Oh, my.
My first encounter with Mormons was around 23 years ago. A close friend of mine, a sensitive young girl from a very tough family life and a broken home, befriended a new boy in school, a Mormon, and was totally swept away by the acceptance and friendship she received at the LDS church. I was very happy for her. She told me I would love the LDS church, too, and I was quite open to attending with her, because it sounded interesting and different, and I was dissatisfied with my own church (Episcopalian, for what it’s worth). She brought me a copy of the Book of Mormon, handed it over with great solemnity, convinced that it would change my life just as it had changed hers. I took it home and began reading.
By the end of page one I was skeptical. By the end of the first book of Nephi, I was upset. I kept reading, as the thing unfolded before my eyes getting more and more incredible. Even at the tender age of 16, without any past knowledge of the LDS church or of Joseph Smith’s weird history, I saw the BoM for what it was: a crude attempt by a marginally-educated individual or individuals to make up a new bible by copying the style of the KJV. I was floored by the blatant fabrication of history that the BoM relates, and could not believe that anyone in this day and time would fall for any of it.
There was no Internet that I could access to research it further, so I went to my mother and asked her what she knew. She told me that yes, the Mormon church is completely and utterly crazy, but that Mormons are generally very nice people and not dangerous, so it was OK - I didn’t need to worry for my friend. And she was glad I saw it for what it was.
I was honest with my friend, but not cruel, and while she was disappointed, she didn’t dump me or anything like that. We actually remained in touch for years afterward. She went to some Mormon college out west (Ricks, I think? In Idaho) and then on a mission to Peru. Ten years passed, we met up and had dinner. She was sick of the Mormons, she felt she’d wasted a decade on nothing, she’d decided I had been right all along, and she was in the process of getting out.
Long story to say that if Jesus had wanted me to become a Mormon, the outcome of that initial contact would have been a lot different, I think. All signs I have received have pointed me to the Catholic Church. I ignored them for years, thinking it couldn’t possibly be right. But finally the signs were too numerous to count. I will enter the Church next month and I could not be happier, because this is what Jesus wants.