Back to the Beginning

Sometimes you have to go back to the beginning to understand why you are where you are. Here is my beginning. 

I'm the youngest of a not so typical large Mormon family...number 8 although I'm number 7 to live more than a day. I was the "chaperone" for my older siblings dates...but they always made it fun. I have very little memory of my oldest brother living at home. Most of my childhood memories are of him coming home to visit while on leave from the Navy. The next oldest brother and my oldest living sister I have a few more memories but not by much. By the time I was out of kindergarten the three oldest had all married. So most of my childhood was full of memories of four kids in the house...probably why I always wanted four kids. 

I have memories of my dad being in the bishopric and misbehaving during sacrament meeting so mom would send me up to the stand to sit with him. I remember the hard wooden benches and napping on the pile of coats during the winter. And as I hit school age I remember Primary still taking place during the week and church being a little bit of back and forth on Sunday. I even remember when suddenly we had Primary on Sunday and no more church during the week because it meant I no longer had to wear a dress to school. 

The year I turned 8 my dad was my primary teacher. It was cool to have him as a teacher as he made class fun, but I don't really remember what he taught, just that it was fun. I remember being baptized on my grandparents' anniversary and feeling upset that I had to be confirmed the same day instead of at church the next day because of my dad's work schedule. Within the next 18 months, my parents became inactive. 

I had some basic understanding of the gospel but asked a lot of questions. My Primary teachers weren't certain how to answer them so I learned the standard answer of "pray and read your scriptures". To a 10 year old that's basically a non-answer. Questioning was just part of my nature. 

With my parents no longer regularly attending church neither did I. My friends would invite me and I'd go. But it was strange to not have at least one parent there. Sometimes I could talk my dad into going if his work schedule didn't interfere. Just to be straight, in no way do I blame my parents for the path I'm on. In fact, their inactivity led me to ask and search on my own. I was encouraged to visit other churches by my mother. My parents both stated that the best way to understand another religion is to attend services. 

Through my early teens, I continued to question and asked friends how they KNEW the validity of the church. They said they did because their parents taught them. It was true. In some ways, I felt short-changed. My parents weren't really teaching me that. Then again, my siblings had been raised in an active family and none of them had much to do with the church. 

When I reached ninth grade I took seminary. We were learning about the New Testament. I had a great teacher and he fielded many questions from me...including me asking how I could know the church is really the ONE TRUE CHURCH. Of course, the answer of pray and read your scriptures was the main answer. He also told me that everyone has to find their own answer and to never lean on someone else for the truth. I was envious of many of my friends who seemed to have unwavering faith. I had too many questions. The biggest one of which was "Does Jesus really exist and does he even give a damn about me?"  It took over 2 years to get the answer to this. 

I remember talking with my seminary teacher during 10th grade about the RLDS (Community of Christ) Church. He stated that it started when Emma apostatized from the LDS Church and to not give them a second thought...but I was intrigued. Since we were studying Church History and Doctrine and Covenants. I loved the historical aspect but I had so many questions which led to a lot of the teacher asking me to talk to him after school. 

By 11th grade, I had given up. My prayers were unanswered and I doubted the existence of Jesus. I felt that my religious friends were being duped. Yet I continued to pray. In December of that year, I had an experience that set me on my journey...I was a member of my school's madrigal choir. And we had the opportunity to sing at the LDS church Administration Building where the First Presidency and apostles have their offices. It is still one of my favorite memories. After our performance, we had the chance to meet the members of the First Presidency. As an alto" and a short one at that, I was at the tail end of the group. When my turn came I shook hands with Thomas S Monson and Ezra Taft Benson. I felt both were men who had dedicated their lives to serving God. Then I found myself standing in front of this sweet little man...Gordon B Hinckley. As I stretched my hand out to shake his, he quickly pulled me into an embrace and told me Jesus loves me. How could he possibly know about my question? My heart was full and I knew God had answered my question. 

I went back to seminary for the remainder of the school year and attended church more often, but I still had questions. My boyfriend fielded many questions and even had me talk with his dad. His dad gave me the best advice that I follow to this day. It isn't wrong to question, but it is the intent with which you question. Don't question to prove something wrong but to prove something right. I spent a great many years taking my questions to this man (as he became my father-in-law). 

I was a youth speaker in Sacrament meeting...but struggled to write a talk and say anything with real meaning or spirit. I just couldn't fully accept the validity of the church. But I kept trying to find the truths that did exist...just as I look for the truths that exist now. 

