Why I Stay

When I was a teenager, I thought life was hard. I was dealing with things beyond that of my friends at the time and I thought I truly understood what it was like to have trials and tribulations. I kept waiting for life to get easier and the trials to lessen- but I have come to understand that as an adult that just isn't true. The trials and situations change and ebb and flow- some things that once were hard are fine and some things that you never thought would affect you suddenly break your heart. I've come to accept this fact because it is shaping me into the person I am becoming.
I don't claim to, nor have ever claimed to have the market cornered on truth. I consider myself to be an open and accepting person. Years ago I came to the realization that while other's actions, feelings, beliefs may have an emotional affect on me- when it comes right down to it- I am in charge of my own salvation. So what will my life be?

As a child I grew up in a Mormon family- however we were not atypical. We rarely had family home evening, scripture study or family prayer. My Mom tried to instill these things in us, but sometimes it was all we could do to just survive. I went to church every Sunday, occassionally attended Young Women Activities (I was always busy with my theatre/ music school activities) and nurtured an infantile testimony of the gospel. But, I must admit, I always felt like God was with me. I felt His quiet guidance and gentle hand in my life. After high school, I went through a dark depression and I started questioning so many things. I was angry, I was confused, I was sad. During this time I became friends with someone who had left the church. His path and choices fascinated me and I began to wonder if he was right. He had recently left and it was still hard on his Mom. He and I decided to go on a trip to New York City together and I promised his Mom we would attend church on Sunday in Manhattan. During the trip, he began to show his true colors and I found myself at odds with him. He attacked me, made fun of me and made me feel terrible. So, on Sunday morning more out of spite- I made him go to church with me. We finally found the church (now where the Manhattan Temple is) and went inside. The moment I stepped inside, I was overcome with a feeling a peace, warmth, love and home. He had to go to the restroom and I sat on the all too familiar couches that seem to be only in LDS meetinghouses. Directly across from me was this picture-

 

I sat there contemplating my life, my choices, my heart, my testimony and a flood of quiet reassurances flooded over me and I decided then and there that I needed the church in my life.

Shortly after that trip I decided to go on a mission. On my mission I finally learned the gospel on a deeper level than I had in Seminary (which I skipped more time than I should have), Sunday School and Young Womens. Prior to my mission I had only read the Book of Mormon once and I didn't really understand some of the basic tenents of the gospel. My mission was a difficult but precious experience. And, for me, the greatest gift was finally understanding the gospel in which I believed. I know it may sound silly that I believed something I didn't really understand- but I've always been one of those follow your heart type of gals. And even if I didn't understand the reason why- in my heart I felt the spirit and that was enough for me.

 

After my mission, I attended BYU-Idaho and was ready to fulfill my Mormon duties to become a wife and mother in Zion. Although I did everything I could think of to make this happen for myself- it didn't. In the culture of the Mormon church, (at least when I was a teenager) we were taught that eternal marriage was the most important thing in the world. I was taught to look for, pray for and seek an eternal marriage. (Although I think part of the obesssion with marriage is a big part of just being a girl.) And when it didn't happen for me, I felt broken. After BYU-I, I attended singles wards until 31 and then 'graduated'. That was hard. I felt like the church was no longer a place for me. I felt like a failure in Mormonism 101. I felt like sometimes as a single person in the church others looked down on me, that my opinion, worth and value was less as a single person. I also realized a lot of that was my self perception. But, I kept going, I transisitoned to a family ward and occasionally attended the mid singles ward.

 

And life happened. I grew up. My testimony was shaken with a series of trials and new information. And I, again stood at a crossroads- do I continue in my faith or do I leave? As a kid, it's really easy to believe in things you can't see- as an adult you need concrete facts and information. And yet, things of a spiritual nature are just hard to understand and define because so much of it is your heart and undefinable. But, I digress.

 

Over the past few years a lot has changed in my little corner of the world. People who were once everything to me are no longer a part of my life. Members of my family have left the church and have been very vocal in their choices. I have read some things about the church that felt foreign and strange to me. Things are happening in the world that have caused even more people to draw a line in the sand. (disclaimer- I'm not going to go into explicit detail regarding my opinions on some things because I believe you should be careful about what you put on the internet. But, if you are interested in my thoughts, feel free to message me.)

