Monica Cook


Long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away… I was born in the “City of the Eternal Spring” in Peru. I was the product of my parents having fun before getting married. I am the first of 4 siblings. My parents worked for the Peruvian Healthcare system as medical assistants. I do not have very many memories of when I was younger than 3 or 4 years old but maybe some broken images of an earthquake. And memories a little bit after 4, are those of my mother always bringing something to eat and dividing it in 4 pieces, and of my dad playing with us in the backyard.

My parents took lots of pictures of me as their first child. My primary school teacher described me as a “little devil” because I was always up and down running, jumping, sliding, etc and always ended up with a “red face.” When I was 7 years old, I remember one of my siblings being shy and other kids picking on him, I was always trying to defend him even against older boys. Once, I got hit on the chest for trying to defend him. I am not sure why, but I always felt like I needed to defend the defenseless, even if that got me into trouble. There were other kids in my street who also were shy, and the other “cool” kids mocked and made fun of them. I was their friend, but I wished I could do more for them. Some of these kids lost their mind and had to be on medication. As the kids in my street became adults, we got separated and I feel bad that I lost contact with them, even more, when I came to the USA.

I think I was a happy child, nothing out of ordinary, so, I hope my story is not too boring. My parents were always working, but we were never alone as our great grandma was initially living with us until she died when I was seven. After that period of time, we always had a sitter living with us who would cook, clean, and do all the work at home. I remember we often changed sitters, and later in life I was appraised of the reason, and it was not because we were incorrigible, but due to other family issues.

We were not rich nor poor but had enough for our needs. There were times when we did not have too much choice than to eat food in not a good state, I wonder how we did not get sick back then. My mother had to go work for her rich part of her family to be able to get cloth for us. We always had only one present for Christmas, and sometimes it was clothing. On a different topic, I always liked to experiment with things. My siblings and I would put a thick wool blanket on the stairs and sled all the way down. I would make a swing with bed sheets and hold my siblings while swinging, sometimes someone would go flying off; we did not get too hurt though. When we were out, we liked to get up to the unfinished 1 floor buildings and run and play tag on top of those walls without fear of falling. I only got hurt once when running upstairs at home I turned fast into the bathroom and hit the marble toilet paper holder with my forehead. I got 2 or 3 stitches.

As a child I was free, I had so much fun. This is the fun I wished for my son who has been deprived of sibling play or even close cousins due to life circumstances.

I feel I was a child for a long time; up until I started feeling responsibility for others in my surroundings. I remember being 7 years old and wanting to help with the dishes, I was rewarded with that chore as my responsibility from then on. After a while, I did not like it, as this subtracted from my play time. I adapted and went along with the expectations, but the fact that I continued to play helped me bear with unwanted responsibilities. In my daily mischievous play, I often made mistakes that ended up breaking something of value to my parents. We expected physical punishment with a belt or with the end tail of an artificial flower. Boy, was that painful! and for days left marks on our skin. I would get 5 lashes and my siblings would get 1 or 2 less than me according to their age. As we grew older, I was always the one who got the most lashes. In time, I learned to put on layers of cloth to prevent too much pain until my parents discovered my secret. I do not blame my parents for the way they corrected my behavior, they learned it from their parents. They did the best they could with what they knew at the moment. Yet, I feel like I was a happy child despite the punishments I received for exercising my freedom to do what I wanted and, in so doing, making mistakes.


I feel my childhood ended at about 12 years old. I wonder why, maybe hormones, maybe our family circumstances. I remember that I turned from being an outgoing happy kid to be a sad, shy, introverted person. When I started noticing that my parents were having problems, I became the middle ground for them. Later, I learned that we got a step-sister to whom I never really talked to and when I tried, I ruined the “almost” relationship with my Mormon self-righteous words and the ideas I was taught by my hurting mother. I often would be my mother’s crying shoulder, and also my dad’s, when he was drunk and sharing his remorse. I would become the sponge that absorbed the bad feelings/actions from them to each other and delivered a more caring message to avoid worsening situations.

