Tears

This quote showed up on my Facebook feed today. It showed up as tears were streaming down my face. 

For so many reasons. 

There were tears of joy---because I felt so much love from my best friend tonight. The kind of love that won't stop burning in my chest. They went home three hours ago and I still feel it. I still feel their love for me. 

We had deep conversations about the church. We talked about the Bible and my issues with our church set up and how much I love going to the other Christian church. We talked about my fears, about the hurt I felt when her husband told me I'm just being rebellious. We talked about love and how we will always be there for each other. 

There were tears of confusion---because church. Church wasn't any better today. Maybe I'm not allowing myself to be open. Maybe I'm listening with a closed off heart. But it just felt so frustrating and lonely and hard. I saw my therapist there---the lady I love so very much that I no longer see because I WAS DOING SO WELL. And I wanted to just sit next to her and unload it all. I wanted to pour out all of the messes. I felt like I was keeping a secret from her as she asked how I was doing and I told her I was good---because for two and a half years, I told her everything. Everything. It always started with me telling her I was doing good and then she'd look at me with her eyebrows raised and I'd tell her all of the reasons that it was NOT good. 

And as I end my day, there are tears of heartache---because my other friend is losing her husband to cancer. He has been fighting and it doesn't seem like he's going to win. And she texted me to check on ME tonight as she sits in the hospital with him. We've been texting since then...about so many things. Because she is scared. She doesn't know what it'll be like when she loses him. She's worried she won't be able to handle it. She isn't sure she is brave enough to be a single mom and go to church alone and raise them alone. So I promised her I'd be there. I'd always be there. Every day, if she needs me, I'll be there. And she told me the same---that she'd be there through my faith struggles. That she'd remember to check in more often (even though I reminded her NOT to worry about me right now). 

It doesn't seem fair that her two young children are losing their dad. It isn't fair that she has to watch her husband lose a battle he has bravely fought for two years. It's sometimes too much for me to comprehend. It humbles me and puts my life into perspective. 

And I have to set my questions to the side and just be there. Be in the moment. For her and for me. 

For all of us who are hurting. 

Life is full of uncertainties. It is messy and scary. 

Oh my gosh, it is scary. 

But I was praying the other night and I distinctly felt God showing me the GOOD that has come from some of the most horrible moments in my life. People who have shown up and just been there. Lessons I've learned that have shaped me into a better person. And I feel like this is all going to turn out ok. I feel so much peace tonight. I feel so much peace AND an overwhelming amount of emotions---is that even possible? 

Of course it is. 

God told me it will all be ok. I don't yet know what that means in regards to what church I'll choose or what my life will look like in the next year. But I do know that it means I will be ok, that I will get through these times that have seemed so hard. I do know that as I live each day, the pain from the hard things has lessened and I have started to focus on me, on my kids, on the people who are IN my life. 

And it's beautiful. 

It's going to be ok. It's going to be more than ok. It will also be really hard. But that's ok. 

Because I don't feel so alone tonight. In fact, I feel the opposite of alone tonight. I feel loved and supported and ready to conquer tomorrow. 

Finding Me

I get it. 

I get how hard it is to understand my side of this. 

I get why you want to save me. I've been in your same shoes. I've felt that way about the very people I love. 

But I don't need saving. I really don't think I'm all that lost. In fact, I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. 

When I take my mind off of what people will think of me, I feel a happiness I haven't felt in a long time. 

I am happy. 

Tonight I am happy. 

I feel less burdened by so much of my past pain. I feel like a warrior. 

I told my closest friends and was met with love. 

And then I told my mom...and at first, it was rocky but she listened. 

I felt heard. It was beautiful. 

On Monday morning, my dad sent me an email that contained some advice but also a lot of compassion for the things I am feeling. 

They don't hate me. In fact, they hear me. It is more than I could've ever hoped for. 

I don't know if it will always last. I'm sure there are still bumps in the road. But I'm feeling closer to God. I'm feeling happier and more peaceful. I feel less pressure to be the person everyone wants me to be. 

Instead, I am finding out who I want to be. 

And while I'm here trying to find that out, I am so grateful to know that there are people who will always love me. There are people who show up and don't leave. There are people who love me for me. 

