I’ve been on a leave of absence in blogging for the last six-ish months because of some chaos in my personal life. I had hoped that upon coming back to blogging, I could give a brief summary of what happened (emphasis on past-tense) and then tie it up in a neat little bow with a devotional-style spiritual lesson about what I learned about the comfortably in the rear-view mirror challenge. It’s how general conference talks and Ensign articles are framed. It’s not, however, how real life usually works.
The problem that caused me to need to step back for a bit is still ongoing. It’s reached a slow simmer instead of a full rolling boil, but it could flare up again at any moment, and it shows no sign of truly resolving anytime soon. Life is long, and the trial won’t be permanent, but it feels permanent in the moment.
I wish we heard more at church about people being in the middle of things. Our baptismal covenant includes mourning with those who mourn and comforting those who stand in need of comfort, but we sure try hard not to mourn or need comfort at church. I think it’s because we want to be seen as favored by God, and we’ve absorbed the erroneous idea that those who are favored by God have lives of ease.
I’ve made a motion to dismiss this trial, and the great Judge of the universe has not seen fit yet to grant that motion. I guess I’ll have to wait for the verdict. In the mean time, I’ll lean on my friends, who have been there to mourn with me and comfort me. And maybe that’s the lesson from this trial – I have people in my corner.
7 Responses
As a child sexual abuse survivor who went into social work and ended up working with other child sexual abuse survivors, I was frequently told that I should write a book about healing. Yeah, OK, I will as soon as I am through it myself. I was waiting until I had that happy ending with all the pain healed so that I could actually give others more hope than just surviving life. I was late to social work, as I was married with three children before going back to get my degree. So, by the time I was actually working as a social worker, I was pretty far along in the healing process. I told my clients that I was still in the process, but probably a few years further along. But every time I thought about writing that book, I looked for the happy ending and I just wasn’t there yet.
And especially a happy, spiritual, inspiring ending that would make my fellow Mormons feel good about our church and let them pat themselves on the back about how our church has the truth and be able to tell about how my church helped me heal. Quite the opposite, now with the abuse 60 years in the past, I am as far as possible out of the patriarchal church that values males more than females. I had to escape from a religion that thinks anyone who is in mourning is in need of repentance and a church with no concept of needing to heal from someone else’s sin. I had to escape a religion that felt that I owed my abuser, rather than the other way around. I had to escape the shame that being female, somehow I had caused the abuse. I had to find a different concept of God than the one I found in the Mormon temple where I was nothing to God except for how I was attached to a man. I had to be able to heal from licked cupcake and chewed gum lessons. How does one say in a book that the same religion that taught me that I am a child of God, also taught me that I was permanently damaged and could never heal because you can’t unchew gum. People like Elizabeth Smart can talk publicly about sexual abuse, but I can’t because my abuser was also my father. Because I have people that I love who also love my abuser, I have to protect them by protecting him. I still have to keep his shameful secret, as if I have something to be ashamed of.
Trudy, good luck with whatever trial you are dealing with and just know that even if you cannot tie it up in a pretty bow for church testimony meetings, that doesn’t matter to God one bit. Our Savior was good at mourning with those who mourn, even if this church is horrible at it.
Yes! Yes! Thank you for all of what you wrote. You gave words to so much of how I feel. I am currently in therapy using IFS therapy. I hope it will help with my healing. Even though I am happily married in the temple to a very good man, I also have had to “find a different concept of God than the one I found in the Mormon temple where I was nothing to God except for how I was attached to a man.”
This: “I wish we heard more at church about people being in the middle of things. Our baptismal covenant includes mourning with those who mourn and comforting those who stand in need of comfort, but we sure try hard not to mourn or need comfort at church. I think it’s because we want to be seen as favored by God, and we’ve absorbed the erroneous idea that those who are favored by God have lives of ease.” Thank you so much for sharing, and we wish you peace, strength, and safety.
“I wish we heard more at church about people being in the middle of things.”
I think an expected consequence of having a patriarchy is that most men are not “in the middle of things – life events” in a vulnerable/intimate way, so they attempt to lead through invulnerability and distance. Women step into “the middle of things” for each other in friend circles, in family, in birth/living/death – as a survival mechanism ironically enough.
Because church culture defines so much of “living” by gender and endorse “invulnerability” over “vulnerability” in our leaders, and “1 size fits all” over “intimacy” [in any form] – that creates the situation where the default is “Sunday best dress and behavior” and “everyday living” dicotomies.
NOTE: That is why most people (male and female) love Chieko Okazaki’s writings – she spoke from a place of vulnerability and individual adaptation that sanctified (and gave permission to others to sanctify) everyday living and encouraged people to bring their relationship to Jesus Christ into their everyday lives.
I’ve been in the midst of it for the past couple of years. There is something beautiful and holy about existing in the liminal spaces, but it often feels lonely and endless. Sending you wishes for patience, strength, and growth as you navigate your liminal journey.
Yes! I too wish we had been taught more about how to deal with the hard stuff while in the middle of it, and acknowledge it is hard and not fair at all! I hope whatever is going on gets resolved soon, but if it never does you will find peace.
I’m sorry that this situation is ongoing without resolution in sight. Your thoughts here are so insightful, even if not past-tense and wrapped up. Thank you for this.