I have missed writing! I have so many things to say and no idea how to say it all or where to begin. My thoughts the last couple of years have felt like a tornado of sorts. How does one process so many emotions and keep them all straight? The fear of not being able to sort out all of my feelings and be understood has kept me from writing. I have NOT felt, "stronger, braver, fearless". I have longed to be able to write and make sense of how I feel. For me writing is therapeutic and empowering. Through the power of the written word I am liberated from all of the feelings that weigh so heavily on me. In addition, I desire my words to have meaning and possess a beauty that can only exist when hearts are touched. I long to be seen, to be validated, to change lives. The only way to do that is to be vulnerable. Vulnerability for me is a means in which to take what my heart feels, all of the pain and joy this life has given me and do something more with it. Connect with others because of it, help others to also feel seen, feel validated and change their lives. Human connection, vulnerability, and love are the only true and real things I know. The constant threads that weave my life together. So here I am being vulnerable once again. Exposing my heart and soul for someone to read someday. Whether it's my children after I'm gone or whether I publish this on the internet for the world to read. Whomever reads this, I hope they can see my heart and I hope by seeing into my heart, that their hearts will be touched as if my words are enveloping them in love.
I'm back to the question of, where to begin? I guess the best place to begin is not necessarily at the beginning but what I've been thinking about most recently, where my thoughts currently linger which is the start of my faith crisis.
Back in I believe September 2018, my husband confided in me that he was having doubts about whether or not the LDS church is true. I recall feeling concerned but thinking they were only doubts and he would be okay. As time went on, however, I discovered that these doubts had grown to become more serious. They had apparently begun for him when he came across some historical essays the LDS church had published on their website. Many of the things he read didn't match the narrative he had been taught his whole life and they stirred up even more questions for him. His story is much more complex than that but ultimately his doubts grew to a point where he could no longer ignore them. Our marriage had already been rocky (due to baggage we each brought to the table from our previous marriages) so when I realized that these were no longer just questions I was overcome with despair. McClane wept as he relayed to me where his heart was at in regards to the church. He told me he was so afraid I would leave him and how painful his faith crisis was for him. Burned into my mind and etched in my heart is an image of him sitting on the side of our bed just sobbing into his hands, completely broken down, exclaiming over and over again, "I didn't go looking for this, I didn't want this and I wish I could go back to not knowing".
Having lost both of my parents I would relate the grief I saw in him at that moment, comparable to the grief I saw in my siblings at each of my parents deaths. I could see how much pain he was in and how broken he was sitting there sobbing "I wish I could go back, I wish I never read those essays". There was no way I could be angry with him in that moment. I believe when your heart experiences deep loss it then gains the ability to recognize that same loss in others. Looking at McClane in that moment all I could do was hold him and let him cry in my arms. I didn't understand what he was going through and frankly I was terrified of it but my heart could feel the heaviness of his loss. I wanted to take his pain away.
After that night we came to an agreement, McClane would still come to church with me and the kids to support us. I still completely believed in the LDS church. I didn't ask him to come, but because he didn't wanted to be a burden or disrupt our lives he wanted to go to support us. I respected him even more for his loyalty to us and his desire to support us. There was a small part of me at first, that thought maybe if I prayed faithfully for him, over time the Lord would heal his heart and he would find his way back. I mentally committed myself to respecting his boundaries and privately praying for him. That didn't last very long as it became evident to me that he truly no longer believed the LDS church to be true and was never coming back as a "true blue mormon". One Sunday in particular comes to mind as the tipping point in this realization.
We were sitting in Sunday school and the topic that was being discussed was the Plan of Salvation and the three degrees of glory. A woman made a comment about how we will be at peace and content with where we end up because we will be the most comfortable there even if our families aren't in the same degree of glory. McClane said under his breath "that's bull crap".
The Plan of Salvation for me was an area where I had a very solid testimony. After losing both of my parents I put all of my trust in the Plan of Salvation that I would see them again. So to hear McClane say that openly in church felt very unsupportive. I felt betrayed. Uncontrollable tears seared my cheeks. I wept quietly, furious and heartbroken that he would say that. I felt completely gutted and disrespected in that moment. Due to my emotional state we skipped Relief Society and Priesthood and went to talk in the car. Talking with McClane in the car is another poignant memory for me. I cried and told him how I had been nothing but supportive of him, never uttering a negative word about his new beliefs. I told him how alone I felt, how it would be easier if he didn't come to church to support me if he was going to make comments like that. I told him how offensive and disrespectful I thought it was to the other people sitting in Sunday school. I cried and said so many things to McClane that finally he blurted out, "I don't think Joseph Smith was a prophet!"
Bang! My ears started ringing and time stood still as if a gunshot had been fired. Every detail of that moment still comes so vividly back to my mind: the way I felt sitting in the passenger seat of our suburban, the way my makeup was smearing down my face, the way my nylons were bunching up on my waste, the way the sky seemed so much grayer than it had ever been. I remember feeling like the cold of winter was seeping in through the doors of our car and penetrating my skin. I fixated my gaze on a tree in front of our car, the tree was bare with no leaves and appeared so gloomy, so lonely like it would never know the company of the sun or see the color of leaves again. I remember thinking, "I am that tree". I felt numb. Everything I had prayed for, everything I had ever hoped or wished for, everything I thought I finally had was officially gone. It was hopeless, McClane was 100% out and never coming back.
"When did you know you didn't believe in Joseph Smith as a prophet?" I asked. "I thought we agreed we'd communicate about any new beliefs as they evolved so I wouldn't be left in the dark".
"I just recently came to that conclusion, I'm sorry", he replied. The air around us felt stale and tears streamed down both of our cheeks now. McClane apologized for not being more respectful and promised he would always respect my beliefs moving forward. To be honest his apology didn't mean much to me then because I felt completely and utterly hopeless.
"This is it", I thought, "stay and never know the fullness of joy that being married to a worthy priesthood holder brings or leave and break everyone's heart, mine included".
I felt pretty bleak for a while. There are other things that come to mind that solidified my knowledge that McClane was out of the church forever, like the time I saw him wearing underwear and not garments for the first time, but none of those moments felt quite as soul crushing as that moment in the car did after Sunday school. And now here I am, nearly a year later, feeling just as certain that I am that tree in the church parking lot. But the crazy thing is that spring came and that tree bloomed. Just as surely as that tree knows winter it also knows the sun. Winters have been long and hard for me and when I am in winter I feel like it will never end. I am here to say that I also know the glory of the sun and the vivid colors of summer. For the first time in my life I feel the innate goodness in myself, the sunshine, and I am learning to access the sun in the middle of winter. I no longer need life circumstances to reflect summer in order to feel the sun on my back. Nor do I need outside praise or approval to be worthy of feeling the sun kiss my cheeks.
There is so much more to my story, to our story. It's been a long, hard year and healing doesn't happen overnight. I have spent countless nights confused and afraid, grappling with my feelings about religion and what life looks like for me and our family moving forward. There have been months on end where I have operated on autopilot because I could not allow myself to feel one more negative emotion or it would destroy me. I have teetered too close for comfort on the thin line between sanity and a true psychotic breakdown. Mormonism is not something you ever just walk away from without any repercussions. It's a way of life, an entire belief system that shapes your world view about everything and everyone. It has been a truly soul searching, gut wrenching, mind boggling year for us. Y'all it has been winter up in here.
And the truth is I AM that tree. I have known winter but now; now I choose to bloom in the sun.
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