band". And I still wasn't a leader at anything so for a while, I felt slightly out of place and a little dissatisfied.

It was during this school year when two particular life-changers took place. The first was a day after Thanksgiving. I went flying with my uncle on his Cessna 172. Four minutes into our flight, the single-engine started losing power forcing us to turn around and declare an emergency. We landed safely and nothing too dramatic happened. But being in that situation was quite an adrenaline rush for me. Then exactly three months after that experience, something a little more dramatic happened; an auto accident. I was slowing down for a red light when the next thing I knew was getting read-ended, air bags set off and being injured. But thankfully, these injuries were non-life threatening. What surprised me even more was I got rear-ended by someone I knew, someone (to this day) I consider a friend. I went to the hospital to check on my injuries and then went home after that. This was a first-hand experience on forgiveness and I easily found it in my heart to forgive. I suppose these two experiences helped me realize that there is more to life than meets the eye and life can be fragile.

(Thinking about it now, man-kind would be a miserable thing if life only went up until high school! Good things that's not the case!)

Finding a better appreciation for my life and the things I have, I made the most of it from then on, especially during the remaining months of my senior year and going back to the band program. I excelled at the position I was at and I moved on for the most part in regards to the past. I graduated from high school with full honors in the music program receiving the Director's Award which few students receive on a yearly basis. I was also recognized within the band program, especially for the changes I had to make in a three year time frame. And as for my band director, I came to appreciate him for not giving up on me and caring for my best interests. In the end, I've come to respect him and any resentment I had towards him was all gone.

Again, I always knew the church was true even when during times when I questioned a few things. I served a mission in Japan and I experienced similar feelings like the ones I did in high school. In addition to the great experiences I had, I resented some things. In particular, the way my mission turned out was unexpected. For the longest time, I totally expected to become a senior companion half-way through and possibly hold a leadership position sometime after that. But I ended up waiting well over a year after I started my mission before becoming a senior companion. Prior to my mission, the last time I had any leadership responsibilities was when I conducted my Eagle Project in the Boy Scouts of America. I could have trained a new missionary, I could have lead a group of missionaries but I didn't get any of those opportunities and I resented that. Again, I felt out place and it all made me question why God would let this be the case.

All of these experiences would be meaningless if I haven't learned anything from it. Regarding my mission, I learned people who are serving in leadership positions are asked to serve in such capacity mainly because they have something they need to learn from it. I assume there would've been nothing for me to learn had I served in such a leadership position.

My dad said this to me in an E-mail towards the end of mission: "You have nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. You should be proud of your accomplishments and proud of yourself as an individual." Those words of encouragement keeps me going, no matter how tough things become. And for the most part, it's all in the past and I am at peace with it.

As my mission president would always say when opening a meeting, "The gospel is true."

September 23, 2012 Talk: We ARE Survivors!

Good day to you brothers and sisters. I am grateful for the opportunity I have to speak today. It's been about six months now since I came home from my mission and this is actually my first talk since my homecoming. I gotta admit, I was doing pretty well staying under the radar these last six months but two weeks ago I showed a little early for Family Home Evening and I got roped into giving this talk. Moral of the story: DON'T show up early for a Family Home Evening! I honestly had no intention of attending this Singles Branch mainly because 1.) at the time, we were meeting in West Salem and 2.) we had to meet at one o' clock in the afternoon. Funny story how I finally decided to attend: It was only a few weeks since I got home from my mission. Typical of me, my sleep habits were still pretty bad and I overslept and missed the meetings for Turner Ward scheduled at the time so I figured, "Eh. Might as well go over to West Salem and check out the Single Branch." I had forgotten that my uncle is a counselor in the Branch Presidency here and him being an opportunist, he handed me an information form and persuaded me to fill it out. And that's how I ended up being a member of this Young Single Adults Branch. Now that we're back here in our own Stake Center meeting at 1:30 in the afternoon, I was starting to think, "Maybe joining this Branch was a mistake!" (I'm just pulling your leg here!) I'm really grateful to part of this Branch and to be serving in the callings that I have.

