"I Am the Tree", The Beginning of My Faith Crisis

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.

Cold, Hard, Ugly Truth

So here it is, the cold, hard, ugly truth; the real reason I haven't felt like keeping up on my blog is I am afraid of being vulnerable. Somewhere along the way I distorted things in my head and began to feel like I could only write when I was feeling strong or when I had answers or insights that might help others. I had to be inspiring and I wasn't feeling inspired. The truth is I haven't felt strong in a very long time. I think I am more like my mom than I even realized. She was notorious for responding with, "I'm okay" when she really wasn't. In fact, if she said those words we knew she really wasn't. The truth is I'm not always okay and that is okay. The truth is I don't have all the answers or even a handful of them. The truth is my faith is being tested. The truth is I have good days and bad days. The truth is I still have breakdowns once in a while.

Today we sold my mom's house. I went to the title company and picked up a pen and signed my name in all the right places. Except, they weren't really the right places because I shouldn't have had to sign my name at all. Those documents shouldn't have even existed. A sign should never have been stuck in her yard. She should never have gotten sick. She should still be alive! I have had so many conflicting feelings as I process all of the changes that have taken place. I am still having trouble accepting her death. This is grief. These are the emotions people deal with after the funeral is over and everyone has gone home. Life goes on and we're expected to move on with it. I'm trying. Some days it's literally putting one foot in front of the other.

As quickly as negative thoughts come, they are replaced with thoughts of gratitude. "Thank you God for letting me care for her! Thank you God for letting her be my mother! Thank you God for her life and the impact it has had on mine." In the end the gratitude always wins out. I would go through all of the pain a thousand times over for the opportunity to serve her again! For me, love and gratitude will always conquer hate and pain. 

That being said, in the months following her death I have started 17 different blog posts attempting to express my feelings only to stop a few sentences in. Grief is complicated and I've been ashamed that I don't have it all together. "Where is my faith?", "Do I or do I not believe I'll see her again?", "How could God do this to our family?" "I have been doing all the right things, I am a good person and this is how God repays me?", "Haven't we suffered enough?", "Forget about me, how could God do this to my kids?" Even now knowing that these thoughts are a normal part of grief I still feel guilty for having thought them. I have screamed and cursed God's name more times than I care to admit as I wept in a blind rage that my mom, my best friend in the entire world was taken from me too soon. Then came the shame... I KNOW the truth! I have seen miracles firsthand in my life. I CANNOT deny God's existence nor His love for me and yet when my mom passed away I wondered why He didn't care about me. I wondered where He was when I needed Him. After all we had already lost this didn't feel like love. If He was real and could really see me than why did I continue to hurt so much? Why couldn't He throw me a bone and give me a break? I found myself feeling certain I could not write about these thoughts because they were too dark, too moody and who would they help? No, I would have to process the feelings of anger and abandonment silently and privately.

So why am I writing about those feelings now? I'm still not on the other side of this trial. I guess the answer is the same reason I started this blog in the very first place. I want to help someone, even if it's just one person. Hiding my true feelings and brushing them under the rug so that I appear like I'm doing okay doesn't help anybody. Life isn't a perfect package and grief isn't something we can orchestrate. I am making gains with my happiness. I feel myself slowly healing and progressing towards the happiness I know will be mine. Despite the sadness, I have never stopped laughing even when my heart feels heaviest. Most people around me probably had no idea how much I was hurting. I wasn't faking laughter or forcing happiness it just wasn't lasting joy. The moment I was alone with my thoughts I would feel depressed again. I know based on previous experience with losing my dad that one day I'll find that my heart feels light again and laughter fills my soul, not just the moment I'm in. I think I'm over the darkest part of it now, for the first time in a while I feel hope. I want to share that hope with others. I want those that are grieving and possibly thinking some of the same thoughts that I have felt so ashamed of to know that they are not alone! God hasn't abandoned us no matter how much it feels that way (more to come on this later). Today is an important step for me because I'm choosing to be open again, I'm choosing to be vulnerable. Today I choose to be honest and admit I still have fears and doubts. Ironically admitting those fears and doubts is precisely what makes me grow stronger and feel braver. Remembering that I have a Savior who atoned for my pain, my fear, and my shame is the first step to becoming fearless!