My adolescent years were all very similar to when I turned 12. I had few friends, and when for any reason they would give me their back, I would suffer in silence for a time. These episodes did not last longer though. I would soon forget and continue our friendship. I would like boys, but there was always a girl, who was quicker and smarter than me in that sense, who ended up with the boy I liked. This was the time of platonic love for me, that at that moment, it seemed so devastating.


I never hated school. I was always waiting for recess and for the fun that I would have. In middle and high school, I liked all topics but more so, I was interested in the plants and animals’ parts and functions; this was nothing compared to when I learned about the human body. I was fascinated with its anatomy and physiology not only on the macroscopic level but in the cellular and chemical levels along with the physics that go with it. So, I had dogs and I loved to play with them and receive their love. I would be the one who would pick their fleas off, so they were not tormented with scratching. Once, I helped a dove that was hurt by my dog, I fed it and tended to its wound until the feathers started to grow, only to have my playful dog play with it again. This time the dove did not make it despite all my efforts. Other experiences included me helping my dad when he would come drunk; I would stay with him as he feared vomiting and cleaned it all afterwards. On one funny occasion I was helping my brother as he was vomiting and asked my sister to stay with him while I ran down to get cleaning supplies; when I came back they were both vomiting in the same toilet.

I think as I spent my time helping others near me that needed help and as I enjoyed the knowledge of how life is formed and how it can continue in a healthy path, that I later decided to be a nurse. My mother wanted me to be a doctor; I tried for her, but my scores only allowed me to go for Nursing school. In Peru, we finished high school at the age of 16, so I had time to go to preparatory classes to get into a University. We have free University in Peru as well as Private ones. I did not pay a penny for my schooling, other than one set of books that my dad got for me, my bus tickets and some supplies needed for some classes. I went to the library for most of my required schoolwork. Now that I think back, this must as well have been a way I used to avoid being home all the time while dealing with my parents’ situation.


In the midst of the turmoil of my family’s situation (where 2 of the 4 siblings became withdrawn/shy/depressed and 2 of them became super outgoing trying alcohol and drugs), and being from a catholic upbringing with very low attendance to that church, we ended up learning about the Mormon Church and its Book of Mormon. To be honest, at this point in our lives, this church helped us not to go on the deep end, with the HOPE of a better world. As we got involved with it, all of us got baptized at different times but my father. As we became super active, our restful weekends became the busiest days of the week filled with church responsibilities and callings. Was at this time when we also become involved with talent shows singing, dancing, and portraying Book of Mormon stories scenes. We became famous in our ward and stake not only for our talents but for our dedication to the church.

Everyone was surprised when I announced in a stake talk (pushed by my leaders) that I was leaving on a mission. I had to postpone my university studies for 18 months. My teachers strongly disagreed with what I had decided and threatened me with the consequences. I did not care, I wanted to share the gospel so others could be as happy as I was. I erroneously interfered with their lives and “showed them the better way,” My pride and ego deceived me into believing that it was for the good of them. As it would continue to deceive me to continue serving at any capacity I could in the church after my mission, I would always pray and fast, I would go to the temple as often as I could, I would do genealogy work as much as I could, I would open my mouth to share the gospel found in the Book of Mormon.

I was always a romantic person. I dreamed of finding someone with whom I could share my life with. After being a member of the LDS church, I had no doubt that this could be possible. I liked someone before my mission and 2 more boys after my mission while I was in Peru. And in the USA, I only allowed myself to have a crush on 1 boy in my singles ward, before I met my husband. At every one of these instances, there was someone else more experienced than me that took the boy, who was initially interested in me, to be with them. Growing up I was kissed in the most bizarre circumstances. One was in a game as a punishment when I was 12, my cousin kissed me when I was asleep, my sister's ex-boyfriend kissed me when I was trying to console him after my sister broke up with him. In the church one of the married priesthood holders also kissed me. While on my mission, I confessed to my Mission President as I felt guilty of having been kissed by a married man and felt unworthy of being a missionary; who with such relief (that I did not break the Law of Chastity) told me that the Lord had forgiven me.