I'll stop here for now...as within 3 years of the experience at Christmas time I was a mother and a wife and that's a story for another day. 

The Final Straw

I guess most stories start at the beginning. Well I'm starting mine with the final straw. The tipping point that sent me over the edge and finalized my disillusionment with the LDS (Mormon) Church.

It happened the first weekend of April 2015, General Conference weekend. Like many faithful Mormons I was watching General Conference. I waited to see when Uchtdorf would speak as he had quickly become my favorite person to hear. His stories are great, but after years of learning German I just liked to hear his accent.

L. Tom Perry was speaking and I tend to tune him out as he seems to be rather old-fashioned in his way of thinking. At times he has a good tidbit of advice, but not this time. While I do believe in the importance of family, this talk took a turn that cut me to the core. He stated that "counterfeit and alternative lifestyles" are trying to replace the family organization which God Himself created. Ummm...WTF??? You see, I have a 20 year old who is transgender and an 18 year old who is homosexual. Does this mean their lifestyle choices are against God? That he doesn't love them unless they adhere to the teachings of the LDS Church? This one talk sent what was already a fragile hold on my belief in the church into a tailspin. How could I, a loving parent, tell my children that unless they conform to the LDS Church they are doomed to forever be separated from me?

You see, I've raised my children to be strong and independent. To speak up when they see others being treated poorly. To give of themselves and to be their authentic selves. I don't think they should HAVE TO conform to anyone's idea of religion. Religion is a personal choice. At least that's what I've always thought. I've taken my children to other churches so they have the experience and respect for what others believe.

I guess I just couldn't get past the point that God would expect them to deny who He made them to be in order to return to Him one day. Does He truly expect us to be less than ourselves to come back to him? It does not seem like a loving parent, but a dictatorial regime. If He is a God of Love, why so much hatred towards someone who is a little different? It felt so wrong, and still does.

So I did what any good Mormon does, I prayed and fasted...and fasted and prayed. I read my scriptures and studied the teaching of the prophets. And still my question was unanswered. So I asked God if he loves me for who I am. I prayed and fasted and felt the comfort and confirmation that yes, He does. Then I asked God if he loves my children for who they are. Again, I prayed and fasted and felt the comfort and confirmation that yes, He does. One last question was on my mind so I asked God if he expected us to deny who we are to return to Him. I prayed and fasted...and fasted and prayed. I meditated and pondered over the scriptures. No answer was coming. One day I was reading something a friend had posted on Facebook and it hit me like a ton of bricks. He expects us to be our authentic selves and nothing less.

But who is my authentic self? I spent years in an extremely unhappy marriage trying to conform to what the Church said I should be. I even had myself fooled a few times. I took out my endowments and was sealed in the temple to my now ex-husband. At no time was it truly something I wanted, but I did it because everyone expected it of me. And I was miserable. 3 kids in 4 years. I felt like a baby making factory. Don't get me wrong, I love my children and wouldn't give them up for a second. I served in my callings to the best of my ability. But I was miserable. Miserable enough to attempt suicide. Not a good choice at all, but it reset my priorities as a mom. No matter how hard I tried I just didn't seem to measure up to the standard of a "Good Mormon Wife". And being LDS and divorcing is no picnic either. I learned quickly who my friends really were...and they were few and far between. I also learned that a divorcing member does not want to hear about the blessings of temple marriage. Even now I really don't care to hear about it. For me a temple marriage turned into a living nightmare. All I had known as an adult was being a Mormon Housewife and suddenly I was a single, working Mother. FYI...unless you are widowed there isn't much support for you in the LDS church if you are a single, working mother. The pressure to remarry was insane.

I walked away from the church for a few years and would wander back to it for a time because it's what I knew and there were very little surprises. I slowly learned who I am and how to embrace that person. Wouldn't  you know, once I did I met my husband. He writes his own blog. He has had his own thoughts and feelings regarding the church and has let me find my own path.

Anyways, back to April 2015...It was at this moment I realized that I could no longer attend my ward. I was not being my authentic self by living a religion that taught my children to be the opposite of who God created them to be. It was not easy to walk away. It took about 3 months and I removed my garments. Only yesterday I bought my first pair of shorts in over 15 years. Today my husband and I went to the zoo and I wore a tank top and shorts out in public for the first time in 20 years. It felt scary and exhilarating.

I know I'm not the only one out there with this disillusionment. Everyone has their own faith journey. For some it leads to the LDS Church and for others it leads away from it. This is my journey...and it's time to share it.