All That Matters

Many times I've sat down and attempted to write over the last couple of months and nothing seems to come out the way I want it to. My mom has fought long and hard to keep her cancer at bay and it has become evident the last couple of months that it's not a battle she is going to win. How do I accurately convey my life the last couple of months? How can I possibly describe the intensity of the love that I have felt? I can't. There are no words adequate enough to describe the ache I feel every time I see her wince with pain. There are no words that can describe the sorrow I feel when she looks at me with tears in her eyes because she doesn't know where she is. There are no words sufficient to explain how much it kills me to watch her suffer in so many ways and I can't take it away from her. It is the most heart wrenching thing I've ever experienced to watch her body slowly give up on her. To watch my vibrant, positive, active, strong mother become weak and helpless. So why do I do it? Why do I keep caring for her even though it's breaking my heart? Why did I decide to stay home and care for her full time when there is no paycheck? The answer is so simple; LOVE. It's all about love. Period. There are nights when I'm so emotionally and physically exhausted and the tears won't stop and I wish this wasn't real and there are nights when I'm scared to death of how much I'm going to miss her. Sometimes I think the pain is more than I can bear and then I remember that love is so much stronger than pain and fear. Love takes over and my personal concerns for myself don't seem to matter anymore. I look into her big blue eyes and I know there isn't anything I wouldn't do for her. She is worth it! Then I feel the sweet love of our Savior, Heavenly Father, and Heavenly Mother and I know I will never regret loving her this way. There is no pain that can equal the love I feel. I am so grateful for that sweet love that reinforces my faith in life after death. There are so many family members and dear friends waiting with joyous anticipation to embrace my faithful mother and envelop her with their love. What a sweet reunion she will have! After all she has done for me, surely the least I could do is help her through this last difficult chapter of her life and get her home.

In my last post I wrote to my mom that her kids would love her through this horrific plague that is cancer. I haven't been able to write since then because we have been too busy loving her through it. Mom, you're almost done. You've lived a good life. You've taught us well. You have loved us unconditionally. We love you more than any words could ever possibly convey. Our love for you is deeper than this mortal life. Our love for you is eternal!

                                                    Loving Her Through It:

 

                                                 

         

The whole purpose, the reason for it all is love. It all comes back to love. That's what matters. 

Love You Through It : a Mother's Day message about unconditional love.

With Mother's Day quickly approaching my thoughts have been turned towards my own mother. Often when I think about her, words feel inadequate to explain the mother she is. From the time I was little I remember nothing but love and perhaps that is the greatest lesson she ever taught me, to love unconditionally.

In 2004 my dad passed away very suddenly and as I was the youngest, that left just her and I at home. To say that was a hard year and a strain on our relationship would be an understatement. We each grieved differently as our relationships with him were very different. I was a teenager about to start my final year of high school and a whole new phase of life. She was a woman about to be an empty nester and now a widow, which meant she would be completely alone. Our fears were great and there were a few occasions when we took those fears out on each other leaving us both with hurt feelings. What came after the hurt feelings is an important life lesson I'll never forget. After giving me some time alone my mom would always knock on my door, sit on my bed and apologize. "I'm sorry, I'm doing the best I can. Parents aren't perfect but I love you so much. Can you please forgive me?"

If only she knew then how much those words would help me when I became a mother! She taught me that it's okay to not be a perfect parent. That it's okay to be real with your kids. That we respect those that are honest with us about their shortcomings. That there is nothing that can't be mended by sincere humility and unconditional love. That all we are ever expected to do, is our personal best.