Back from my mission being an endless romantic and being very actively engaged on church affairs, other married priesthood leaders would take advantage to hug me, telling me that I was the kind of person they wanted for the mother of their children. I had other guy tell me that he had prayed, fasted, gone to the temple, and the Lord answered that I was supposed to be his wife; after overcoming my guilt of not liking him for that purpose, I resorted to the scripture in D&C that says, that we both needed to rejoice and both needed to be edified about this answer, and I was not. It has always been hard for me to do or say something that I know could hurt someone’s feelings.

Being in Utah was not different than Peru in the personal relationships’ aspect. I remember not having a car and waiting in the snow for the bus. In those days if someone from my ward, young or the bishopric saw me on the streets, they usually offered me a ride. I saw one car stopping that seemed someone older in the night, I thought this was a member of the bishopric. I got into the car, and I saw someone in short pants. It was then that I realized my mistake. But trusting that I was in Utah (I used to think that there were many good people that just wanted to help out) I did not ask him to stop the car, I apologized for the confusion and told him where I lived. Before getting to my place he asked me if we could go out on a date, I did not want to make him feel bad and just said that I never date anyone that I just met for the first time. He let me off and I thanked him for the ride. My roommate almost ate me alive for doing that. She said I could have been raped. My love life was always to the extent of platonic loves for many years. Before and after my mission, I just didn’t know what to do to get a boy’s attention. I guess I didn’t realize that I already had their attention but maybe, they expected more of me. I, instead, got really excited when 2 people were dating, but if they had doubts about their relationship somehow, they would come to me to talk about it. I would become the cupid of my ward, helping (in my mind) several couples to end up getting engaged and married. Whether or not I helped, I got excited that they got what I did not have. I don’t know how they are doing nowadays. I was very naïve, always thinking that the Lord would help all in their relationships if they had the desire to be together and were faithful to God, that God will provide everything and anything, no matter what.


I was living my life in Peru, I had met a boy and after a while of being friends, I started having feelings for him, I think this is the only boy previous to my husband that did not let other girls be in the middle. We were always friends and we really never went on a date, I sensed we liked each other, he was younger than me and he had to go on a mission. So, I encouraged him to do so. We would write to each other pretty often while on his mission. But there was a time, few months previous to his return, that I felt a literal break in the desire to continue to write to him. I could not understand what had come upon me. At about this time, my sister (who had moved to US with her husband) asked me to apply for a student visa, she said that she was pregnant, and she needed some help. I was a believer that one should stay in their place of origin to build the Stakes of Zion in our own countries.

Fueled by the disconnection from that boy in his mission and to do what God wanted me to do, I prayed, fasted, read my Patriarchal Blessing and went to the temple to get an answer. I did not get much but expected God to open doors if I was to go with my sister, otherwise to close those doors. By then, I was by the end of my nursing schooling and I was to sustain my thesis in December of that year. I was not accepted by the US embassy and that was my answer. When I told my sister, she insisted that I at least try one more time, that sometimes God tries our faith. I accepted the challenge, telling her that this would be the last time but if I’d get the same answer I would not attempt again. It turned out that I was accepted the 2nd time and I felt an overwhelming joy but also became undecisive as the boy I told you about was still writing to me, I was still not answering and he was to return from his mission at the end of September. Not sure how, but I arranged to travel the day prior to his return. I also did not present my Thesis in school.


I had been accepted to LDS Business College. I studied subjects that were somewhat related to my Nursing degree, and English as a Second language. My sister was living on the University of Utah (UoU) campus as her husband was in that school. I got to go to one of the singles wards of the UoU. There were some nice people there who spoke Spanish who became my friends, but they would leave me by myself to practice my English. I made many mistakes while speaking English (I thought I knew how to speak it; learning it in school and practicing are 2 different things,) however, in time I got around with no problems. I was living with my sister until I was forced to sleep in another place due to private issues that are not mine to tell. I ended up sleeping secretly in the church for 3 nights. I made sure that on Sunday morning I was not found on the sofa, but instead I slept on a bench in the bathroom, I hid my clothes there, so when I heard people and the lights were turning on, I immediately went to the bathroom cubicle and changed into my Sunday clothes.

