Marvelous Work and a Wonder® Testimonials

My Story and Testimonial of the Marvelous Work and Wonder®

 

Introduction

Howdy from Wyoming! My name is Robyn. I’m no one special, just me, whoever that is, as I’m still trying to figure that out since coming to the knowledge of the real Marvelous Work and Wonder®. I feel like I’ve spent a lifetime trying to figure out who I am, to no avail. Oh, there was a time I thought I “knew” who I was, but since learning Real Truth®, I’m finding out I didn’t have a clue about anything, least of all who I “really” am. I used to view myself as a “spiritually minded” person, but everything I thought I knew was all based on lies I foolishly accepted as truth. And, although my current mortal life existence is inconsequential to the Marvelous Work and Wonder® (MWAW), I’m happy to share a little of my journey and testimony to the MWAW®.

When it came time for me to sit down and write, panic ensued. I’m not well-read, and they say it takes a well-read person to be a good writer. <shrugged shoulders> I’m not shooting for the stars here; I just want to tell my story as pointedly as I can. Achieving this hasn’t been easy, but it’s certainly been interesting to reflect upon the whole of my life [hopefully] with new eyes and put the pieces of myself back together that my own pride and ignorance shattered.

Currently, I’m a mortal mother of five humans—four from a previous marriage who are now grown and living their own lives. I’m a wife to my husband, a daughter to my adopted mother, and the eldest sibling to my adopted brother and sister. I homeschool our 8-year-old son and do my best to manage our home in spite of a deep sadness inside, which I feel the MWAW® has helped me understand better.

I’m quiet and unassuming by nature. I prefer to live in the background of life as I observe the world around me, trying to make sense of it all. I strive to be friendly and kind to everyone I meet, but I don’t have many close friends. I’ve always been the type of person who prefers to see the good in others, which has caused me trouble a time or two. Oftentimes, it’s overwhelmingly difficult for me to discern my own needs in the face of supporting others out of fear of injuring them in some way. I’m slowly learning that it’s okay to give myself the same space to be authentically me as I’ve tried to offer others. If I had to describe myself in song form, I’d choose a popular song performed by Alanis Morissette titled “Bitch,” and it isn’t because I’d refer to myself as such because I’m the opposite of what the word implies in how I treat others. But the lyrics ring true for me as a mortal battling my flesh. “I’m a little bit of everything all rolled into one; I’m a bitch; I’m a lover; I’m a child; I’m a mother; I’m a sinner; I’m a saint; I do not feel ashamed; I’m your hell; I’m your dream; I’m nothing in between. You know, you wouldn’t want it any other way.”

I suppose, in some respects, “who I am” depends on who you ask. But I reckon I’m the only one with the authority to determine who I really am. At my core, I’m a dreamer. My deepest desire is and has always been to live in a world where people live by the Golden Rule and are simply kind to each other.

Real Truth® penetrates the cloud of ignorance that plagues humanity because of pride and ego, and it is because of this that an individual, if willing, is able to see more clearly what’s been hiding in plain sight all along. Once my own cloud of ignorance was swept away by Real Truth®, it was as if I found myself in the midst of heaven.

Before learning about the MWAW®, I would say that my “belief” in “God” gave me strength to endure the challenges of life and got me through times when I’d experienced perceived unkindness or endured trials, but nothing seemed to ever change for me until I found this work. Once I was willing and able to let go of what I viewed as my foundation, this faith in “God,” I felt as if I were returning “home” because the Real Truth® just makes the most sense, clears up the muck created by “the precepts of men mingled with scriptures,” and answers questions you probably don’t even know you have.

Humble Beginnings

I was born in Las Vegas, Nevada, but I’ve spent the majority of my adult life in southwest Wyoming. I wasn’t always “Robyn.” My birth name was Terilyn Sorensen. My birth mother was only seventeen when I was born, and after just four short months, she decided she couldn’t give me the life she felt I deserved, so she placed me for adoption. My first adoptive parents named me Robin Lea Carter. I hated my name! The kids at school were relentless in making fun of me. They’d often sing “Rockin’ Robin”, and chant the popular “Batman smells” parody in my face. I didn’t enjoy that. My second adoptive mother changed the spelling of my first name to look “more feminine” after I declined her encouragement for me to change my name.