Over the years my mom has been there for me as I have parented my own children and she has continued to comfort and gently nurture me through some of the most difficult moments of my life. I am her caregiver now but a year ago she was mine. It wasn't that long ago that my world was falling apart and she was helping me pick up the pieces. She worked tirelessly to keep my house clean and help care for my kids while I handled legal issues and worked through my grief. Many mornings she let me sleep in and mope in bed as I mourned the end of my marriage and the horrible abuse my daughter endured. She was patient with me as I slowly began to heal and get stronger. Quite simply, she loved me through it. Now it is my turn to allow her to grieve and mourn the loss of her health while I take care of business. I see it not as a burden but a privilege, an honor. Unconditional love is serving one another through the trials and heartbreaks in life. She taught me that.

Mom, if you get a chance to read this, you need to know how much your kids love you. It is okay to not be the strong one taking care of us anymore. You have taught us everything we need to know. We know to trust in God because of you and that turning to Him is ALWAYS the answer. We know how to love both purely and unconditionally because of your example. Spending time with you and caring for you is a privilege for us all. You have been and are a noble mother! Your faith and love have sustained us and will continue to do so because yours is a love that will last for eternity! Enjoy your time and try not to stress about the magnitude of this trial as you face your cancer. You have never let us fall or left us alone in our times of need and we will not let you either. We've got your back mama. Quite simply, we will love you through it!

This Mother's Day I challenge all of you to think about your own mother's and the ways they "loved you through it" and as a mother myself, I know that sometimes we have a tendency to look inward and reflect on our own mothering skills and sometimes we are tempted to compare ourselves to other mothers we know. To that I challenge you to 1. Remember the love you have for your child is the MOST important part of being a mother! Nothing else we will ever do will even touch the love they feel from us. The pinterest worthy birthday parties and perfectly packed sack lunches don't matter if they don't feel our love. Loving them deeply and making sure they feel that love IS ENOUGH! 2. Love yourself through it. There is no such thing as a perfect parent!!! Be patient and kind with yourself. Repeat after me as I repeat after my mom : "I'm doing the best I can." No more comparisons. I know my mom sounds pretty amazing from all of the things I've written about her but even she forgot my brother's 7th birthday. ;) He still loves her and is a functioning happy adult (mostly hehe).

Let's make this Mother's Day about love, unconditional love. Not comparisons, feelings of inadequacy, guilt, or even anger. This Mother's Day lets focus on the positive, the happy, and loving ourselves and each other through the trials and heartbreaks of life.

Growing Pains

What a difference a year of "growing pains" can make! 

(Still awkward but so much cuter! haha)

8th grade versus 9th grade

When I was a kid, every once in a while, I would get this horrible pain in my legs. My mom always told me it was "growing pains" and she would usually give me a little medicine and send me to bed. In my eighth grade year I was one of the shortest girls in my choir class and by my ninth grade year I was one of the tallest. In just one year I had grown from shortest row to tallest row. What a difference a year of growing pains can make! Lately I find myself thinking often about emotional and spiritual growing pains. I seem to have established this pattern with God that usually entails a horribly hard phase where things seem to get worse and then BAM, the insights come all at once and I feel almost a constant flow of personal revelation.

A while ago I was definitely struggling. In fact, I had a full blown temper tantrum. I don't know quite what triggered it, I think it must have been time for me to grow. I was really suffering with feelings of loneliness and inadequacy. I literally threw myself on my bed and started punching the mattress all whilst sobbing and repeatedly uttering, "God you don't care about me!" Even in that moment I was fully aware that wasn't true but I was angry. How many times had I pleaded for some sign, some clear answer that I would have an eternal companion? How many nights had I knelt in prayer and said, "Thou knowest the desires of my heart and that they are pure and true and I want a husband for all of the right reasons. I know how to sacrifice and give and I know how to make a marriage work. Please grant me this true and good desire"? I was angry because my heart is particularly centered on love. I love others so easily. It is one of my gifts that Heavenly Father has given me but in that moment it felt more like a curse. I ached to love and nurture a companion. I was mad that He created me this way and was allowing me to suffer because of it. "If it isn't in my plan to get married the least you could do is take these feelings away from me!" I was mad that despite my anger and the depth of my pain I still could not deny my testimony and I was mad that I felt so much love for Heavenly Father, even in my anger, that I would do this all over again if that's what it took. Yep, I was a raving, bitter lunatic that night, truly I was. 