I confessed what I did to my bishop, and he found a place for me free of charge for the summer. It was at that place that I found out from a Taiwanese student that there was a test that foreign nurses could take in order to become nurses in the USA, but she told me that with my English limitations I would never get to do it.

After that summer place, my bishop found a girl that had free rent from her hometown and an extra room to spare. He told me that I could be a blessing in her life. I think she was a “blessing” for me. I had a place to stay when I had no money or a job to get it, and a new friend.


As I saw that I was getting a minimum wage (a little over $5) at LDS Business College as a dishwasher and only being able to work part time with my student visa status, I thought I might give it a try taking the special test (CGFNS, Commission on Graduates of Foreign Nursing Schools) that would allow me to hopefully work as a nurse. So, I did it, passed the test, got licensed as an RN in Utah and started working at the UoU part time (due to my visa status). Note: None of this would have been possible, had I not gone back home to Peru 3 months after I came to the USA being home sick. I finished my thesis presentation then, and after seeing the boy who returned from his mission one last time, my parents sent me back. My mother had spent a lot of money to get me a plane ticket back, I felt I owed to her to return to the USA, plus that boy had said that if he had a reason to go to USA, he would go and find that reason.

Working as an RN gave me the chance to help pay some rent to my roommate and buy my own food. I loved working in the Maternity Unit at the UoU Hospital; I got to see babies all the time. After a few months working there, I was petitioned by the UoU Hospital to be a Resident of the USA, as they wanted me to work full time. I became a Resident 1 year later and changed my status from that of a Student. Before I became a Resident, I had started taking some classes at the UoU but I thought those classes were very expensive and were leading me no were. I was forced to take classes to keep my student visa status. So, I decided to take the GRE (Graduate Record Examination) and apply to graduate school. I did not finish the GRE test as I was too slow to read the questions. I was later contacted by the Utah College of Nursing stating that they accepted my application, and I could start graduate school. I finished 1 or 2 quarters of schooling when I became a Resident. I now could obtain ½ tuition reimbursement as a full-time worker. I could also apply for scholarships. I could not believe that I would get a scholarship if I worked full time and go to school full time as well. So, I never had to pay any school loans. I finished school and was able to work as a Women’s Health Nurse Practitioner.


Before and after coming to the USA, I truly never had what I was looking for. When I first moved to the singles ward in Utah, there were 2 things that marked me; I remember being in the tail end of the age group at that time when a guy asked my age, when I told him, he subtly left me by myself. Another was when some girls were complaining of not having been on a date for some weeks, and I then mentioned that I had not really dated for years (it was a lie, I had never really dated anyone), she told me “What a pathetic life!”. Since then I hid my age and condition of “a nun” to avoid humiliation. I got to go out on a date for the 1st time with a boy in Utah, after 3 or 4 times of him taking me to his family gatherings, the same story as usual happened. Even when we never kissed or held hands, I suffered as usual. I moved to a family ward away from the drama of my inability of being in a relationship. By that time, I finished graduate school and was thinking of moving out of state. I had 2 surgeries with my great UoU Hospital Health Insurance: Bilateral Pterigion removal in my eyes and a bunion fixed (I was on crutches for a while.)

When I finished school, I applied for NP jobs in different states. I lost my phone during those days, so I later realized I had missed some interview appointments. I remember at the same time I was looking for a job, I was also invested in “being found” by that special one who would gain my heart. I had to make the decision to go back to the singles ward, this time to the “older than 30 years old” one. I went there once, and found very spiritual women, when I asked myself: how come these good women are not married or “taken”? I decided I was going to like this ward, and if anything, I would make friends with these wonderful women.

