Remember the Good, Even when You Feel Like a Loser

Memories are interesting. They can make us laugh out loud in a public space. They can bring us to our knees with heaving sobs. They can shape who we are. I saw something that said, You don't know what a moment means until it becomes a memory. I liked that. I also feel like art imbued with memories or based off memories is a charming thing. I made a video in college for one of my classes with Daniel Everett on this topic. It's called Peanut People, and it stems from when I was a child and would go to a job site with my dad. I remember eating peanuts and putting the shells on my fingers as hair, personifying each finger.



When I was a kid I had a presentation at school in front of the whole third grade and my mom was supposed to be there, but she didn't make it because she got caught in Phoenix (I get it, I'm not upset about this). I remember sitting there looking for her, trying to stall because I knew she wouldn't miss it, she came to all of our things. I thought she would be sad if she got there right after I went. So when it was my turn I stood there, with my poster, looking over the audience, waiting for her to walk in. Silently. I remember a teacher standing close to me just behind the curtain, calling me over to her in a whisper. My mom was so reliably always supporting us that I knew she would come. But this time she didn't.

I think this contributed to the buddings of my trust issues. They weren't a big deal back then, they didn't interfere with my happy naive life. But as I grew older I learned to fortify the walls I slowly built around my heart. With each failed relationship, unmet expectation, or unforeseen bend in the road on the path my life is taking I added to the combination lock protecting my heart. I depicted this idea back in 2008 when I sculpted this self portrait. Back then the correct combination was L-O-V-E. I spent a lot of time planning all the options. I know H-A-T-E was an option. But if I were to create this again, I wouldn't use letters to spell out one word. I would use words that would represent qualities I need in a person before I can let them into my heart. Words like Trustworthy, Honest, Kind, Faithful, Open, Loving, Affectionate, Understanding, and Real would likely be on there.

I think most people who are divorced have trust issues. I certainly do. The person I trusted most with my heart, my hopes and dreams, my body, my challenges or failures, discarded his promises to me and his affection for me. He withdrew himself from our relationship, proving not to be the devoted spouse I thought I had found. He became someone I didn't know or want to know. I resent him because I have difficulty remembering that time of my life. It's like a picture in my mind that's too dark to see everything. I can see that it's a picture of a small family with a couple kids who maybe were in a dance class, but it's too blurry and hazy to make out the details. I feel like he robbed me of that time with my children. And I feel like he continues to take my time with my children from me because I have to share them with him every week. It's the worst and hardest thing about being divorced! And I feel like I am always the one sacrificing. I'm the one who has to hold my crying daughters when I tell them it's time to go to his house. I'm the one who hears they don't get to see me enough. I'm the one constantly having to see the good in the situation, even when it feels selfish.

I realize I have trust issues but I think it's begun to really affect my life and the way I perceive the world. Deep in my mind, I believe that once someone gets to know me they won't want to be with me. This has happened every time I've had a relationship. Or even an almost relationship. The last guy I've had real feeling for said he feels the same, but doesn't want a relationship. And this other guy seems like he wants to date me now, but I know that once he gets to know me better he will realize that I'm not what he's looking for. I don't know what it is about me that makes me undesirable. I've worked really hard on myself to be the best I can be. I know I still have flaws, but I am working on them. I have a clear and positive outlook most of the time. I keep Christ at the center of my life. Maybe I'm just boring.

I have a friend on facebook who recently posted about emotional abuse. She shared this article and some of her thoughts on it. I couldn't help but think of my own experiences with emotional abuse. One of the things my ex-husband would do throughout our marriage was make comments attacking what I said. He would make me feel like I didn't have anything worthwhile to say and that I should keep my mouth shut.

When I have a conversation with someone, interjecting with small comments or jokes is a natural part to add to the flow of it. This is how my sister's and I talk with each other and they are my best friends. So when I was clearly actively listening to him and engaged in the conversation with him I was taken aback, hurt, and confused when he declared, "this is why it's so hard to talk to you." I've been careful about what I say and when I speak ever since. I feel fear when I do talk or interject because obviously people hate that and therefore me. He would even get upset with me when we would admire the moon at the same time. He would point it out first and I would say something like, "Yeah I just saw that!" He would then ask why I didn't point it out to him -- at first I thought he was joking, but now I'm not so sure.