Somehow I managed to humble myself enough to kneel down and utter a more respectful prayer before going to bed. Although I was still angry and confused I at least managed to tone down the rage and speak to Heavenly Father like an adult. Almost immediately after praying and making the choice to LISTEN I received an answer. A prompting came to me to read out of a book I had received at Christmas time. It is a book that is compiled of short stories and testimonies from women to strengthen and motivate other women. It is called In His Hands, because it is short stories I haven't read it consistently. I have just picked it up, reading a story here and there. That particular night the story I opened up to was called, "Unfulfilled Expectations" by Camille Fronk Olson. She references Job 5:18  "For he maketh sore, and bindeth up: he woundeth, and his hands make whole". She goes on to discuss how, often, the Lord makes us exercise patience and she uses the example of barrenness in the scriptures. Sarah, Rebekah, and Rachel are all examples of women who experience barrenness. Women who were required to wait faithfully for the blessing of a child. The process of patiently waiting teaches us to trust in God with even more conviction. I didn't like this idea. Who does? I mean who wants to be patient? We live in a day and age where we want everything instantly. A popular country singer, Miranda Lambert, even has a song about it called, "Automatic". I am no exception, I loathe waiting. I have only been officially single for 6 months and alone only just over a year and you'd think I'd been single my whole life by some of my attitudes!

I pushed aside my negative feelings and went on to read my normal nightly scriptures. It just so happens I have been studying Job on and off for the past year and was in that exact chapter and read that exact scripture from the previously mentioned book for the second time that night! "Okay I get it" were my thoughts. I am struggling, I have been put in the fire to be refined. Now I need to trust in the Lord and He WILL make me whole.

The next few days I continued to struggle and waffle back and forth with this concept of trusting Him. On one such day my mom was actually having a hard time as well. Her and I were having a discussion about her mood and she was expressing to me that she had some fear about dying. I felt so overwhelmed in that moment. "How can I comfort her and calm her fears?" I silently prayed and began to share my testimony with her. Finally I began to cry with pain as I said to her, "Ultimately it doesn't matter what I believe. What do you believe? I can't give you my testimony on life after death no matter how hard I try, you have to find and know it for yourself. It pains me that I can't give you the comfort I feel. " I continued to tell her about a picture a friend of mine had shared on facebook a while back. The picture depicted a little girl holding tightly to her teddy bear with God kneeling in front of her asking her to give him her teddy bear. What the little girl couldn't see is that He had a much larger, better teddy bear behind His back. The captions says,"Just trust me". I told my mom I felt like the smaller teddy bear for her is her mortal life. She is clinging desperately to it and doesn't want to give it up but what she can't see is that there is a larger teddy bear for her that is eternal life. Then I asked her if she trusted Heavenly Father. I then challenged her to change her prayers from, "please let me live" to "help me to accept Thy will".

Later that night I was struggling again with loneliness and as I often do when I feel that way I drove up to the Draper temple to ponder and pray. Something about seeing the temple illuminated against a dark sky gives me so much hope. As I sat there in the parking lot the familiar question came to my mind, "Am I going to be alone forever?........... Or for a long time?" I began to cry and then like a bolt of lightening I realized what a hypocrite I was. I had asked my mom if she trusted God and I had challenged her to ask for acceptance of His will instead of her own desires and here I was NOT trusting God and absolutely asking for my own desires. Humbled I began to pray right then and there, "please help me to accept Thy will, help me to trust Thy plan for me". Within minutes the despair I felt melted away and comfort took its place. As I drove home a flood of truths came to me all at once.

 First, I realized that no matter what my life plan entailed I would always be happy as long as I continued to turn to the Savior. Despite my life circumstances and the occasional tantrum of loneliness I am pretty happy now. I feel pretty content most of the time. Why wouldn't I be happy even if I was single for the rest of my life? A plan unfolded to me of what single life could look like for me and I could picture myself successful and happy, full of the light of Christ and raising my kids in the gospel. Didn't I have great friends and family? Didn't I have a plan for a career I felt passionate about? Doesn't church bring me joy? Why wouldn't I be happy? If that's what Heavenly Father wanted for me, I could do it and I could do it well! Sure I would struggle from time to time just as I was now but I overall I would be happy!