I wasn’t born in the Mormon Church, but after my first adoption at the age of two years old, the teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints became a predominant part of my upbringing [programming]. My childhood created many challenges for me as I endured all manner of abuses in my first adopted home at the hands of both parents. The traumas were so great that I blocked out most of my childhood memories and, to this day, I struggle with memory. When I was nine years old, I became a ward of the State of Nevada again and was placed in foster care until at the age of thirteen I was adopted for the second time in April 1987. I consider sharing this information as relevant only in presenting a vulnerability about myself and setting the stage for how this vulnerability shaped me, at least to the best of my ability at this time.

Growing up, I spent a great deal of time lost in my head trying to make sense of my childhood experiences. The things I learned at church played a major role in shaping how I processed them. I believe it was the teachings of eternal families that “got me” from a young age for reasons maybe someone who grew up feeling they were unwanted, unlovable, abandoned, bad, and hurt by people who were “supposed” to take care of you might understand. In the mind of a nine-year-old little girl… It was a lot to try to reconcile. I convinced myself there was something wrong with me, so much so that I was being punished, and that in order to “redeem” myself in the eyes of “God,” I had to live by every “command” of “God” [i.e., the church]. And that my reward would one day be an eternal family. And so when my temple marriage crumbled, life became an unquenchable storm as I stumbled about trying to put my life [myself] back together.

One of the few memories I have of being a child is when I was sealed to my first adoptive parents at about age four. I was groomed to be your typical staunch Mormon. I was baptized at age eight, attended all four years of young women’s girl’s camp, earned all the young women’s program awards between ages twelve and eighteen, participated in baptisms for the dead, graduated seminary, full-filed many “callings,” including serving in the presidencies of young women’s and primary off and on between the ages of twelve and forty-five, and nurtured my four eldest children in the Mormon culture, which all-in-all ought to testify to my devotion to the church and the Mormon God. At least until the demise of my fourteen-year-long temple marriage in December of 2008 and subsequent experiences that eventually led me to leave the church officially in the summer of 2019.

As I’ve said before, I spent a lot of time lost in my head daydreaming. Mental health professionals might call it dissociating, though. According to my husband, I still tend to zone out as if I’m traveling to other zip codes, which is a running joke between us. I really wanted to make sense of who I was, why I was here, why my life was playing out the way it was so diametrically unlike that of my peers, etc., so while my peers were doing whatever they did to “fit in”—planning their future, hanging out, playing or watching sports, figuring out who they were to the world—I felt like I had entered the twilight zone and wanted nothing more than to exit stage left.

I always felt different because of the things that I experienced, and so I never seemed to be able to find “my place” in the world. The best way I can think to explain it is that I felt like I stood out like someone had imprinted a scarlet letter on me. All I wanted was to be invisible, or at least to blend in. I didn’t want everyone to know the things that happened to me during the first nine years of my life, but they had to know because they treated me differently. At least, I thought they did. I felt “marked”. This feeling has haunted me throughout my life. I’ve often wondered what ways, if any, I’d be different had I not suffered the actions of my adopted father.

I was conditioned to be a typical “people pleaser”, never wanting to make waves, cause contention, or make issues for others (which isn’t necessarily a “bad” thing in and of itself) for fear of getting “in trouble.” Sometimes it’s hard to know what parts of myself are really me and what parts are the damaged pieces.

The LDS Mormon teachings on eternal families became my driving force. I saw it as my “saving grace” and a ticket out of this mad world where people are cruel and seemingly heartless. I considered temple marriage a way to “prove” myself as someone worthy to exist, someone deserving of what I grew up seeing others have—a happy family, a place to belong—so I wouldn’t stand out as I thought I did. I guess I wanted to feel like I was just like everybody else. No better, and equally no worse. And, definitely, not “marked.”

The Struggle is Real

No matter how turbulent life seemed at times, my “spiritual” nature convinced me I was not only on the right track but doing pretty well with the guidance and answers I foolishly believed I received from the “Mormon God”. Notwithstanding, many of my life’s challenges confused me because, no matter how hard I strived to align myself with what I thought was the truth, I failed because it simply wasn’t the firm foundation I once believed it was. Accepting that everything I “believed” was fiction of the strangest kind shook me deeply. Letting go of what I viewed as my foundation was bittersweet at first until I understood just how marvelous and sweet to the taste Real Truth® is. Knowing I know nothing has made all the difference.