And tonight, that is all I need. 

I'm Afraid

Sometimes I'm afraid.

And as I try to pinpoint what I'm most afraid of, there doesn't seem to be just one underlying thing. In fact, when I try to pinpoint what I'm afraid of, I usually end up anxious when I realize just how big my fears seem.

Right now, I'm living in this limbo and I'm afraid to make a step in any one direction. Every single direction has downfalls.

In the past two years, my faith has wavered more than I thought possible. At times, it has been stronger and at other times, it is dwindling.

Minuscule.

Almost non-existent.

Shit happened this year---too much of it---and although at first it seemed like I was pulling through, I've been left with so many fears. More fears than ever before.

I've questioned how God could allow so much ugliness in our world---in my world. I've looked at where I am and where I want to be and I don't feel like my church is allowing the happiness and peace I am looking for.
I don't feel comfortable with the way things are set up---and the male dominance of my church gives me anxiety.
I don't need the Priesthood for women. I am not a feminist. But point blank, I don't agree with the sexual sins of a woman being confessed to a man alone in a room.

I experienced this in high school when my parents made me confess my sins to the bishop when they found out I had been making out with my boyfriend {This is not a joke...}. I remember how uncomfortable I was in that room alone with the bishop, speaking about teenage feelings and interaction. I hated it. And my children won't be doing that without their father or I in the room.

Ever.

 And after attending a non-denominational Christian church a few weeks ago and feeling so very emotional and peaceful, I started having really conflicting feelings. Because I'm a Mormon---and Mormons don't believe that other churches have the full truth. Mormons get upset when people leave the church, not because they hate them but out of love. And although that seems endearing to have people care so much about me that they'd push for me to keep going to church, I feel like I need this to be my decision without other voices in my head.

I'm worried that I'll lose all of my friends---or at least a lot of them---and after the year I've had where so many people believed ugliness about me in the midst of some circumstances that were out of my control, losing friends now would be devastating. I'm honestly still dealing with the after effects of what happened in March. I still feel like so many people hate me and judge me and blame me. And if they don't hate me, they sure aren't reaching out to make sure I'm ok---those kinds of friends have been few and far between.
So losing the people I DO have would be inexplicably heartbreaking.

I'm scared of what people will think of me if I leave. I'm scared of what Peter will think--because when he left the church 3 years ago, I freaked. I was scared for our relationship and how our children could be raised in that situation. I was so scared and if he found out I left the church now, he'd shove it back in my face and I'd feel stupid for fighting for the kids on Sundays and fighting for their baptisms into our church to be a part of our divorce decree.

I fought for something that I won---and now I might be giving it up.

I don't quite know what it is I'm searching for yet but I haven't found it within my church.

And I'm scared.

Because after questioning this deeply on my own for weeks, I told a friend...and then another friend...and then my best friend's husband who is my home teacher...

...and he told our bishop.

And I am meeting with our bishop on Sunday which feels ironic because if he asks, I am going to have to tell him that some of my questions involving the church are directly related to his calling.
My people-pleaser personality wants me to go in and stuff all of my feelings and doubts down and tell him everything is ok. In fact, as open as I am about my life, this subject has been extremely hard to open up about. I think I've spoken to 5 people about it.
But if I don't tell him the truth, I'd be a liar and I wouldn't be representing the kind of person I strive to be.

So I'm trying really hard to open up about my doubts little by little. I'm trying to trust myself and shut out the outside voices. I'm making small plans so that during this 'trial run' of leaving my church, my kids won't be affected.
I plan on going with them every other week and spending the week they're with their dad on my own, figuring out what I want in life and what is going to make me happy.

My belief that "one church fits all" seems to be changing. I don't hate my church and I wouldn't want to actively lead anyone else away from it.
But maybe it isn't for me. Maybe God knows I'll thrive more somewhere else.

And maybe in the end, I'll find myself coming back and realizing that my current church is, in fact, a healthy place for me.

I don't know how or when I'll tell my family or if I'll announce it to my larger groups of friends. I don't know how to feel safe in this situation that feels so vulnerable and scary.

But right now, I don't know what I believe. And I plan on figuring that out somewhere along the way.