At my second visit to that ward I was running away from a guy that without even knowing me was inviting me to his farm. When this guy went to find a pen to write the address, I ran to a Hispanic woman who I just met at that ward, she was talking to another guy. I started conversation with this new guy and, without him knowing at the time, he helped me to get away from the other person. I felt bad, but I did not know how to say “no” and I did not want to have to say it on his face. I took this person, who was helping me, outside the building; so hopefully the other guy would not follow me. This helper started to talk to me about things of the gospel, he even recited, by memory, the entire Book of Mormon chapters in Spanish. I found it fascinating that he did not try to take me on a date but talked to me with a sincere heart. It seemed to me that he was also trying to impress me, but not with worldly things, and impressed with him I was.

I think after I got impressed with his ability to talk about the gospel in the scriptures, I started to note his beautiful eyes and his childlike shy smile. I started to like him. We talked for a while on the grass and before we said goodbye, he asked if he could sit by me next Sunday. I had no problem with it. Next Sunday I got really excited and anticipated my meeting with him. He sat by me and was playful that Sunday. I think I invited him to a friend’s dinner to which I was invited to. He came, and after that night, he asked me on dates every other day, always going to a place where his family reunions were being held; on the 2nd date he asked me if he could hold my hand and on the 3rd date he kissed me. I could not believe it; I was feeling the way I yearned to feel for such a long time. Things quickly progressed and he proposed to me in less than 2 months. We started preparing everything for our wedding. His mom even came to help me choose my wedding dress and gave me some jewelry I was to use on our wedding day. We set up a time in January for our Temple sealing. During the month of November, he started having some anxiety issues. I felt so much compassion for him and his suffering that I wanted to return his ring to him. He never took it until the 3rd time I offered it to him. I did not want to see him suffer but his acceptance of his ring was a shock to me. We broke up at the end of November.

I was devastated. I wanted to get as far as I could away from him. He wanted to be friends. At the end of the year before new year’s day, I had an experience in which I perceived the great love God had for him, and if God loved him so much, who was I to harbor negative feelings against him. So, we remain distant friends, through emails, and sometimes he would ask me to meet in person. He started a relationship with a previous girlfriend. I became involved even more in the service of others and in the church. I went on a few dates but allowed no one to get close to me. Maybe deep inside me, I still had some hope that I would get back together with my ex-fiancé. But how could that be, he was dating someone else and I was in my world. We would still discuss gospel matters through email, when we would see each other I could feel he liked me a lot and that his feelings were still there. When he asked to meet with me, it was always because he had broken up with this girlfriend. Until once he kissed me again; and when he did not call me back and I tried to inquire about it, he told me that he was still together with the other girl. I felt used and betrayed. I decided from then on that I was going to pay attention to another boy that was trying to get close to me. That happened 1 year after our breakup.

In the remaining months with me letting go more and more, and we still being in contact and going back and forth from each other. I seriously was contemplating moving on. With this in mind, I called him and asked him to talk one last time after April conference. He came, we talked, I told him that I wanted to remain friends with him, but we were probably not seeing each other again until all our hurt feelings were healed. It seemed to go well. When we went back to his car for him to bring me back home, he told me that he had decided to date me again and that he would do it with the purpose of getting married. I froze, did not say a word the whole way. He asked me to go on a hike in a few days, I was still in shock, I said yes.

Long story short, we went on several dates since. He told me of his experiences in the temple and in general in his mind about me. I was not ready to kiss him as easily this time. He respected my wishes and we only hugged. I think it took 2 months before we started kissing again, I could have gone longer, but he needed the reassurance. Then in June, he proposed for the 2ndtime, again, at this time I froze and left him kneeling on the little rocks upon a mountain. I think I had a little panic attack. I ultimately accepted the ring again and we started planning our wedding again. We got married in August 2007. On that temple day, all was very stressful, his hand started trembling in the sealing room and I felt I could not breath on my dress at that moment that I almost stood up in the middle of the ceremony. We managed to get it over with and we got married.


I loved and love this man today. He helped me to be a mother of a mischievous and smart little boy.