I thought about what should I speak on; I prayed really hard about it... Just within these last six months, I've been doing a lot of reflecting, thinking to myself, asking myself:

"How have I served others?"
"How have I been influencing those around me?"

I gotta admit, feelings that emit from this reflection process was not always positive. There were times of resentment along with all the happiness that I felt. But in battle against resentment, I always tell myself something my dad told me just before I came home from my mission: "You have nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. You should be proud of your accomplishments and proud of yourself as an individual." And I take those words to heart. Speaking freely, a lot has changed since I left for my mission and in the few years that followed. Whether we like it or not, things will keep on changing. For many, these changes could mean tough times. For many, uncertainty stares us in the face and that sometimes results in anger, hate, doubt, anguish, and sadness. But brothers and sisters despite the hardships we may face, we got to remember this: We have the gospel. It can take us higher and farther than we can imagine.

In the late 1960's, the United States Air Force deployed a couple of their then-brand new SR-71 Blackbird spy planes to Kadena Air Base in Okinawa, Japan. It was around that time this really inspiring quote emerged. Now I don't know who coined this saying but to me, this is a really great parallel to how the gospel can bless us: "Though I fly through the Valley of Death, I shall fear no evil. For I am at 80,000 feet and climbing." (Good luck converting that to the Metric System!) This "Valley of Death" can represent our hardships and our trials. And the ability to be at 80,000 feet and being able to continue the climb is a representation to how the gospel can bless us and how it has blessed us so far.

Following and staying up to date with current events and new around the world, even I find it astonishing regarding how technology and means of communications have become. Especially when it's used and abused  for all the wrong reasons, as was the case over in the Middle East and parts of North Africa; as a result of disrespect and wrongful use of the social media, drastic consequences have taken place. Even a simple, innocent status update on Facebook or any other social media network is subject to becoming a battle ground of heated discussion or debate in the form of ten plus comments.

Brothers and sisters despite all the negative things that happen or what's been said, we know which grounds to stand on; we don't need to (and shouldn't!) make unrighteous judgments or come up with false conclusions. My dad also taught me something (via E-mail) during a particularly frustrating time during my mission. In a nutshell, he taught me that we shouldn't disrespect different religious points-of-view and opinions. He said: "It's fine to harbor SOME ill-will towards others. It's human nature, and sometimes that's all we can do because of the type of people they are. But we should be careful about painting a whole group of people based on personalities, characteristics, and actions of just a couple of them. I realize it's impossible to completely ignore it but we should try not to be too judgmental of entire groups just based on the actions of a few jerk individuals."

Although not always the case unfortunately, mutual respect can only be achieved when the concept of disrespect (and unrighteous judgment) is thrown out the window. I remember at the end of my mission, I had the opportunity to visit some relatives who lived just north of Tokyo. At the time, well over 15 years have passed since I last saw them and my memory of them unfortunately was faint and little. Also, I haven't been officially released as a full-time missionary so I kept my name badge on; I just knew my Japanese relatives were gonna notice it. Before embarking on the long train ride to northern Japan, I uttered a prayer to Heavenly Father that I'll be able to explain to them what I have been doing regarding my service as a missionary for the church in a simple, understandable way. For some reason, I felt this inexplicable feeling of calmness. And I thought I heard someone say, "Don't worry about it! It's all taken care of." And was thinking, "How in the world is it taken care of? I haven't seen them for 15 years!" But I trusted the prompting and went with it. As we reunited with my grandmother, my aunt, and couple of my cousins, they noticed my missionary name badge and asked about it. And this is what shocked me: my mother, a non-member explained to her family to the best of her knowledge what I have been doing in Japan for two years. And there was positive reactions from my relatives; they were generally impressed considering I was able to re-learn the Japanese language. And as a result, we established mutual respect regarding our different religious beliefs and the our cultures.

