Alone in Our Doubts

Every now and then I’m perusing on Facebook and I see posts from old friends. To be expected. But sometimes while looking at their pictures I realize something. They are no longer members of the Church I belong to, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The whole reason I knew them and was then privy to the opportunity to befriend them, gone. And yeah the initial reaction is “that’s sad” but let me tell you the reason why it makes me sad. Because leaving the church does not make me think of them as any “less” as a person. The reason I think it makes me sad is because it makes me wonder if there was something in the back of their mind when I knew them, that they didn’t feel like they could say. Was there something they felt trapped by? Was there some feeling or doubt or frustration they felt they were alone in? Was there some vulnerable conversation that we could have had where we could have realized that neither of us was alone in feeling that way? Given comfort to each other? Because I know I have felt alone sometimes. And that feeling of being alone, for me, is often the largest driving force for why I might consider leaving the Church. Sometimes I feel like by leaving I would be joining a group of people more than I would be leaving a group of people because I could feel less alone in how I felt. Because people who leave the church, in my experience, are a lot more open about their doubts and their frustrations than people who are still in the Church. And that's just not how it should be. It makes me sad if they felt alone, and I missed an opportunity to let them know that they were not alone.

Can I just submit that none of us is alone? I don’t want you to feel alone just as I don’t want to feel that way. And maybe if we all talked about that just a little bit more, we would find that there is comfort that we could all find in each other. I am not the only one with doubts or frustrations. I am not the only one wishing things were different. I am not the only one who feels inadequate. I am not the only one who sometimes feels like there is not enough hope or faith to go around, or that I don’t have enough of a testimony to share it. And I am not the only one who chooses to stay despite those things. But I will tell you that one of the reasons that allows me to stay despite all those other things, is the people that have shared their vulnerable imperfections of faith with me. I know I’m not alone even if sometimes I still feel that way. Those are my people. And the people who, despite having very little in the way of doubts, who have wonderful testimonies, who maybe have no clue why I struggle with certain topics because it comes so naturally to them... yet still give me the space I need to feel like I fit, even when I'm not sure how, who love me amidst my frustration, and comfort me amidst my sadness without trying to fix me or barrage me with platitudes... they answer questions when I ask them, but do not advise unsolicited. Those are my people.

So in case it needs to be said, you are not alone. If there is but one truth that you can cling to that tells you that this is the church where you belong, that is okay. Sometimes it's okay for your testimony to be "I know this is where I'm supposed to be right now, even if I don't like it." Because sometimes that has been my testimony. And asking questions is always okay and you should feel safe asking them. We don’t always get the answers we want. But we should always feel safe in asking them. I ask them. I am grateful for the people who listen even when they can’t answer them. Because, if you recall, one of the things we covenant to when we are baptized is to mourn with those that mourn and comfort those that stand in need of comfort. And I have never felt more loved than when someone fulfills that covenant, when I am in need of it. 

I hope we can strive not only to be willing to fulfill that covenant, but also willing to rely on others to fulfill that covenant.

Counselor’s Wife

My husband was recently called to serve as a counselor in our branch presidency. For those that don’t know, in our church, a “Branch” is a church unit defined by geographical location. The primary difference between a “Branch” and a “Ward” is that there are specific requirements regarding how many members there are within the boundaries to qualify as a ward. Because our boundary lines were recently redrawn, we are now a new branch. A Branch President is essentially the equivalent to a Bishop (with some differences I won’t get into at the moment). 

This has been a bumpy road for me. In the beginning I had strong confirmations from the Spirit that this was good, and this was right and that I could and should support him in this. And then the bumps hit that I knew I would struggle with—that those who know me well knew I would struggle with. And toss in the bumpy road of figuring out schedules and navigating all the communication that I need, and how to talk to Michael about my needs, and him figuring out how and how much to communicate with me, and needing to feel able to talk to him about my struggles and frustrations and differences of opinion regarding choices that were being made and things that were happening… but also feeling like doing so meant that I was failing to sustain and support him, which I don’t want. I want him to feel like I sustain and support him. Toss in with all that the fact that I went off one of my anti-depressant/anti-anxiety meds during this window and went through about one/two weeks of withdrawal symptoms—some of which still haven’t gone away. I have found some reason to cry more times than I can count since this calling was presented. Sometimes it was good happy crying. Much of the time it hasn’t been. And sometimes it’s for no reason at all. 

