To be completely honest, ever since 2019 and even before that, I've had severe ups and downs with my faith.
But, who doesn't?
No, truly, who doesn't.
I've seen friends and family ebb and flow in and out of faith the past few years. I've watched and listened and have seen their lives change. In a lot of ways, they seem happier, fuller, freer. They seem to have found clarity outside of the gospel with a whole lot less rules and freer thought and greater sense of self. I told myself that I would be okay with leaving my religion, my tradition, my blood, my God, if I were to ever know with certainty that this was what I needed to do.
I stand by that still -- I have always questioned, always wondered. I have read, have listened intently at others' stories and victories and struggles. I have cried with people who have sought answers to no avail from a seemingly silent God. I have read with sincerity the stories of those who have made the heartbreaking choice (for them and for me) to leave Christianity in pursuit of a greater, better, wider happiness.
When I was faced with a despairingly cold and silent and difficult faith crisis that year, I felt totally alone. I was in a situation where I was unable to attend church, my boyfriend at the time was emotionally unavailable, and I felt that I had nobody to talk to about my struggle that would be able to understand. I felt that my parents and friends would be disappointed. My time zone didn't accomodate loving, heartfelt conversations with close, faithful friends. I thought, perhaps it is now my turn. Perhaps I, too, shall find that fuller and bigger happiness others testify of when they leave the church.
I didn't find it. Actually, I didn't even end up having the chance to search for it.
I told myself before I made as big of a life altering decision as to leave my religion, I would read the scriptures (which for me I considered the Bible and Book of Mormon) fully all the way through first. A last hurrah, as you will.
To be honest, the timeline is a bit hazy for what happened after that. Actually, yes, I do remember, shortly after I started reading the scriptures again, I had a very clear conviction from God that I needed to teach Mandarin at the Missionary Training Center. I knew God was aware of me in that moment. I applied and taught there for 10 months, and it was the greatest job ever.
I laugh about it now as I am writing this. Because this has always been a pattern for me. It goes like this:
I doubt, I despair, I shake my fists at an omniscient God who seems unwilling to comply to my neatly bulleted requests... and so sadly, begrudgingly, I make my list of questions about life and policy and the world that have still (still?!) been unanswered, I open up my scriptures, and I begin what I am convinced will be my final read-through before I call it quits for good. I guess, if you want, you could call this pathetic attempt "faith".
Shortly after this "faith" attempt, I typically naturally find myself more hopeful about myself and God and the future. It doesn't come all at once. It comes in bits and pieces - an insight here, a fleet of gratitude there. As I read, I see things a bit differently and find that, somehow, the living Word continues to live on for me. The people whose stories I read in the scriptures show me chapter after chapter that God is real, God cares, and God is powerful. I have learned through this pattern (and apparently it's a lesson that I need to learn over and over again) to realize the greatness of God.
The most recent time this happened was just last month -- June 6, 2022. I cried to my husband, Jonny, about how I felt so lost and directionless in my life and how devastated I was that I might have to renounce the Church and God and Christianity and religion as a whole and I was truly so SO sad. I picked up my scriptures. I had made that pact with myself three years prior. But I knew, just knew, this time the outcome would be different. A friend told me that during their most faithful time - reading their scriptures every day - they had come to the conclusion to leave the church and redefine and re-examine their faith in God. I was sure this time (remember, this was just a month ago) that this was my time. I would join the "faith transition" announcement Instagram posts at last, and finally be accepted as authentic and intelligent and cool and forward-thinking and actually ACTUALLY loving and accepting towards all.
But no... instead, I am writing this little meager blog post about my faith in Jesus Christ and my love for my Father in Heaven. Well, that's what it's about to be.
Despite my best efforts to "see the light" I am back again, like a yoyo, reading my scriptures daily, reflecting on all I have learned through this season of deep pondering and soul-wrenching conversations with God, and excited about my future again. My questions are still (still!) there, but somehow they don't feel as looming and black and white and detrimental and divisive anymore. They just feel like questions. They are written down in neat bullet points, patiently waiting for more clarity and understanding.
Speaking of understanding, I know, truly, that faith crises are really really hard and vulnerable and scary. It's terrible to pick a part what you've been taught and what once brought so great a happiness but now only brings pain. It's awful to feel confused, and worse, deceived. My heart goes out to my friends and family and others who may be reading this who have mourned their loss of belief and have felt judged, excluded, and incredibly lonely. I respect and admire your journeys - truly - I read and listen to every word you choose to share about your lives in and out of faith. I can only speak of my own personal experience and no one else's.
It is my experience that God is still (still!) wanting to speak to us. He still loves you, He still wants you close to Him, and He still has more He wants to make out of your life. I am writing because I just want to provide an alternative voice, a hope, that your belief is not in vain. If you find yourself struggling or in the midst of a dark space spiritually, you are not alone. The small choices you make matter. There is a God who believes in you and all He asks is that you try to return the favor. I do not claim to have a perfect testimony, or perfect faith, or any answers at all -- I am learning and growing and searching just like everyone else. Although, admittedly, this is not everyone's experience, it is mine: My learning and growing and searching so far have always led me back to the same place -- kneeling at His feet.
Thanks for reading,
Kimber