I had the opportunity to truly be a mother when I lost my job and I stayed home. I loved cooking for him and telling stories, we watched movies (cartoons) together, and sometimes played sports with him; sports and active engagement activities were accomplished with his daddy. I had a dream when Jacob was 1.5 years old, when I woke up, I knew we needed to get pregnant again, I immediately had the urge to tell my husband. He told me to wait, he was not ready yet. With all my desire to be a mother again, I had to stop thinking about that, as I wanted to be on the same page as my spouse as a good Mormon should be. Little would I know that the next year I would have a strong allergic reaction to something (I blamed it to an antibiotic I took for the 2ndtime). That allergic reaction led me to a panic attack (thinking that I was having anaphylaxis or swollen respiratory tubes). I went to Urgent Care and they prescribed strong steroids that messed up with my menstrual cycles. I did not have my periods for several months and I started having hot flushes. I went to a doctor’s office to check my hormones, and I had hormonal elevations as a menopausal woman. This was a painful shock to me. I continued to take some vitamins and after going to the fertility doctor, we decided that there were many little children who did not have parents and we could become those parents, and as a bonus that little child and Jacob will be siblings. We started the process to adopt a little child through the church. A year passed by and I started having my periods again. I went to the doctor and my hormone levels were back to normal. I started to have hopes again but continued with the process of adoption.


My husband is a wonderful father to our son. He has been and is my best friend since we met. We have been through a lot as you see, but we decided to be a team from the beginning. We also decided to always tell the truth no matter how this could hurt the other. No hiding feelings or facts. Because of this, he could not hide from me that he had read the Sealed Portion of the Book of Mormon in 2013. He always had an inquisitive mind and I always wanted to have the truth. Such truth, I could not even imagine how far apart from religion it was. I could have never gotten rid of the chains of ignorance and deceiving doctrines if I had not listened to what my husband had to say about his discoveries, and because I actually decided to read it. I am eternally grateful for that. The only reason I could read the Sealed Portion, was because I treated it the same way I treated the Book of Mormon. I was to become like a little child and ask with all the sincerity of my heart if what I was reading was true or not. I was to put aside all I knew about religion and all that I had learned to find out the possibility of this book being true, the same way I did with the Book of Mormon.

It worked to open my eyes to a true gospel and to how I had let myself to be deceived. Life circumstances would also allow me the time to read, investigate and try to help with this work back in 2013.


Having Jacob in my life was and is a wonderful experience, except when I am too tired, then I am not such a good mother for Jacob. He always wanted to play and due to no other little kids around him, we, the parents had to do. He is an energetic little athletic kid. He loved jumping in the trampoline since he was 3 years old, learning to do all the tricks his dad would teach him and inventing some of his own. He learned at a young age that he could not make friends just by asking as when he was littler. He used to ask “do you want to be my friend? And the other little kids would always say yes, when he was 4 years old, he continued to do the same to try to start the play time, but he was faced with rejection. He learned from that. I tried to teach him other more subtle ways to start a friendship, but it has been hard for him. He wanted to have a sibling and it was so hard for us to explain what happened. I finally explained it when he turned 12. He was understanding and still loves me. 😊

He learned about the MWAW and the Humanity Party since he was 4 or 5. It made sense to him to have the basic necessities provided for to all in this world. He used to draw pictures about the Humanity Party being implemented and the people happy about it.

He has been a good little kid. We stopped him from going into gymnastics teams as teachers saw his potential, so he can learn to avoid feeling better than others. He accepted and understood the reason. He is kind with little kids, and sometimes that breaks my heart, as I feel he needed another sibling not only to play with but to care for and love to. Maybe he will tell you his own story someday. I hope he chooses the path we are in, but that would be entirely his choice.