During this time, this short family reunion, about the second or third day spending time with them, we visited the grave of my grandfather, Rokuro Tsunakawa. I wrote about this occasion in my mission journal and I'd like to read some portions of it to you today: (Tuesday, March 27, 2012) "It was a pretty laid back day spent here in the REAL rural Japan. Aunt Kazuko took my sisters shopping at a mall near central Utsunomiya and I got dragged along to serve as a translator (and I was fine with that!). After a little quality time, we visited Jichan (grandfather) Rokuro's grave to pay our respects, thus fulfilling our unfinished business here in the Tochigi Prefecture. I gotta say though, I experienced a wide range of emotions here. Though my memory of him is faint and little, I miss him. I miss grandfather a lot. Not being able to see him before he died  is only one of a small handful of things I regret to this day. It is hard to believe that it has been ten years now since he passed away."

My grandfather died of cancer. He was a heavy smoker so I know what killed him. But despite that, he was a well-respected rice farmer and a well-known man in the community. When we visited the graveyard, it was just a really beautiful site full of mixed trees and bamboo on this little hillside. And you can see vast amounts of rice fields in sight beyond the treeline. I couldn't imagine a more beautiful place to be put to rest. As we went to pay our respects, my aunt said to me in Japanese, "It's okay to not fully take part or understand the Japanese custom in doing this." I responded, "I don't fully understand the meaning of Buddhism, but I wish to respect it." And to this day brothers and sisters, that mutual respect we shared is more precious to me than ever. This visit wasn't about converting them to the LDS church. And it was most definitely not about condemning my late-grandfather's smoking habits that killed him. It was about acknowledging the mutual respect we had regarding our religious beliefs and the culture we inherited. And we achieved that!

After parting ways with my dear relatives overseas, I learned that life is meant for making memories. And I'm grateful for the memories I shared with them six months ago. I'm grateful for a loving Heavenly Father for watching over them when disaster struck the region nearly two years ago. I remember a story members have told me towards the end of my mission. It is a story of sacrifice regarding the earthquake that happened in Japan in March of 2011. And I'd like to pass it on to you today:

"After the earthquake subsided, rescuers reached the remains of a house of a young woman. They saw her crouching through the debris. With much difficulty, the paramedic team leader reached his hand through the cracks in the walls in order to touch the woman's body. He was hoping that this woman would still be alive. However, the cold, hard body confirmed that she was dead for sure. He and the rest of the team left the sight and went to search a building next door which also collapsed. For some reason, the team leader was driven by this irresistible force to return to the house they just abandoned."

Now as Latter-day Saints, we can assume that this man was guided by the Spirit.

"Again he knelt, and used his hands to reach through the cracks to find the narrow little space underneath the corpse. Suddenly he shouted "A child! There is a child!" The whole team worked together, as they carefully removed the piles of debris around the dead woman. There was a boy about three months old, wrapped in a blanket under the dead body of his mother. Obviously, the woman had made the ultimate sacrifice to save her son. As the house fell, she used her body as a shield in order to protect her child. The boy was peacefully sleeping when the team leader finally extracted him. A field doctor was called in quickly to take the boy. As he unwrapped the little blanket, he found a cell phone. There was an unsent text message on the screen. And the message said, 'If you can survive, you must remember I love you.' There wasn't a single dry eye among the group; as the cell phone was passed around, each individual involved in the rescue broke into tears."

"If you can survive, you must remember I love you."

Such is the love of a mother for her child! I can't help but imagine a loving Heavenly Father saying that to each and every one of us prior to beginning our mortal journey here. Brothers and sisters as weird as it may sound, we too are survivors because we live in a time where the gospel of Jesus Christ is in full force. So long as we live the gospel standards, we will continue to survive. In addition, we can also show others; that is why I cannot stress enough the importance of missionary work. There ARE people out there looking for the answers, looking for the reasons regarding the purpose of life.

No matter what the circumstances, no matter where we may end up, and no matter what trials we may face, remember this: Heavenly Father loves us. I have certainly felt His love over the last couple years, and especially these last six months during troubled times filled with trials and difficulties. Brothers and sisters, we can overcome our trials and we can keep on surviving. In the 21st chapter of Revelation, the fourth verse is a scripture that I always loved: And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away. (Revelation 21:4)

May we always continue to strive to live the gospel. May we always strive to remember missionary work and to remember those who are struggling for the answers. These are my thoughts and my testimony to you. And I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.