For most of my life, I struggled to understand why people were so mean, especially those who on Sunday professed to love “God” and follow “Jesus Christ”. But at some point in my adult life, I began to recognize that people, myself included, had a weakness for conflating religion with the “true gospel”. I was forced to search for answers to help make sense of my experiences, and since I spent so much time in my head trying to reconcile the inconsistencies between what I thought I understood the “true gospel” to be and the actions of religious people (again, myself included), my perception of reality began to shift, especially near the end of my temple marriage. The reality of its failure was heartbreaking for me because I’d wrapped so much of my “worthiness” into temple marriage. It took my own “fall from grace” to essentially force me to start to question things I had never questioned before. As the next decade and a half raged on, my blinders began to fade, and I became vulnerable to new experiences that, in the end, prepared me to accept a new reality, one actually founded on Real Truth®.

If someone had told me at any point in my life that there would be a day when I would no longer believe the Mormon Church was the only “true church” and that the “Mormon God” as I understood “him” to be was a delusion, I would have laughed it off and called them crazy because my entire life I believed the church and its doctrines were my saving grace. I convinced myself that being a member of that church and living its standards as well as I could would keep me in God’s good graces and would eventually heal me from the traumas of my childhood. Come to find out, it was my devotion to the false teachings of that church that kept me chained to the “pit of hell.”

My life was turned upside down before I was prepared to accept the Real Truth®. They say it takes bringing someone to their knees for them to find “Jesus.” I certainly felt that I’d been brought to my knees enough times throughout my life that I “knew” him, but I was mistaken. At one point in my life, when I was transitioning out of the Mormon church and into this replica of it [the covenant group], I had a dream set on the Grand Mesa Mountain Range [which I’d never seen before] where I believed I walked and talked with “Jesus Christ.” I didn’t remember what he told me, but it didn’t matter. The only thing in the dream that mattered was the location. As we stood at the edge of the mountain, I was shown the valley below and took special notice of the formation of the mountain. And so when my family was driving to our first general conference held by this group of ex-Mormons and the mountains from my dream unfolded before my eyes, I was convinced we were on the “right” path, “spiritually.” After all, all roads lead somewhere, don’t they? Back to the covenant group later…

Everything in my little world seemed to culminate in one perfect storm, which brought me to my knees yet again—ultimately crumbling my “firm” foundation in the “Mormon God,” paving the way for Real Truth® to chart a new course for me. Real Truth® is proving to free me from mindsets that crippled me and kept me in bondage to my own pride as well as to the pride of others.

Understanding Real Truth® was heart-wrenching and disorienting for the first several months. My soul fell into turmoil because of the myriad of deceptions I allowed myself to believe and to control me my entire life. Worst of all, how these lies shaped me as a person and kept me chasing a carrot on the end of a stick, always striving to be “more” because I couldn’t just be good enough as I was. While at the same time being conditioned to believe I was special because I belonged to the “true church.” I understand now that this is essentially the same as believing I had more favor with “God” than non-members. How kind is that belief? It’s simply not true… For the scriptures tell us so… “God” is no respecter of persons. I understand now that I’m no better and equally no worse a person than anyone else in this god-forsaken world, no matter what I experience or what I believe. What a relief!

I suffered in my childhood in ways I wish no one else in this world or any other world would have to. I used to think the traumas I experienced shaped me to be a more empathetic, compassionate, stronger, and wiser person than most, but in my quest to make sense of it all (considering what I learned from religion), it just made me more ignorant and prideful. Real Truth® helped me see that I couldn’t have been more wrong in my thinking.

My Exodus

It was my experience that when someone left the church, the members assumed they left simply because they let themselves be offended by the actions of someone else. I suppose it’s easier to accept that as truth than to consider an alternative, especially one that doesn’t support the reasoning for holding to that rod of religion. I can’t speak for others, but this was not my reason for leaving. I chose to separate myself from a church I’d come to see as “corrupt” and that, at its core, lacked the “Spirit of Christ” it supposedly stood as a witness to. Nevertheless, I’d like to share an experience I had leading up to “my exodus.”