Anyways… life has a way to stop your plans if that is in the best interest of your True Self. In March, in my 4th month of having my periods back, I realized that I had not recertified for my profession. I thought that when you take “the big Certification test” and you pass it, you are certified for life (within my ‘English as a second language’ understanding.) Little that I knew, I had to do that every 3 years and I was in my 5th year when I realized it. When I asked for the requirements for recertification, they told me that due to my NP program being from 2004 instead of 2005, I had to go back to school to recertify. I appealed that decision in vain. I had to stop working at the time when, a few months earlier, my husband was let go of his job as a diver as that business closed. On top of that, when I went back to school to ensure I was aware of all I needed to do to go through this process, they told me that I first needed to exchange my NP license for an RN license. In so doing, I ended up being accused of not recertifying on purpose and acting delinquently with my license. The UT Board of Nursing wanted me to sign a document admitting that I did so, in order for them to give me back my RN license. My father in law is a lawyer and told me not to sign anything. He ended up defending me against the Utah Board of Nursing personnel, who, because I asked an attorney as they recommended, in turn decided to revoke my license instead of deactivating it. I had to go to court, and I felt so badly when the lawyers were asking questions to make me say what was not true. I fell into depression. My periods stopped again, and this time forever, I entered into a premature menopause. The Church did not want to return our $1000 that we so desperately needed at that time.

We had some savings, but that got eaten fast, when my husband was trying to sell our old house as rent to own to help this guy build his credit and get the house he was renting from us. By around this same time in February and March, this person/renter who now held the title, stopped making payments towards the house to a third-party company with which we agreed on. He had the title, but our name was on the bank to pay this house loan. So, with our savings, we started to pay 2 houses at the same time (including the one we were living on). I had several credit card payments to make, so I would borrow from one credit card to pay the others and so forth for about a year. We entered more into debt. I was hoping to finish the extra semester of school and get back my license and retake the test and recertify which I did in about 6 months, the other 6 months I dedicated to hunt for a job, as the one I previously had gave me their back after 5.5 years of working there. The CEOs there were always afraid that I would drag them into my legal litigations. I never did.

By then, my father-in-law had achieved some of his goals and the Board of Nursing had to retract from revoking my license changing it to a suspension. When it was obvious to me that no one in Utah was going to let the prejudice go, and the job interviewers were judging me that I could have done something terrible to have my license revoked, I stopped using my credit cards and all payments as I could not keep up with them. I had planned to start paying them all off with my new job but given the circumstances I couldn’t. The great credit line I had was ruined. We know what the tedious process to get food stamps is all about, to work from home for pennies not knowing what would become of us. No matter how much I prayed, fasted, read my scriptures, served in my callings, and went to the temple, the circumstances did not change for us. I was still determined to keep my faith no matter how ugly things could go.

I think that all the things I have gone through in my journey to find peace, love and happiness were not in vain. They had to happen to make me the person I am today, ready to be here and accept this work in the way I did. I do not blame anyone for what I went through and accept the responsibility of my choices and reactions. I embrace my history and look forward to living life in a freer way, away from guilt and condemnation and full of acceptance. This is what this Real Truth has taught me! So, going back to the beginning of my journey finding this amazing work…


It was in this circumstances that in September of 2013 my husband told me that he had read the Sealed Portion. He was sweating when he told me about it, as he thought I was going to divorce him. I started the process of learning about this work becoming like a little child and inquiring about it just as I did with the Book of Mormon. It took me a while (1-2 weeks) to let my husband know how that book was affecting me in a positive way.

When my pride was subdued, I was able to tell him that I knew the book was telling the truth, at least the truth I needed at that time. He started to bombard me with what he had read in the other books. He is a book devourer, he read fast. I am thankful he did, as I was slowly getting there in knowledge, but my conviction was already there. My temple recommend was expiring at the end of September, I had to go to the temple that last day and see it all with different eyes.