You go through a process like this and you yearn to feel validated and understood. Look online and you’ll find dozens and dozens of stories and blogs and accounts from women on what it is like to be the bishop’s wife. But there aren’t stories or blogs from the wives of the counselors. There is a large part of me that feels incredibly invalidated by this. But I don’t think it’s because none of those women struggled. It’s because they felt they didn’t have space to voice their feelings because “the wife of the Bishop has it worse.” I’m not really going to argue that. But maybe it would be more accurate to say “the wife of the bishop has it different.” There is a lot in common with our experiences, but there are also things that are different. And I won't claim to know what all she feels. The wife of the bishop has to reconcile her feelings with the choices her husband is making. The wife of the counselor has to reconcile that her husband is in some ways at the mercy of the decisions the bishop is making. Obviously it's more complicated than that and there’s more I could say on that subject but I’m not in a place to do so right now. 

I don’t really want to make the focus of this about all the things that make this hard. This is not the place. And I have already felt frustrated by people trying to get me to talk about things in the wrong place, or on an emotional level that is not on par with the kind of relationship that I have with that person. 

I just want to say that despite all of that… despite the regular frustration and annoyance and disappointment and sadness and sometimes anger that have popped up because of all of this, I still feel like I have reason to be grateful. Because despite all of that, I have felt like I have had an added measure of the Spirit. I have felt blessed again and again and again to feel a confirmation about something before it has happened and also after it happens. I witness it happen and feel a confirmation that God really is in my life right now. I have continued to feel a confirmation that our Branch President is who it is supposed to be. That he has been called by God and whatever his faults, is meant to be in this position. And that has helped me feel compassion and grace even in the midst of frustration, and I am grateful for that. I have needed that, and I know I will continue to need that. 

I have been blessed to feel a desire to grow in my faith in ways I have not felt motivated to grow in years. I have felt blessed by a desire to help my children grow their faith even in subjects I find difficult. I have been blessed with people I can talk to, with whom I can voice my doubts and my frustrations and they have made it safe for me to do so. I haven’t always had that in past struggles. I have felt blessed that my husband and I are currently in a place where I can voice my struggles and frustrations with him. It still feels like dangerous ground, because I hate that voicing those frustrations can come across as a lack of support for him… but it also feels sacred that I feel safe doing so because it hasn’t always been that way. I am forever grateful for that and I don’t want to lose that or take it for granted. It hasn’t been perfect, but I am proud of how we are managing this as a family, even if improvements can still be made.

I can’t speak to what the rest of this journey will look like. I know I won’t enjoy all of it. I know sometimes it will be easier than it is now and I know sometimes it may get harder. But I do have confirmation that I will have the Spirit to comfort me and I will have friends to comfort me and I can be that comfort for them too. I can have the Spirit to lean on, and I can grow in ways I haven’t. That doesn’t take away from the hard. Never mistake that to mean that I think the Spirit will make this less hard. In a lot of ways I don’t think that’s true (although I can recognize the validity of the argument to the contrary). But I do know the Spirit can add to the experience. I can’t say right now whether that means that it will be worth it, but I can say that right now it feels worth it. Even when I don’t want it to be. It feels worth it. There have been days when I have yearned to give up. And I have been blessed with the strength to not give up.

I believe that Heavenly Father has a plan. I believe he uses imperfect human beings to aid in the progression of that plan. And the Branch President, and my husband, and the other counselor, and the other wives, and myself all get to put up with the things that make each of us fallible. But we (like everyone else) also have the knowledge that His plan will buoy us, even though it is often carried out by the flawed disciples he shepherds.