Ok, so the title doesn't make much grammatical sense, but you get the idea. The purpose of this blog is not, and will never be, to document specific reasons why I felt I had to leave Mormonism. It is a place for me to articulate my thoughts about the process: the difficulties, the opportunities, the growing pains, etc. It is also an attempt to communicate to family and friends who may happen upon this in a non-confrontational way "that all may be edified."
1. It was too hard for me to keep my covenants.
When I went through the temple for the first time over 13 years ago, I was really excited to be part of a club of sorts. I was excited to have been initiated into that level of my faith. I enjoyed wearing garments. I didn't find the slight modifications I needed to make in my dress to be a burden. The actual covenants themselves were very much in line with the way I was already living. I felt like I had taken the next step to becoming a fully fledged adult in the church. No, it was not hard to keep my covenants. When you care enough about something and you've made certain promises, it isn't hard. It's a joy.
2. I was offended by someone.
No, again. The worst offense I ever felt in any ward I attended was that the bishopric, for whatever reason, decided to lock people out of the chapel for the sacrament. That's right. So if you busted your buns to get there, but did so a micro-second too late, or had to take out a fussy baby, you were not allowed to participate in the ordinance at all. They did not bring out the sacrament to people in the foyer. Worse, they closed the (locked) doors, not at the start of the actual ordinance, but during the sacrament hymn, which was usually several minutes long. ("Reverently and Meekly Now" anyone?) As a mother of a newborn, at the time, this practice absolutely enraged me. It was difficult enough just to get to church only to show up moments too late to slip in during the hymn, or to even get there on time but the chapel was full and the overflow closed. I let my displeasure be known about this practice, but nothing was ever done to change it. Did I stop attending as a result. No, I did not. My relationship was with my Savior. I believed he knew my heart, and the effort I'd made to be there. (That bishop, btw, was perfectly nice otherwise.)
3. Laziness
Again, no. Church attendance was never difficult for me. I don't say this in a boastful way, but I was never one to just take a Sunday off every now and then. I think it is perfectly fine if you do, but I didn't feel like I needed that. I wanted the spiritual fulfillment. I craved the interaction with friends and neighbors. This was especially important to me in the many years I've spent far away from family. I felt a strong obligation to fulfill my callings and took them seriously, even when they were difficult or uncomfortable (*cough cough Activity Days). Again, I am not saying this to be boastful. It was just something that was not difficult for me. In fact, I find myself still wanting to attend church sometimes, if we're being honest. I miss the ritual. I miss the music--oh, how I miss singing. And I miss my friends, but we all make the effort to see each other in a different setting.
4. Never Had a Testimony
This may be the one reason I didn't leave that is the most untrue. #murderoftheenglishlanguage
I've adopted a light-hearted tone for this post, but I'm going to be put that aside for a moment. I had a testimony. I believed all the things that are typically said over the pulpit during a testimony meeting. I gave 18 months of my life, voluntarily to preaching the Gospel. It was a 168-hour/week gig. It was the hardest thing I've ever done by a long shot--and I have been pregnant and given birth. Twice. I had my disagreements with Church policy and doctrine over the years, but I certainly had a testimony. Sometimes it was hard, but I fought for it. I fought for it HARD.
As I said before, this blog is not a place I will ever go into my reasons for stepping away from my faith. In consideration of the above, however--and if you are a believing member who is reading this--please consider that, whatever my reasons, they were hard enough, big enough, real enough, and painful enough to dislodge me from all of the above. I'm not looking for a medal or a pat on the back or to be called courageous. I'm fully aware that this choice has caused both my family and myself, at times, enormous sadness and pain. I know there is concern about how our kids will turn out. I know because... I know. I've been on both sides of this. All I ask is that maybe we can set aside assumptions altogether and just allow that people make the decisions that they do for their own reasons, and to set aside judgment.
We are still more alike than we are different.
1. It was too hard for me to keep my covenants.
When I went through the temple for the first time over 13 years ago, I was really excited to be part of a club of sorts. I was excited to have been initiated into that level of my faith. I enjoyed wearing garments. I didn't find the slight modifications I needed to make in my dress to be a burden. The actual covenants themselves were very much in line with the way I was already living. I felt like I had taken the next step to becoming a fully fledged adult in the church. No, it was not hard to keep my covenants. When you care enough about something and you've made certain promises, it isn't hard. It's a joy.
2. I was offended by someone.
No, again. The worst offense I ever felt in any ward I attended was that the bishopric, for whatever reason, decided to lock people out of the chapel for the sacrament. That's right. So if you busted your buns to get there, but did so a micro-second too late, or had to take out a fussy baby, you were not allowed to participate in the ordinance at all. They did not bring out the sacrament to people in the foyer. Worse, they closed the (locked) doors, not at the start of the actual ordinance, but during the sacrament hymn, which was usually several minutes long. ("Reverently and Meekly Now" anyone?) As a mother of a newborn, at the time, this practice absolutely enraged me. It was difficult enough just to get to church only to show up moments too late to slip in during the hymn, or to even get there on time but the chapel was full and the overflow closed. I let my displeasure be known about this practice, but nothing was ever done to change it. Did I stop attending as a result. No, I did not. My relationship was with my Savior. I believed he knew my heart, and the effort I'd made to be there. (That bishop, btw, was perfectly nice otherwise.)
3. Laziness
Again, no. Church attendance was never difficult for me. I don't say this in a boastful way, but I was never one to just take a Sunday off every now and then. I think it is perfectly fine if you do, but I didn't feel like I needed that. I wanted the spiritual fulfillment. I craved the interaction with friends and neighbors. This was especially important to me in the many years I've spent far away from family. I felt a strong obligation to fulfill my callings and took them seriously, even when they were difficult or uncomfortable (*cough cough Activity Days). Again, I am not saying this to be boastful. It was just something that was not difficult for me. In fact, I find myself still wanting to attend church sometimes, if we're being honest. I miss the ritual. I miss the music--oh, how I miss singing. And I miss my friends, but we all make the effort to see each other in a different setting.
4. Never Had a Testimony
This may be the one reason I didn't leave that is the most untrue. #murderoftheenglishlanguage
I've adopted a light-hearted tone for this post, but I'm going to be put that aside for a moment. I had a testimony. I believed all the things that are typically said over the pulpit during a testimony meeting. I gave 18 months of my life, voluntarily to preaching the Gospel. It was a 168-hour/week gig. It was the hardest thing I've ever done by a long shot--and I have been pregnant and given birth. Twice. I had my disagreements with Church policy and doctrine over the years, but I certainly had a testimony. Sometimes it was hard, but I fought for it. I fought for it HARD.
As I said before, this blog is not a place I will ever go into my reasons for stepping away from my faith. In consideration of the above, however--and if you are a believing member who is reading this--please consider that, whatever my reasons, they were hard enough, big enough, real enough, and painful enough to dislodge me from all of the above. I'm not looking for a medal or a pat on the back or to be called courageous. I'm fully aware that this choice has caused both my family and myself, at times, enormous sadness and pain. I know there is concern about how our kids will turn out. I know because... I know. I've been on both sides of this. All I ask is that maybe we can set aside assumptions altogether and just allow that people make the decisions that they do for their own reasons, and to set aside judgment.
We are still more alike than we are different.
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