In April 2017, I found myself in a deep and severe depressive episode. Some actions of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at the uppermost level have been painful for me to witness. And, even though, I love my ward and stake while I was depressed, it was very hard for me to get through anything hosted by my ward or stake without crying or feeling physically ill.
Much of my pain involves the exclusion of children of LGBTQ families being baptized until they are 18, and the Church’s response to the problem of Church leaders sexually abusing members of their congregation as well as being unwilling to believe many survivors of sexual assault.
But, lately, I have felt the Spirit whisper that I should try again, and I am attending my ward (the two-hour block has been so helpful for me because I still have a lot of feelings to manage during the block). I use journaling and meditation to help me feel more in-tune with the Spirit and to better love and understand those who are teaching. Here is my first journal entry on my first Sunday trying this new experiment.
1/20/19
Strangely hopeful
On Monday, E (my daughter) asked if she could get baptized and if we could start going to church. Then, she told me how she was planning on reading one page of her scriptures every night. I’m not sure where this came from, and this isn’t the first time she has suggested this, but it is the first time that I felt ready to help her…I mean she’s eight, and she creates these ambitious spiritual goals. I want to help her, but I kept getting tied up in my own emotions.
So, E and I came today, and I’m here in sacrament meeting, trying to figure out how I feel. I keep looking/trying to feel if God wanted me to come back, and I don’t get a feeling one way or the other. It reminds me of when I was praying about whether I should go on a mission. Ultimately, I felt like God would be happy with either choice.
What if God is letting me choose again? What if this feeling of being “nice” (not good, not bad, not even fine, but “nice” with all of its superficial connotations) in a perfunctorily familiar, comfortable way is just what I need? This feels a little boring to me, but I am relieved that it also feels normal and no longer harmful for me to participate in.
That seems doable, but I wonder…
Should I go to the LDS Church even though it’s not safe or comfortable for others?
Is it morally OK for me to get what I need out of it and ignore the rest even though that can perpetuate harm?
What obligation do I have to my children? To the marginalized? To the Mormon community? To those who are going to insist that everyone calls them members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?
I guess I could go and take what I can from it and leave the rest.
I don’t have good answers to those questions, but I think and pray about them every day.
Partly, I feel like I’d be returning because this church is what I know. I’m too lazy and too old to find something new. I know I can find some spiritual nourishment here, but is it enough? Is that a good enough reason?
Then again, I don’t want this for my children. I hate that my lack of attendance has branded them as “less than” or unfortunate. I hate that I have had to make religiousity and piety so complicated for them. I should know where I stand so I can teach them where to stand, but I’m lost. I am so lost…
If I was doing this, i.e. finding a church, for my kids, I would keep searching and dragging them along to find spiritual sustenance in a new (and ideally final) religious home. But isn’t that putting a set of expectations on my kids? How is that different than if I return to full fellowship in our ward and then, expect them to be LDS? Is that fair? Is that right?
I know that I can’t choose my children’s spiritual path. I can only let them watch and observe mine as I muddle through and trust that that is enough for me and for them, but I continue to feel heartbroken that I can’t seem to make anything about my religious life work.
7 Responses
As always, I love your questions. They push me and console me and I’m so glad you are brave enough to ask them.
Hi Emily, I hope that you either have decreased symptoms of depression or anxiety since 2017, or that you are getting help for such, either via therapy, medication, or both. Your health and happiness are the primary consideration.
Your experience resonates deeply, and I take your words very seriously.
The leaders at the top are extremely difficult to take seriously at this point. Our children are at a completely difference place in their faith, and are ready to learn. Your daughter wants to learn all that she can and make a commitment to God, even if she changes her mind later.
The Golden Rule is real. There is nothing superficial or perfunctory in the kind word or gesture. “. . .a smile as small as mine might be precisely their necessity.”
Millions of us, I’d guess the majority, will never insist that we be called other than Mormons. The idea is preposterous.
You are the opposite of lazy, and your children are not branded. (Depression and anxiety always lie to us in important ways, distorting the facts.) In every ward I know, people come and go as they please. (Anyone who sees a problem with that, it’s their problem.) I also don’t think we teach our children where to stand. I learned with my own that each chooses their own path. Food, water, sun, repeat. You clearly are not a mom to set rigid expectations, so you can feel free to relax. They will figure out, in time, what is right for them individually, and that everyone is equal in love and regard within your home and family. This is the way to raise healthy kids.
The reason to go to sacrament meeting is to remember that the body will be resurrected—solid; and that all sins will be washed away—liquid. “Don’t look around, look up,” because there are actually only two people in the room: you and God. The church itself is a vehicle, rusty and broken at best.
I’m in a mixed faith marriage. And while we don’t have kids yet, I think about this a lot. What are we going to do if/when kids do come along? I don’t know, in large part because, like you, I don’t know yet where I stand with my own faith. It’s nice to hear I’m not alone. And it’s oddly comforting to know that it doesn’t get easier. I think because it takes the pressure off having to find answers NOW. If we (the general we) can reframe ‘faith’ as a process instead of a state, maybe that can take some of the anxiety out of it? I don’t know.
So many hard questions! I love that your daughter is empowered to explore spirituality but hope that you aren’t suffering or being harmed in your support. The certaintly of testimony and the, “I know statements” are the hardest part for me in trying to engage with my active Mormon family. If we spoke more precisely with statements of “I hope” or “I have faith because I do not know” I would feel more connected and at peace. The feeling of colluding in something that harms others is keeping me from going back, for now. But Church like my family of origin is a hot mess of dysfunctionality. But it still feels like my mess and my family.
You are amazing for sharing your journey with all of us. The church doesn’t have to be all or nothing. I know it most often feels like that culturally, but it really does not have to be that way.
You are asking the questions we all are asking ourselves.
Thank you for sharing this. It reads like pages of my own heart.