The next truth that came to me was less of a general thought and more of a direct message from God. "I have spent the past year comforting you, healing you, teaching you eternal concepts, and molding you into the person I have always intended you to be. You weren't ready for a relationship and won't be until I know that you are committed to this person I created you to be. I need to know that you won't change for anyone. You don't need to do anything different to impress anyone and you certainly don't need to stifle yourself the way you have in the past for a relationship. Don't change or give any of this up just because you're lonely. I need you to be this person I created you to be!"

Another truth that came to me is how easy it is to look at someone else's trials and question why they don't have more faith. Why can't they get it? How easy it is to make these subtle judgments of others. I learned humility and even more compassion with our thoughts towards others is absolutely essential when serving them. When the trial is our own it is easy to see why it's so difficult. I apologized to my mom that night. Even though I hadn't been mean or harsh with her, I have no real comprehension for what she's experiencing and perhaps it was appropriate to share my testimony and convictions with her but I also needed to realize sometimes all that is needed is love. She has a testimony, and a strong one at that just as I do, but that doesn't mean we won't all question it from time to time with life's challenges. What's important is that we are slow to judge others who are struggling and quick to extend Christlike love and compassion.

Other even more personal and sacred truths were taught to me that night and continued coming over the course of the following week. I even received a remarkable and very detailed priesthood blessing from my home teacher! What happened to my heart that week was amazing. I had experienced spiritual and emotional growing pains and my heart has now been humbled and opened even more to the blessings of the spirit and Heavenly Father's love. I went from thinking only of myself and my wants to what does He want for me. I have centered myself and my desires with His will for me once again. How easy it is to forget His will for us and to think only of our own desires. I have again put my faith in Him and His plan for me and I DO trust Him!

It is my hope that if you are reading this and you too are struggling, that reading this will give you strength. You are not alone in your questions of doubt. You are not the only one who has wondered where God is and felt hopeless. You are not the only one who has prayed unceasingly for the righteous desires of your heart only to feel those prayers are unanswered at times. Please take heart and know that you are not alone now or ever. I promise if you will challenge yourself to accept God's will and put your trust in Him that you will feel the same comfort I did. I don't know when or how it will come to you but you will feel it. Sometimes the answers we receive aren't the ones we want to hear. As we sufficiently humble ourselves those answers do bring peace as we realize He has the master plan for our life and He will not let us end up unhappy when we seek to do His will. Like the growing pains that hurt me as a child that ultimately made my body stronger and better and made my body into the adult body it is supposed to be, spiritual growing pains can have that same effect. We will suffer and hurt for a period of time as we struggle to gain a deeper testimony of a particular virtue or concept but after the pain subsides our spirits are stronger and better and we are that much closer to the spiritual beings God created us to be.

Which Part is Mine?

Healing from a tragedy takes time and often during the healing process we experience some sort of a trigger or a backslide. It had been over a year since that horrible day CPS and a detective showed up at my door when my little family experienced a major backslide emotionally.

It was the end of a long day with the kids and I was feeling strung out, overworked, and frazzled. It had been a tough week with the kids and I had been facing parenting difficulties with them that I didn't know how to tackle alone as a single parent.  It seemed that thing after thing was piling up and my load felt heavy. I was struggling to balance the needs my mom had with the needs of my four kids and I felt like I had let everyone down. I felt like a failure. Nevertheless, the dishes needed to be done one more time. The youngest was still in his high chair finishing up and the other kids were watching a cartoon in the other room while I diligently forced myself to finish the dishes. What happened next has happened many times before, in many homes and many families, and will continue to happen, I'm certain; the baby threw his bowl on the floor. I don't even remember what we ate that night what I do remember is that whatever it was splattered everywhere making a giant mess and creating one more thing I needed to do. I snapped, blind rage came over me and I threw the rag and dish back into the sink and immediately burst into tears. Then I proceeded to exclaim in between sobs, "Why? Just Why? I can't do it anymore! I quit! Nobody helps me! I'm all alone and it's too much! I'm done!"