 

I labored tirelessly as an older (and out of shape) mother of an energetic, willful toddler, trying to faithfully attend Sunday meetings on my own. I commented to others about how this one child was like taking care of my eldest four, all wrapped into one. At this time, my husband worked over the road and was rarely home to offer me relief from my motherly duties. I had no other support system either. It was a struggle every Sunday to convince myself that it was worth going through the overwhelming effort to force my toddler to sit quietly in church meetings, only to fail more often than not. I simply didn’t have the stamina, both physically and mentally. But of course, I kept trying because I believed it was where I was supposed to be. I started to wonder why none of my Jesus-loving brothers and sisters ever offered to help me. I figured if someone would help me wrangle my little man I could at least sit through sacrament meetings and gain whatever I was supposed to gain from them. I missed more than I attended, and it wasn’t for a lack of wanting to “do the right thing.” One Sunday I was in the bishop’s office for a temple interview (I think) when he started to tell me a story about his faithful grandmother.

He told me how she was the mother of six small children, and her husband was either inactive or not a member, but that she walked herself and her six small children miles, sometimes in extreme weather, every Sunday, never missing one meeting because of her faithfulness to “God.” I know he meant well, but my spirit was offended. I asked myself if my worth to “God” had anything to do with whether or not I was able to be at church every Sunday, and the answer was a resounding “No!” I nodded my head as if I understood and agreed; I even smiled, but that was the last time I went back. Although I was initially offended—more caught off guard and confused, really—I didn’t base my decision to leave the church on this. In hindsight, it seems to me that my bishop’s motivational speech intended to prompt me to attend Sunday meetings regularly inadvertently challenged my deep-rooted childhood need to prove myself worthy at all costs.

I was met with the realization that my efforts were never and would never be good enough for myself or anyone else. I was broken down and tired of trying to live up to impossible standards, so I didn’t go back. I decided to let myself off the proverbial hook and instead chose to show myself and my son the kindness and love I continued to hope I’d receive from others yet never received. I simply didn’t like how I treated my son while struggling to get through three hours of church. I was constantly distraught and frustrated, and it came out on him as if he was doing something “wrong” when he was doing exactly what a toddler is supposed to do, which is to move about freely and be loud while doing it. After a lifetime of trying to gain value for myself in the sight of others and the unseen Mormon God, the Real Truth® helped me realize… I was not only complacent in treating others with the same unkindness that wearied my soul for years, but I was causing my own misery!

I hadn’t made any long-term decisions about the church at this point, but a door with no handle was now opened for me. Ironically, just a few months later, I walked right through another door only to find it offered the same bullshit as the mainstream church, just packaged a little differently. Yeah, really!

When I left the LDS Mormon Church, I clung fiercely to “my faith” and devotion to the Book of Mormon, unlike many who do leave the church. I revered Joseph Smith as a true prophet, and so did the covenant group I joined after leaving the main church. As such, it felt “right” to be a part of their religious movement. I felt like I was being led to greener pastures. I felt like I was on top of the world, “spiritually” speaking. The mind can believe anything it wants to, but that doesn’t mean it’s the Real Truth®.

The Eye of the Storm

In January 2019, I found a group of ex-Mormons who were flocking to the voice of (what I can now say) a false prophet. I fell hook, line, and sinker. So much so that I let my imagination run wilder than it ever had before as a member of the LDS church. As a whole, they really didn’t want to claim to be a group, but they were a group. This group didn’t have an official name but referred to themselves as the covenant group because they considered themselves to be a remnant of the House of Israel, whose mission was to bring about “Zion,” or the Kingdom of God on Earth. And they were doing it better than any of the previous Mormon sects, so it seemed to them.

The “speaker of the house” blew me away in the beginning because he “revealed” things I had never heard before. While their prophet never claimed to be a prophet, the people were in awe of him and revered him as such. Some even claimed he was Joseph Smith in a prior incarnate coming back again to fulfill the prophecy of the second coming of Jesus Christ. Notwithstanding, I thought I was finally receiving the meat of the gospel because of all the talk about receiving the second comforter and experiencing baptism by fire. These were things you heard of now and again at church, but they weren’t part of the regular LDS church curriculum, so unless you actually read the scriptures, you wouldn’t recognize the terms. It was during this time that I really started to dig into the Book of Mormon. It was my sincere desire to have a full understanding. I wanted the “good stuff”! I wanted to have my meeting with “Jesus,” and I foolishly [like a lamb to the slaughter] believed this “humble” leader was the one who was going to teach me how to receive the second comforter! Yeah really!