I had a friend tell me recently that I was funny. In my mind I was like, I'm funny? Wahoo! I've always been the funny one with my sisters, not that they aren't funny, but my silliness is beyond ridiculous. I am slowly learning that when I talk, 1) people do listen, and 2) what I have to say does matter, is enjoyable, and appreciated. Austin didn't value what I had to say. I know this because he would disregard my feelings and advice.

After he graduated from law school he didn't have a job lined up and it took some time to find the right place. While normal, this was understandably frustrating for him, and like many others I've heard about, weakened his faith. He worked with the ACLU in SLC over the summer as he applied for different jobs. When the gay marriage laws passed, his coworkers had a party and took a group picture to celebrate. He told me then that he didn't know how he felt about it, so he opted to take the picture rather than to be in it.

During that summer he talked with me about some questions that arose because he read the blog of someone who was recently excommunicated. This blogger used a public platform to ask questions that were difficult, perhaps with no clear secular answers. Asking questions is fine, good even, but not on a public forum. The problem here is that there are people who may find what he writes but aren't ready or capable of thinking about these or have the tools to truly understand God's plan and then they fall away. It's not faith building.

1 Corinthians 8:9 But take heed lest by any means this liberty of yours become a stumblingblock to them that are weak.

When Austin told me about these questions that turned out to be the beginning of his way out of the church, I told him my view on them. I thought he was satisfied with what I had to say on the topic, but apparently he was not. When I learned he was still exploring this other blog I asked him to not read any more anti stuff. He actually told me okay. Obviously he didn't mean it. He had asked me to do (or to not do) specific things previously and I respected him enough to comply. He didn't respect me enough to heed my wisdom. Or talk with religion professors at BYU. Or Becky. Or his parents. Or the bishop. Or with me further about what he was really going through and thinking until it was too late.

It's like murder.

If you obsess over something with hate in your heart it will fester in your mind, creating a darkness that will overtake your whole life. If you talk to someone about it or seek forgiveness, you can be set free. You won't have to think about it any more. In my mind obsessing over what we don't, or can't know in this life is like this. Just accept that there are things God understands, that we cannot right now, and know He's got your back if you rely on and trust in Him. But if you plot and plan against Him, then sooner or later, you'll commit murder. And it will not be truth and light that is extinguished, but yourself. This is what happened. He wouldn't talk to me about his questions. He didn't talk to anyone. He just kept digging, finding more ways to hammer the wedge between him and God, whether they were founded on truth or just parading as such.

Then he flipped the switch and BOOM! He was gone. Like a suicide bomber. Like a vial of poison -- he swallowed the lies of anti and exmo. Like swallowing a bullet. Like jumping in front of a bus or off a cliff. He was gone. And it was his own choice. Because he didn't trust me or value what I had to say enough to listen to me. He didn't want it to be true enough to defend God and His plan. He didn't fight for his his family, or for me.

I have been feeling unheard and unneeded. I am grateful for the support I receive and for the inexpensive living arrangement I have. But I feel like I need and want more of my own space. I try to be as self-reliant as possible, but then I feel like my mom expects us to join them for dinner every night. It is easier, but easy isn't always better. It doesn't give me purpose. It's like eating together is part of what I pay in rent. I feel useless and underutilized. I miss cooking with Becky. I got to help cook the dinner for last nights book club. We had a four course meal. It was so fun cooking with someone. I just wish that if we're going to eat together regularly, that we could do it like a dinner group.

Monday: Mom cooks
Tuesday: Take-out
Wednesday: Lisa cooks
Thursday: Kimber cooks
Friday: Date night
Saturday: Solo
Sunday: Family dinner, where we can all contribute or we can do our own things

Last week when my parents were out of town for education week at BYU, I felt more of a purpose in life. I got to cook and clean and live independently. And it felt so good. I need more opportunity to be seen as valued and feel like I matter. When I don't get to cook or help or contribute or have a calling or ministering people, my gloomy thoughts of being alone tell me that if I wasn't around no one would notice or care. 