I had made quite the scene and attracted the attention of the older three kids. They were staring at me with wide, tear filled eyes. My daughter walked over and put her little arms around my waist and then burst into tears of her own. "I miss daddy! I think I might have said something about him and now he's in trouble and can't be with us." What was happening?!? This was supposed to be my turn to tantrum and I thought she had worked through most of these feelings in counseling. I had triggered these feelings to come forward for her again. Guilt washed over me and I felt so discouraged that we were back to this place again. I needed to fix this, I led her to her room so we could talk without upsetting the little boys. I put my arms around her and prayed silently for strength to comfort her, to say the right things. I didn't feel worthy to be the one caring for her. I knew she deserved comfort and help and unfortunately I was all she had in that moment. I humbled myself and asked for forgiveness for losing my cool and prayed that somehow I would know what to do.

"Just love her, let her cry, show her your pain and vulnerability".

So we cried. I held her and we just sobbed. Then the words started to flow from me, "I know baby, I know you miss daddy. It's not fair. I'm so sorry you have to feel this way. I'm so sorry! I wanted childhood to be easier for you. Simple. It's not fair. This is not your fault. You are a brave little girl."

At some point my oldest son came in and started rubbing both of our backs. My SIX YEAR OLD was giving us comfort! My heart broke that he felt so much responsibility to do so at such a young age but it also surged with pride that he was so compassionate. I pulled the two of them in for a group hug and asked them if they thought it would be a good idea to say a prayer. They both nodded their heads so we knelt in prayer. Tears streamed down all of our cheeks as we prayed for comfort and we prayed for Nic, that he might know how much they still loved him and that he might truly repent so that he could see them again someday. In my heart I prayed that he might really see how special they are and how much he hurt them so that he can make it right someday and they might find peace regardless of his actions. (Again, I will NEVER put my children in a compromising situation. I won't force them to have a relationship with him ever. I believe they will each have their own journey in finding peace with him. I simply am hoping for him to work on fixing himself enough to try and do all that he can to help them heal and give them the kind of relationship they think they want with him in the future.)

That moment of prayer with my two oldest kids, although painful, bonded us even deeper. I felt the spirit so strongly testifying to me that I was doing enough. I was teaching them that sometimes we make mistakes and we don't always know the answer. I was teaching them to turn to the one person who did have the answers, their Heavenly Father. I was teaching them that it is okay to be sad sometimes. I was teaching them how to give comfort to others. I was doing better than I thought. So much love filled that little room where the three of us knelt in prayer.

That night when saying my personal prayers my heart was full of gratitude for His love and divine help raising His children. I might be a full time single mom but I am not raising my kids alone! Heavenly Father would always be there to fill in the gaps I am missing. What could have been a major setback for us turned into something that made us more unified and stronger as a family. Our backslide turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

As I've reflected back on that experience a song from Michael McLean comes to mind.



"Which Part is Mine?"

She was only a dairy man's daughter,
she was only a child of thirteen;
but the stars on the radio brightened her nights with a dream.
So she called up her best girlfriend Jenny
'cause she thought they would make quite a pair,
She said, "Let's you and me, try to sing harmony
at the amateur night at the fair."

But she only had the range of an alto,
so the part she knew best went to her friend.
And when Jenny's soprano drowned out the piano
they'd have to start over again.
And the dairyman's daughter would then say,

"Which part is mine?
and Jen, which part is yours?
Could you tell me one more time;
I'm never quite sure.

And I won't cross the line
like I have before.
So please help me learn which part is mine,
and which part is yours."

She grew up and got married to Bobby
kept him working on his MBA
they had two little redheaded children,
and one on the way.

Everybody said she could work wonders,
and she wondered what everyone meant.
She played so many roles, it was taking its toll
and she feared that her time was misspent.