The covenant group held bi-annual general conferences in different locations across the globe, performed the ordinance of re-baptism, performed the sacrament ordinance during fellowship gatherings, initiated a system for tithing, and started to build a temple fund. I was re-baptized three times in a matter of two years, and I was happy to do it to wash away all my dastardly “sins”. Each baptism came with a new understanding of the “mysteries,” and I was growing closer to receiving the second comforter. I could just feel it! I was on a “spiritual” high! I had many noteworthy dreams during this time as well. Dreams that strangely hinted at experiences I later had solidified for me that I was on the right track. Eventually, I convinced myself that my family and I were going to not only be a part of the “gathering for Zion”, but that we were going to be one of the first families to participate in the prophesied event. Yeah, really! <smh>

I didn’t know how to navigate this period of my life, especially when it came to those closest to me. My husband and I decided to follow the lead of the first friends we met in this group, the “other Walter family.” Consequentially, I followed their lead and wrote a letter to our kids and my immediate family members. Our beloved “other Walter family” became our family and supported us more than we had ever felt supported in our lives thus far. My letter expressed our intentions to leave the Mormon Church, explaining that I learned from inside the pages of the Book of Mormon that the church was under condemnation. I told them I was more than happy to answer any questions they might have about the news and to not be afraid to discuss concerns with me, but no one responded. Why would they? I wanted to be upfront and honest and basically put everyone on notice so they knew what they could expect of me in the future. I guess I partly thought I owed them an explanation, even though I really didn’t. I also hoped my newfound knowledge would help them start asking their own questions. I wish I hadn’t written that letter. I’ll explain why later.

My Exodus: Take Two

Shortly after joining this group, my husband lost his job, and as such, we knew it wouldn’t be long before we would not be able to pay our rent. Coincidentally, I received an email from an old boyfriend from my college days who reached out because his wife recently left him and their two children. We exchanged each other’s plights, and he ended up inviting my family to move into his basement in Sandy, Utah, for as long as it took for us to get back on our feet. We ended up living in his basement for two years, and we probably would have stayed longer if my husband wasn’t fired again, but he was.

This time we reached out to our brothers and sisters in the covenant group, pleading for any help for employment and a place to live. My generous friend was beginning to receive flak from his ex-wife (who paid the house payment) about us still being in the basement. His parents’ health was also declining, and so he was becoming concerned that they would need to move in. Hence, we needed to make new living arrangements as soon as possible.

My husband received a phone call from a “sister” from the covenant group living in Bonners Ferry, Idaho. By the end of that phone call, we had an invitation to join her and her family on their little homestead. We believed it was an answer to our prayers! Our agreement was for us to help with homesteading chores in exchange for room and board. To make a long story short, there was another family from Canada also living on their property. The goal was that the three families would live and work together and become a people “worthy” to usher in the Kingdom of Heaven on Earth. Yeah, really!

It didn’t take long before disputes occurred between the families. The grisly details don’t matter as much as the lessons learned from the experience do. I’ll just say that within four months’ time, it became quite clear that we could no longer participate in the “gathering”. In fact, I became so distraught over the situation that I feared for our safety. Both our family and the other family who relocated to join the family who owned the property started making plans to leave. When the main family learned of our plans to leave, we were immediately and sternly disfellowshipped, as if we hadn’t already excused ourselves. My friend and I both received priestly “wo unto you” and “God knows the truth” condemnations for having the mind to run as fast as we could, far, far away from that place.

Our families were given two weeks to leave the premises. Keep in mind that both our families had nothing. Our family was living on unemployment while my husband worked towards a new career path, and the other family (having 8 children) wasn’t in better circumstances. We were clearly the “have-nots”. Not only did the main family own a large home and land, but they also had a huge barn full of enough clothing and supplies to sustain several families and substantial food storage. They also had a direct calling from “God” to be the keepers at the gate of the gathering. They weeded out several other families before ours, so they must have been doing something right, right? I didn’t want to be a thorn in anyone’s side anyway, so I was glad to leave. All fun aside, one of my dreams prompted me to see myself as a reflection of the family, more specifically, the lady of the main house. More on this later…

Because of our financial situation, we had to depend on others to help us relocate, and so a couple of men from the covenant group from Colorado came to “rescue” us. Of course, they (the men) were in the process of working out new plans to use the sawmill equipment of the other family to carry out the same goals of building “Zion,” and so they were willing to help their family move in exchange for what they hoped to gain from the use of the sawmill. My family just got lucky to be adored by the other family, and so we were able to “escape” on the tails of the sawmill.