I then wanted to share all the news with our Spanish speaking brothers and sisters, so I volunteered to help with translation. I had the time and the desire to do so. So, I was called to the task, I guess by my True Self. I just knew I had to do it. During September through December, my husband and I still held our callings in the church. In our teaching positions, it became harder and harder to teach what we were expected to teach. I started to incorporate and focus my lessons on some of the truths of the Real Gospel instead of on the manuals. It was in December 2013 symposium that my husband took me to meet Christopher. He warned me about the profane language he might use, but I had already listened to the MWAW TV shows, furthermore, the “swear words” don’t mean too much to me in English, so I was never bothered. Now, even if I would listen to them in Spanish, I know they are just words that convey an emotional state. We did not want to make a huge deal but needed to leave the church. So, we devised a plan. As my mother was visiting with us in those days, we told the ward we were going to the Spanish ward with my mom. We never did, I always took my mother to church though. And that is how we left the church. Once in a while, members from the English and Spanish wards would stop us at church or neighborhood activities to tell me: “Sister Monica, long time no see, I thought you were inactive”, to which I would respond: “Not at all, in fact, I am more active in the gospel than ever”, then they would not have anything else to say to me and would leave me alone.

I was initially very frightened on how I would be able to raise my son without the church. But then, I realized that there was nothing to be afraid of. It was even simpler than I thought. I just had to teach him to be happy, to be himself and find happiness in that. To treat others not only the way he wanted to be treated, but the way they wanted to be treated. I am amazed how all these simple concepts are so easy to understand by a mind that has not been conditioned by religion. My son is certainly grateful for not having to go to church to be forced to sing the primary songs that would hurt his throat; that is all he remembers from church.

We were still visiting our family members and even when we were upfront with our family members from the beginning, telling them that we were not in the church anymore, but we could continue to visit with them and accompany them in their church affairs when there was an important event for them such as baptisms or baby blessings. They always talked about their church in front of us and we patiently listened, but if we tried to talk about the importance of solving poverty through the plan of the Humanity Party, we were always shut down. Before they knew we were out of the church, we tried to talk about these concepts of solving poverty and this would resonate with the compassionate ones; but once they knew that we were obtaining the information from the same source that made us leave the church, they would not give this plan another chance.

As I could not find a job in Utah due to the judgmental mind of the people there, we thought we might try outside of the state to find a job in my profession. We were pretty broke, barely having enough for our needs and trying to keep up with all the bills. We have finally been freed with Real Truth. We decided to try more liberal states and after some searching found a job in California. I have to work full time and I wish I could work less; I have tried to request less hours of work, without success. Someone once asked me if I liked my work. I said yes, but what I meant is that I like to help people, in a way that they can learn to heal themselves. I meant that I don’t do something I hate doing like many others, but certainly, I wish it would take less of my time. In that way, I could do with my time what I really want to do, which is to dedicate it to this work in any capacity I could.

We have been engaged with this plan of the Humanity Party and the MWAW concepts for about 7 years. We have found many true friends in this work. We have found the True Messenger who has brought the message we were promised in the beginning by our True Selves. What else could we ask for. I know all I ever wanted to know about life and religion through the Marvelous Work and a Wonder and from the Humanity Party’s plan I’ve come to know that it is possible to heal the physical and emotional wounds of the poor and the afflicted in our world. This plan can eliminate poverty and inequality for ALL in a matter of weeks. It blows my mind how not everyone is behind this plan at once. I am passionate about this work and what it represents for all of us as a group of humans.

Thanks to this work, I have been able to truly look at all the humans like little children and accept and celebrate what makes them happy without judgment. Nothing, nothing could have persuaded me to leave the church but the Real Truth that I found in this work and that made more sense than anything else out there. We have met with our messenger on a few occasions and can assure from my experience that he is a very nice human being full of compassion for others around him. He has sacrificed so much to help our whole group of humans, even if the majority of us humans do not like or agree with the amazing information and plan he has presented to the world. He is truly the One like unto the Son of man, in religious terms. But he is as humble as can be, yet as a messenger he needs to use his two-edged sword language, in hopes that most of us wake up from the sleep we are in and try to think for ourselves. He is one of the True Messengers; if we listen to them, they will lead us in the way of life and salvation.

I love this work with all my might, soul and strength and I love and respect my True Messenger whom I have seen, but also those behind the scenes who orchestrated so many times a way to help us remember without violating our free will. To them, goes my deep respect and gratefulness for their patience with us and for helping in protecting our current messenger. I want to do everything in my power to set my light high as I receive it from the True Vine.

Monica Cook