So she opened her heart to her husband.
They discussed everything on her list.
from the kids, to the job,
to her feelings for her Bob.
But what it really boiled down to was this: She said:

"Which part is mine?
and Bob, which part is yours?
Let's review it one more time;
I guess I"m not sure.

And I won't cross the line
like I have before
if we just define which part is mine,
and which part is yours."

Every sleepless night knows many mothers
who are wond'ring if they've done alright.
And the dairyman's daughter knew
more than a few of those nights.

Had she given her son too much freedom?
Had she smothered her two teenage girls?
Did she spoil them too much or not trust them enough
to prepare them for life in this world?

So she opened her heart to the heavens
and she spoke of her children by name.
And the prayer that she prayed
that her kids would be saved had a very familiar refrain.

Which part is mine?
And God, which part is yours?
Could you tell me one more time,
I'm never quite sure.

And I won't cross the line
like I have before.
But it gets so confusing some times.
Should I do more, or trust the divine?
Please, just help me define which part's mine,
and which part is yours.

Did you hear me?
I can feel you near me.
It is the answer
that I've been longing for;

just to know you hear me,
and to feel you near me.
It's all the answer
that I've been longing for.

Did you hear me?
I can feel you near me.
It is the answer
that I've been longing for;

just to know you hear me,
and to feel you near me.
after I've done my best,
I know you'll do the rest.
It is the answer that I've been longing for!


I had forgotten to play just my part. I had been trying to do it all because I thought I was the only one there was to do it all. I had forgotten about Heavenly Father's part! As a single parent I blurred the lines and it was easy for me to take ownership of more responsibility than I really needed to. I didn't have to be a perfect parent to make up for the parent they were missing. I just needed to do my best to love them the way only I can. My favorite part of that whole song is the line that goes, "after I've done my best, I know you'll do the rest." So much comfort flooded my heart when I realized I just have to do my best and that is enough. When I've done my part Heavenly Father will do the rest! I have spent many nights praying and wondering if I was enough to raise these four kids. Praying a good man would come along and help me, thinking if he didn't I wouldn't be able to successfully raise these kids alone. Now I know being a single parent does NOT mean I am raising them alone! I have faith that if I never remarry, or even if I do for that matter, that after I've done my best, He will do the rest!

Raising kids will undoubtedly be harder than I can even imagine. You never know the temptations and trials that they will face. They have already experienced very challenging things at such a young age. I'm certain it will be the hardest thing I ever do if I do it well. I don't know what their futures look like but I'm choosing to have faith that even when it doesn't seem like it, my faith and love combined with Heavenly Father's will work in their favor even when I can't see it. 

Walls

 