 

Also during this time, my church attendance was a bit sporadic. And honestly, sometimes when I did attend I just sat like a grump judging all the 'happy families' around me. I wallowed in self pity and 'wo is me' kind of mentality. I stopped praying, I stopped going to the temple- and at the same time, reading things that made me question, listening to reasons why family members have left the church. And I allowed myself to ponder this thought, "Maybe the church really isn't true?..." This thought sat with me for quite awhile. I continued on in my day to day, but I let it sit with me and waited to understand what I needed to know. I read about topics both from inside and outside the church. And I started to make prayer more a part of my life (it's funny how easy you fall out of the habit of something and how hard it is to get back in the habit).

 

I remember the first time I prayed after not praying for quite some time. (by the way, the reason I stopped praying wasn't because of laziness, it was because everytime I prayed I got too emotional and I just couldn't deal with that on a regular basis.) I knelt at the side of my bed and din't say anything particularly earth shattering- but I felt an overwhelming feeling of love. And I sat with that feeling for a moment. I had read an article or blog post or something about someone who justified the feelings of the spirit to be something we manufactured within ourselves that we 'make' ourselves feel the spirit that we manipulate our emotions to achieve the desired outcome. I teach theatre, I teach emotions and I am very aware of the physical-mind-emotional connection. And as I sat there, I evaluated my breath, my heart and my body and I came to the strong conclusion that what I was feeling was not coming from me. It was coming from an unseen force that surrounded me. And I sat there realizing once again that God is real and loves me more than I can possibly even comprehend.

 

After that, life still was hard. I still felt sometimes that I didn't belong in such a family oriented church. But then I pulled my head out of the sand and looked around and realized a lot of people for various reasons feel like they don't belong- regardless of the marital status. And I realized I have a place, just like everyone has a place. And sometimes we carve our own place. Often in life we wait for others to come along and tell us where we belong or even that we belong. But, the truth is we create our sense of belonging by getting outside of ourselves.

 

In my family, there still continued to be a lot of conversation about the church and differeing beliefs. I'll be honest- I am super fatigued with the topic. I have felt at times that I am standing alone - and then the lyrics from one of the songs from the musical presentation, "From Cumorah's Hill" comes to mind- I never stand alone, when I stand with God. One night, after a particularly taxing conversation, I went home feeling drained. I don't remember if I prayed or not. But I was standing on a tipping point. My family had said a lot of compelling things that made a lot of sense. It wasn't an emotionally fueled conversation and yet I felt completley drained and empty. The next day was Sunday. But, I didn't feel like going to church. I showered and starting watching TV while my roommate at the time left for church. And in my heart I kept asking the question, "Is it really true, or not..." And as I sat there I felt the prompting- just go. At first I ignored it, but then it came again- just go. So, I threw on a skirt, probably looking quite dishevled and walked over to the meetinghouse. Sacrament meeting was last and I was already late for that. I walked in as the congregation was singing the sacrement hymn, I sat down- opened my hymnbook- started singing and then I was completley overcome. I couldn't stop crying (it was actually pretty embarassing- luckily it wasn't a loud cry- but it did inhibit me from singing and if you've ever been near me when I'm singing, you definitley notice when I stop.) And I knew there was no way I was causing this reaction that seemingly came from no where. You see, once again, like I felt so many years ago at the meetinghouse in New York, I was home. And that is exactly what I needed to feel and remember. That the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is my home.

 

I will also freely admit, I don't have all the answers. I don't 100% agree with everything the church says. I have strong opinions and strive to activley seek all truth outside and inside the church. But I cannot and will not deny what I feel to be true. And although sometimes the world feels like it's crumbling down around me I will still stand.

 

I've also learned that your life becomes what your habits are. That in order for me to learn and grow, I must keep attending church, that I must keep reading my scriptures, that I must strive to have the spirit in my life. Honeslty, Church culture drives me batty. I don't understand so many things, but at the end of the day- I stay because I am compelled to stay and deep down in the very essence of who I am- I know it to be truth. I know where I belong. It's my home. It's not an easy home- it would be so much easier just to stop believing, it would free up some time in my hectic life, I could be free to do 'adult things'. But, I can't because that's not who I am.