As I sat in the backseat of the truck with my son, escaping out of the “hell” we found ourselves in, I was shell-shocked. I remember sitting there almost numb but with enough feeling to notice a tear streaming down my face. I thought back to the time I was taken from the playground in third grade and placed in the police car as they took me to Child Haven, rescued from my childhood hell. I didn’t realize then that I was being rescued, just like I didn’t realize at this moment that I was soon to be rescued from the hell that lived inside my own head.

We were forced to pull off the road on our travels because we ran into inclement weather and road conditions. Interestingly, we just so happened to be in the town my brother and his family live in, and my mother was there visiting. We invited ourselves to stay at their home for the night to let the roads clear up. I only mention this to explain why I wish I hadn’t written the letter to reveal my intentions to leave the church. The contents of the letter didn’t change who I was at my core. I was still me, whether I was a member of that church or not. I still felt a “connection” to someone—something—not of this world that I couldn’t explain but sought to discover. But it didn’t matter to anyone else except me, and rightfully so. My leaving the church didn’t seem to affect my children or siblings, but the night we stayed at my brother’s house, my mother made it blatantly clear how she viewed me now that I wasn’t a member of that church.

There is little doubt she was worried about me and my family because it was easy to see. I also kept her in the dark about much of the goings on in my life since I left the church, especially this covenant group I was now fleeing. So I could understand her being distraught and not understanding what was going on with me. We lived without many modern conveniences while living on the homestead, like running water, a bathroom of our own, etc. But as I was in the middle of explaining myself in an effort to help ease her mind, I told her not to worry and that we were in “God’s” hands. I hoped it would bring her peace. It didn’t. She turned to me with a disgusted look on her face and said, “Don’t you dare talk to me about ‘God!’” I learned my lesson. There was no mistaking who I’d become in her eyes, and my efforts to offer her peace didn’t matter. If I hadn’t written the letter, then I wouldn’t have given her a reason to see me any differently than before. In the moment, I simply wanted to love her… it didn’t matter how she saw me. Perhaps I wouldn’t have grieved her soul as I clearly did, which makes me sad. Nevertheless, in my mind, it was okay for her to see me in whatever manner she chose because, after learning Real Truth,® I knew her vantage point was skewed.

All of this was a period of about three years from the time I left the mainstream church and found myself questioning the covenant group. I began to see the covenant group exactly like the main church I left behind—the MWAW® came into my life at the right time!

Once again, my “spiritual” nature seemingly led me down a darkened path. I couldn’t make sense of how something meant to produce “good” fruit could produce such “bad” results. It wasn’t the first time I had to face the same reality. I asked myself over and over again, How could something so right turn out so wrong? Treading carefully not to demonize the main family who virtually kicked my penniless family out onto the streets, I searched the depths of my soul to try and make sense of what had just transpired in Bonners Ferry. How could “they” do this? Don’t they realize our situation? How could people who claim to love “Jesus” and claim to want to help us out of a bad situation justify worsening our situation? My answer was the same answer I received in my mind eighteen years earlier when my ex-husband told me “God” gave our four-year-old son cancer to save our failing marriage. “I don’t think I believe in the same ‘god’ you believe in.” Enter the Marvelous Work and Wonder®…

Midst of Heaven

After finding refuge with an old friend from my earlier life in Wyoming, I miraculously found The Sealed Portion in the spring of 2022. “Ripe for the taking,” if you will, I happened upon a quote of scripture from the Book of Nephi on my Facebook newsfeed that I found to be curious because the scripture was referenced as “TSP” and not the Book of Mormon as I expected. I decided to message the person who posted it and ask them what “TSP” meant. I don’t know if I was really that dumb to not know or if I just wanted clarity, but he did clarify that it referenced The Sealed Portion. I was skeptical yet excited about the possibility of it being the actual sealed portion prophesied about in the Book of Mormon, as it had been on my mind since joining the covenant group.

