This thought of the day came about after speaking with an uncle of mine earlier this week and our conversation regarding my great-grandmother’s ethnicity.
After we ended our call I began wondering once again why the Church would’ve allowed this side of my family into their exclusive priesthood back in the late 1800’s when they emigrated here. Half my family qualifies for the very Mormon coveted status of ‘white and delightsome’ and the other half…well, not so much. They’re black Welsh. Oops.
This topic has been the thorn in my side for as long as I can remember. I prayed and repented countless times as a child for my so-called rejection of Jesus in the pre-existence. My coloring was a sure sign of early apostasy on my part and to say that shame ran deep would be an understatement.