Though I don't have a calling or anyone to minister to, I serve where I can. My friends on the activities committee in our single adult ward have let me help them with their callings. I have helped with food and shopping before, but this week I was asked to lead the discussion at book club. It made sense because we (finally) read the book I have been wanting to read. I thought it would give me purpose and let me feel like I belong, but it was hijacked and the notes and questions I spend a few hours preparing earlier in the week got tossed in the trash because no one would listen to me. I just wanted to serve, but I feel like I failed.

To make matters worse, I had to deal with someone who was once one of my best friends, flaunt that he is friends and friendly with everyone around me, but wont address me or talk to me at all. It really surprised me that he could be such a jerk. I really don't know what to do. I feel like I should keep giving him chances and the benefit of the doubt. This seems like charity to me.

Moroni 7:45 And charity suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

(I really can't think of this scripture without thinking of Chelsea and her actions to help us memorize it.) But at the same time I feel like that could be foolish, and perpetuate the hurt that comes from his estranged behavior.

With the combination of these emotional battles I'm dealing with that are making me feel unwanted, I needed to destroy something. I got some of the left over vegetables, my best friend, and a baseball bat, and went out to the desert. We spent some time exploding mushrooms, squashing tomatoes, and giving the eggplant a beating. It was fun and silly, and it really did help to make me feel better.

I think everyone knows of Kristina Kuzmic. She has talked about how she felt after her divorce. It's a very difficult situation. But she shared a story about how she got out of her own depressed bubble by serving others. Service really is such an incredibly powerful tool. You don't do it just to feel better about yourself, but when you do it you do feel better. She had to remember what she was good at. And when she figured it out she was able bring joy to others, which in turn, brought her joy.

So I asked myself: What am I good at? I am good at art. I'm good at cooking. I'm good at recognizing the beauty around me. In fact, this week I witnessed an amazing sunset. The majestic and bubbling clouds were glowing rich with gold and pink and orange. As I stood gazing up at it with my kids we talked about how it must be what Heaven looks like. I remember watching sunsets in Arizona growing up and thinking the same thing. 

The next morning as we listened to one of our favorite CDs from Calee Reed, the song What Heaven Feels Like came on. Eva commented that we should have listened to it last night while we were watching the sunset. I agreed. I love to focus on the good around me and find the Lord's hand in my life. I don't always do this. Obviously, considering how dark and dreary this post has come out. But when I do, I think that's as close to what heaven feels like as we can get on this earth, outside of the temple. I think this is something else I'm good at. I think this is one of my gifts of the Spirit.

Jesus Loves Me

As I was driving to church today I was thinking about the questions I don't have answers to. I was trying to dissect my feelings and figure out the Lords plan for me. We sang Where Can I Turn for Peace? for the opening hymn in Sacrament meeting. I related so much to this song today. It quieted my restless needing to know what I cannot and it brought me peace. I like to think about all the Savior has done for me during the sacrament. It's a quiet time I have every week to honor His atoning sacrifice. I like to help focus my kids minds on Him during this time, too. I will lean over and whisper in their ear, "Guess what. Jesus loves you!" Sometimes we talk a little more about Him and how they know He loves them, and how they show their love for Him. I missed whispering that today because I got to go to my mid-singles ward. But we had a special musical number first thing after the ordinance and in the song, Gethsemane, it says, "Jesus loves me." I thought that was a powerful thing to declare. I focus on helping others know that Jesus loves them, and I talk about how much I love Jesus, but I don't know the last time I declared, "Jesus loves ME." But He does. I know He does.

I sat alone during this meeting. I feel like I am supposed to get comfortable being alone. Sitting alone in church, and in life, I look at other people who seem to be comfortable and confident in being alone. I think to myself, just act like them and no one will know you are lava on the inside. I realize no one is looking at me, thinking, she has no friends, or something, but I still feel self conscious and want to disappear. I am the kind of person who likes to have a friend or two by my side, and when I do, I am comfortable and happy. 

It's strange to me when I hear people talk about how they want to stand out. They do things to be seen, like wear something glitzy, post personal things publicly on social media, or even perform a musical number in hopes to get noticed. They enjoy being the center of attention because they think it will get them a date. I know multiple people like this. I don't relate. It makes me feel so uncomfortable. I feel like I'm the opposite, I look for ways I can blend in and not be noticed. It seems to me that if you can get to know someone without that extra stuff it would make for a more genuine and sincere connection. And a more honest and intimate relationship. 