I began reading the Book of Lehi and was immediately drawn in. After I read that portion and skimmed through the rest, I searched for more information about the “author,” which led me to an interview Christopher participated in with a guy named Robert Pace. I was immediately impressed with Christopher’s presence and the words he was speaking, so I searched for more and found one of the websites. I couldn’t get enough; I just wanted more of the Real Truth®!

I haven’t always loved thunderstorms. It wasn’t until I was much older that I learned to appreciate aspects of a storm that used to scare me: the sound of the thunder, the sight of the lightning striking the earth, the smell of the rain hitting the desert fields in the distance of the city, until the sweet sound of silence screams, “You’re safe now.” And when the noise of thunder and lightning begins to fade, you’re left with the smell of the soaked desert sage ruminating in the air like a hug from heaven. I love the smell of sage after it rains!

Once I finally decided to dig into the treasure that found me after the wreckage of the previous years and was able to process everything, I felt as though I received a hug from heaven welcoming me home. All that I was learning felt strangely familiar, but at first, it came with a feeling of discomfort because it challenged everything I thought I knew, so I decided to proceed with some caution. I swiftly learned that Real Truth® cuts through pride and ignorance. It’s how I know it’s the real truth! It’s quite refreshing compared to the “All is well in Zion” bullshit that exists in the Mormon culture, which grew to be quite nauseating for me. Unless you’re humbled enough to become like a little child willing to allow Real Truth® to set you free, you’re going to remain in the blindness of pride, whether it’s your own or borrowed.

Real Truth® comes “line upon line, precept upon precept,” as it doesn’t happen overnight. It’s hard-earned, at least; I feel that’s been my experience. Realizing what an idiot I was and just how foolish I’d been leading up to accepting Real Truth® broke my heart. It hurt more than words can express to feel like so much of my life had been lost or wasted because most of my life’s decisions were based on false teachings. Many of which never brought me the happiness and peace I sought, no matter how hard I tried to fit the mold of Mormondom. I can’t help but liken it to the conversion story of Paul in the Bible, except instead of being converted to Christianity, I’ve been converted out of religion and into the loving arms of Real Truth®. It’s interesting that if you do an etymological search of the word “religion,” you will find it means “to bind.” I recommend reading “The True History of Religion,” as it is extremely eye-opening. There’s also an audio version available on the MWAW® YouTube channel.

I spent the next several months reading and watching everything I could get my eyes and ears on! I dove into “Sacred, Not Secret: The Official Guide in Understanding the LDS Temple Endowment” first because I desired to gain a better understanding of the temple endowment. I was dumbfounded! After having sat through a handful of endowment sessions and failing to “get it,” I could finally see more clearly all the ways I’d been deaf, blind, and dumb. Next, I devoured “666, The Mark of America—Seat of the Beast” and then moved on to “The True History of Religion.” When I was finished with those books, I decided I needed more and searched YouTube again. I found the MWAW® channel and began viewing the “Coffee with Christopher” episodes.

My life quickly turned upside down, or rather, flipped upright, for the first time as I continued to feast on Real Truth®. It was a humbling experience that nearly crippled my soul because of the painful realization of how blind I was and how my ignorance and pride caused me to treat myself and others. Thankfully, the game of life isn’t over for me yet because I realized I was in the midst of heaven and it was unfolding before my eyes.

When I was a young girl, I had a dream that I had woken up and walked out of my house searching for someone, anyone, but there was no one to be found. There was only myself standing in a heavy mist of fog that made it impossible to see anything beyond my immediate surroundings. I sheepishly walked up and down the street through the fog, which seemed to get thicker and thicker with every step. The feeling around me was heavy and surreal as I wandered, scared and alone, calling out in hopes of finding someone. Eventually, I surrendered and made my way back through the fog, returning safely home again.

This dream has lived in the background of my mind all this time, and now as I’m contemplating the whole of my life, I can’t help but think how strangely fitting it is that the dream could represent how I’ve journeyed through a good portion of my life blinded by faith in an unseen god, unknowingly lost in unbelief, searching for something to fill a void inside myself that nothing seemed to fill until I was awakened to the reality of my awful situation and opened my eyes to Real Truth®. Finally returning safely home, I found I’d been in the midst of heaven all along because it lives inside of me and everyone else. I just needed a true messenger to clear up the mist of fog that surrounded me.