    Humor me and allow me to turn into a therapist for this post. This topic has been on my mind lately.
    Back in July I wrote about how excited I was to fall in love again. It is now nearly December and in just a brief window of single life I had started to become jaded. I started an online dating profile a while back, because honestly as a single mom of little kids how else am I going to gain any dating experience let alone find someone? (Side note: if you're going to lecture me about the dangers of online dating save your breath. I have a protective older brother that has already given me a LENGTHY and DETAILED education of what to look out for and he is prepared to do multiple background checks. Literally.) Anyway, it didn't take very long for reality to hit me square in the face. People are hurt and broken and walls are up. Different people put their walls up differently. Some people put up their walls by wanting only "hookups" with the mentality of, "if I don't really know you to care about you then I won't get hurt, right?" Others put up their walls by only talking about vague and non-personal things. They won't make any small chat about their lives. Some do really well and appear to be pretty open and then they freeze and retract again in fear. And then there are those that will only make small chat never going any deeper. When the walls are up even basic conversation is difficult. Everyone aches to be loved and find that special someone but few are truly open to the possibility of love. How does anyone expect to find love without even having a real conversation? I'm not even talking the complicated, deep stuff but simply a real conversation about their life, likes, and interests. Very few people are willing to carry on a dialogue. It's fairly simple; you ask a question, they answer, then they ask you a question, and so on and so forth. Every one is so afraid of getting hurt again that they even lose the ability to communicate effectively.
      Luckily for me, I'm not in a big hurry and I definitely don't feel any pressure to find someone right away.  I'm actually enjoying my time getting more comfortable and confident with who I am and I'm tapping even deeper into my unique identity as a daughter of God. I'm trying to get more comfortable with talking to men again and if a connection happens, it happens. Hurry or not, I find it so disheartening and depressing that so many people are afraid to be vulnerable. Their fear of vulnerability leaves things feeling a little one sided and then in turn I feel like I have to pull back a little. I don't want to be open if they're not going to be, otherwise I'm the one that gets hurt because I have more to lose. So then nobody is open, it's a vicious cycle. Everyone turns inward. Let me be clear, I'm not saying that we have to tell everyone everything, in fact we shouldn't! We should be selective with who we tell and what we tell (says the woman whose life is an open book because she blogs about it *cough cough* hypocrite*). What I'm saying is that if there is some mutual interest there and you feel good about the person don't hold back because of fear. I found myself doing that very thing. Even my mentality changed, instead of being more optimistic and kind I found myself feeling bitter and resentful. I hated feeling that way! I had an experience that woke me up to what I was doing and I realized that's not who I want to be. I don't care how many times my ego gets bruised, or I am left feeling disappointed, I refuse to be this closed off bitter person. I refuse to withdraw from relationships before I even give them a fair shot. I refuse to live my life in fear in any aspect, including my love life. Am I afraid? ABSOLUTELY!!! I have been burned and I have spent many nights crying myself to sleep. I am choosing to face my fears. Nothing worthwhile comes without a little risk and a little pain.
      It's okay to be afraid. It's a normal response after getting hurt. If you trip and fall on the stairs you're going to be a little more cautious and afraid next time you use the stairs (ask me I know). Fear is our body's way of protecting itself. What's not okay is to dwell in that fear. It would be ridiculous for me to never take a flight of stairs again because I stumbled once or twice. Fear can be a good thing but it can also hinder us if we're not careful. It's especially detrimental to us when we choose fear over faith. We must listen to promptings Heavenly Father gives us no matter how afraid we are or we might lose out on a wonderful blessing. It will be hard to choose faith, I guarantee it! Be patient with yourself and keep praying for help to overcome your fear. It might take a while to get there but allow the atonement to do its job and eventually you will get there.
      When we have been severely hurt in relationships, it can make it really scary for us to be vulnerable again. We may even feel emotionally paralyzed, completely incapable of being vulnerable. What I've realized is that the atonement is critical for me, even in my love life. I can get over my fears, I can heal, I can trust again because of the atonement. Although beneficial, no amount of therapy or self help books will do for me what the atonement of our Savior can. There is no pain in this life that the atonement doesn't cover!
      My life is crazy right now with everything going on with my mom and all of the things I have to do for my kiddos as a single parent. I'm okay with being single, in fact I actually kind or prefer it right now because my practical and limited mortal mind can't comprehend how a relationship would work at the moment. I'm also okay if Heavenly Father places someone in my life and tells me to pursue it. Again I am in no rush to get into a relationship but I will not push away something Heavenly Father wants for me because I don't think the timing is right or because I don't want to get hurt. I'm doing my best to live my life in general with the guidance of the spirit and trust in His plan for me. I try to listen to the promptings I get even if I think Heavenly Father has a screw loose once in a while. Sometimes He prompts me to do things and I think He must be crazy, there's no way I can do what He's asking of me. Doesn't He get that I'm done getting hurt? He does know. He knows my heart. He knows how broken I feel. He knows how much I doubt. He knows I ache. He knows I don't want to get hurt or hurt anyone else. He knows what I need and what my kids need better than I do. I believe in His love and plan for me so strongly that I force myself to swallow my fear and be vulnerable when it feels right. I'm not perfect at everything I've written about but I keep striving to be open to the His plan for me. When something happens and my tender feelings get hurt I turn it over to Him in prayer and "move forward with faith".