I know this is a public blog, but I'm not posting to get attention, sympathy, or a date. I also think it's more private to post here. If someone wants to scroll past (which I imagine most people do) that's fine. If someone wants to get to know me better or if they already care about me (my mom) then they can click in. But mostly, I post for two reasons. First, because I cannot keep it in, and second, because I hope and believe it can help someone else.

Relief Society was also good today. The lesson was on the same talk I happened to listen to this morning, Look unto Jesus Christ, by Elder Kim B. Clark.

In this talk he tells the story of the woman with the issue of blood. She had so much faith in Jesus Christ's healing power that she knew that if she could just touch the hem of His garment she could be healed. The scriptures say that Jesus perceived that power had gone out of Him and He asked who touched Him. I would like to point out that He knew who had touched Him. She didn't want to be noticed, she didn't even want to be acknowledged or recognized by Christ. But He knew her and loved her! She couldn't realize her significance or worth to the Lord, but He did. She spoke up and He blessed her for it, saying, “Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace.” He needed her to come to Him so He could fully bless her.

It was a lovely day at church, but my spiritual enrichment for the day did not end there. I had the last performance of Joseph Smith the Prophet tonight. I'm so grateful to have been part of this concert. Music is such a beautiful and powerful way to gently touch our souls and teach us truths. It reminded me of something Joseph Smith said, "I knew it, and I knew that God knew it, and I could not deny it." This phrase went through my mind countless times while I was being challenged and pushed to my limits during the darkest hours of my life.

When I was married to someone who was against my beliefs, and therefore against me, I woke up every day and chose to believe. It was not always easy. I sometimes thought, it would be so much easier if I just let go. But then I would think about it and that phrase would enter my mind. I have witnessed miracles, from small to significant. I have been physically, emotionally, and spiritually healed through priesthood blessings. I have born children and felt the miracle that is bringing life into the world! I have felt the hand of God directing me in my life, and I have been to the temple. I know what I know is true. I know there is a God who knows me and loves me. I knew it then and I know it now. And I cannot and will not deny it.

Today I felt known by the Lord. I could feel that He is aware of me. There were lots of tender mercies that repeated thoughts I was having, answered question, or comforted my soul. I know He is there and I believe that He loves me.

Music

I've had a lot on my mind lately. I've been wanting to write another post, but the words wont come. Here are some songs that I've been singing and listening to a lot.

First, this one is from a program I'll be participating in next weekend. I've loved this song for a long time - over ten years.
I sang it in a choir at a BYU fireside with Elder Holland. It's beautiful and hopeful, and lately, for me, heartbreaking.


"Fear not men, for they cannot hurt you."


Next is a song from one of my favorite plays. I have loved the movie since college, when my roommate introduced me to it. I fell in love with the play when my sister and I went to the high school production, also while I was at BYU. We purchased the Broadway CD that night. I saw the play again a year ago, and finished reading the book this week. I love everything about this story. I've been listening to this song on repeat.



Lastly, this one, because, Jeremy Jordan.

When "Endure to the End" Doesn't Look the Way You Think it Should

I have lost people.

My grandma died a couple years ago and I have actually felt a closeness to her since then. I remember one morning as I was waking up and preparing myself for the day, I felt an overwhelming sense of love from her. I could tell that she's looking out for me and still loves me from the other side of the veil. While I've always loved her, I was never particularly close with her. This was not a death that has effected my well-being. It's not something I had to come to terms with.

I have lost people much closer to me, in fact, I lost my closest person. I lost my husband. I truly think of this as a death, even though he didn't physically die. The closest example I have found to illustrate how it feels is from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. when a parasite comes and inhabits a body. When it takes over the body, it effectively kills the person who it now identifies as, while retaining all memories and knowledge. It looks the same, for the most part, but it is in fact a different creature all together. I felt like I was living with a different person, and it wasn't someone I would have chosen for a roommate.



I tried to endure our time together, and make the best of it. I tried to be a happy family for the sake of my children. I tried to accommodate him and his new character. But it was draining. It was work that I wasn't really invested in. I was no longer attracted to him because his spirit was different. I found myself daydreaming of a different life. With a wholly different person.

Then the guilt set in.