True Freedom

In preparing to write “my story” I was reflecting on my teenage years and how important it was for me to find my “soulmate” so we could go to the temple and live “happily ever after” and I remembered how obsessed I was with a church film titled “Saturday’s Warriors”. The storyline of male and female living before mortality and then finding each other in mortality just seemed to “get me.” <cringe> One of the characters said something to the effect of “Freedom is knowing who you are.” Since I spent so much time in my early years trying to survive by pleasing others and trying to prove that I was worth having around, I was too distracted by finding value for myself through the acceptance of others to understand my own heart and mind, or, in other words, to know who I am.

Everything up until this point was an illusion. It was all a bunch of smoke and mirrors, distracting me from the true reality of who I am and what I’m doing here.

Prior to reading the Real Illuminati’s® book titled “Human Reality,” wherein the Real Truth® about who we are and why we exist is explained, I had a dark dream that presented the game of mortal life in a kind of creepy way. In it, I was clearly playing a role of sorts in a similar fashion to the popular television reality show called “Survivor.” Except instead of simply getting voted off the island, the other players in the game were constantly trying to kill me. At the end of the game, I was walking off the “stage of life,” and when I peered through the backstage curtain, there was a crowd of familiar faces clapping and celebrating the job I’d done playing my part. Wild, huh?

I kept having these types of dreams during this period of time, and so I felt like I had to take them seriously enough to consider them. And so, when I began to do as my other dream prompted me, seeing my own reflection in the actions of the lady at the main house in Bonners Ferry, I became aware of my own hypocrisy and failings. I no longer felt angry or hurt at the family because I understood the how and why of their actions. I realized that I had my own part to play in creating the mess that transpired in the mountains of Idaho. And it’s that understanding that filled my soul with compassion and peace, not only for that family but for everyone I ever came into contact with. I’m still working on that compassion for myself! I wouldn’t have been able to reconcile any of my life’s experiences without the MWAW® shedding light on who we are, where we come from, and where we are going. I would’ve remained in the darkness of my ignorance and pride.

Final Thoughts

The Marvelous Work and Wonder® helped me gain a greater perspective on the world we live in and the people around me. I’m no longer confused by the so-called truths I thought I knew because Real Truth®️ removes stumbling blocks. I worry less and less about things in this world that just don’t matter as much as I once thought they did and concern myself more with things that truly matter. I find comfort in having a clear blueprint for how to treat others (including myself) that’s not tainted by false doctrines. I’m growing more and more comfortable in my own skin as I learn to trust and love myself, which helps me to be more compassionate and kind to others than ever before. I’m at peace knowing that I no longer have to try and make sense of things that simply don’t make sense.

The Real Truth® is a HUGE dose of humble pie, and if it doesn’t bring you to your knees in sorrow for the wretched person you’ve been because of the deception and delusion of religion as it has for me, then… you’re a better person than me. I hardly managed to get out of bed for months while I contemplated and reflected on the whole of my life in an attempt to judge how my past religious beliefs influenced how I thought and acted toward others. I find solace in knowing there’s a true messenger uncloaking the “all is well in Zion” bullshit. And it’s the most refreshing, sharp, two-edged sword that undeniably cuts deep into my soul. It’s how I can tell it’s Real Truth®! It’s my greatest treasure.

If you want to know Real Truth® you have to be willing to question everything you thought you knew. You have to become like a little child. You must be willing to let yourself and everything you thought you knew burn to ash so you’re able to be reborn in Real Truth®. There is no other way.

In the end, I’m just me. I accept myself simply because I exist. I know where I came from, who I am in this mortal flesh, and where I will go after this life. I’m learning to trust the dictates of my own soul because I’m the captain of my ship. In spite of my mortal weaknesses, all I’ve ever wanted is for everyone to live by the Golden Rule and for peace and true happiness to exist among all humans. Oh! And I no longer belong to any religion!

I support the only true messenger that exists on this earth, Christopher, and his role in the Marvelous Work and Wonder®. I have no doubt the solutions to end world poverty and all else that plagues humanity, as prescribed by the Real Illuminati®, are the answers to world peace. If you’re someone who wants to take action in solving world poverty, then visit the Humanity Party website to learn what you can do.

I can be contacted by email at rockinrobynlea@gmail.com or by text at (+1) 307-448-0115. (Please note: I can’t receive calls unless I have your contact information on my phone.)