This was my husband. I covenanted with God to be loyal and faithful to him. Just because I didn't feel love for him in the same way I once had didn't mean I should give up. That I should leave him. So I endured. I forced myself to smile and carry on. I forced myself to proceed with life as though nothing had changed, even though everything had. I tried to talk with him. I continued to kiss him and be close with him. I'd leave him love notes. Even when I could only feel disgust and hate toward him, I would write down things I loved or admired about him. This was not an easy exercise, but it was a worthwhile one. I never received one back. He wouldn't push himself out of his own self absorbed mind to try to see the good in me. He did at one point share a journal entry he kept on his computer with me. It was about what he disliked about me. Goes to show that what you focus on becomes your reality. This might have even been a self-made reality for him, since what he put me through felt like Gaslighting.

When he finally asked me for a divorce, I was so ready that I eagerly agreed. I felt free. But his timing was terrible. He asked this a week before our five year anniversary, and a month before a family reunion that I had been looking forward to for the past couple years. It would be in Idaho (I had never been to Idaho) for the solar eclipse (I had never seen one in totality), so we agreed we would wait.

This reunion was a lot of fun. We all stayed in a beautiful cabin in a beautiful place. I was glad to get to spend that time with his family. Most of them didn't know our plans to divorce, but I considered it a goodbye. I was sad to lose this family. They were now my family, and I wasn't just losing a selfish husband, I was losing half of my family. And that was a hard reality to face. I loved them.

He didn't move out for another seven months or so after that. It was not an easy seven months. It was empty. It was full of birthdays and holidays. But I needed to feel more like myself again. I had gotten lost in the piles of shadows cluttering up my life. I went back to the Art World. It felt like home as I walked the streets of downtown Scottsdale, though I had never been before. I didn't care if I was alone, because I had Art. I was getting to know fellow artists through their work and their instagram accounts. I began making a lot of Art. Large oil paintings of desert landscapes. I had never done, or liked, paintings like these before, but it was therapeutically filling a hole in my battered heart.

"Homesick"

I've been having a lot of grief counseling articles pop up in my news lately. I particularly liked this one. It talks about what we go through when someone dies, but I have been applying it to how I have felt while coping with losing people I care about from my life. I don't let people into my heart easily. I have a handful of people (outside my family) who I consider to be close and trusted friends. I think I recently lost one of them, which breaks my heart. I am reminded of my BFA Artist Statement:

One of the most influential things that has informed this body of work has been the seemingly bad things that have happened to me. The friends I have lost. The new situations I have found myself in. Friends are important to me. When I let someone into my life I let them into my heart and develop a relationship with them that I can’t imagine not having for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, friendships end. People leave. Move on. Go in other directions. Betray you. Sometimes you can’t help it. It hurts. The pain I have felt and the strength that comes from it is why I believe we will be friends in Heaven. In this show I want to express the importance I put on friendships and the anxiety I feel in meeting new people. Because what starts with anxiety can become something you cherish for eternity.

I'm not grieving over losing my husband any more. It's frustrating having to deal with sharing custody, but I'm not experiencing denial, anger, bargaining, or depression any more, I feel I have reached acceptance in this area. I do feel like I may have some PTSD from what I've gone through.

For example, this last Sunday I went to a fireside by T.C. Christensen, a cinematographer, film director, and writer. He shared some clips from a movie coming out this weekend called, The Fighting Preacher. It looks really good. One of the clips was of the preachers wife, Rebecca, being attacked by a thick darkness that came with the lies and murmurings of those who were fighting against God. I was uncomfortable watching it. I felt suffocated and wanted to leave the room.

Obviously there are still scars and baggage that I need to work through. While I rely on the Lord to help me through my challenges, I need others to support me, too. Lucy Mack Smith said, "We must cherish one another, watch over one another, comfort one another, and gain instruction that we may all sit down in heaven together."

I really do believe that by enduring the difficult situations we are bound to find ourselves in, with faith and hope, we will be friends in Heaven, no matter the distance that may come between us in this life. This is a gift that was made possible by our Savior Jesus Christ. He loved us so much that He gave His life for us. He loves us so much that He died for each one of us. And He lives so that we can live with Him again, and all those we love. That's how we should love each other, willing to sacrifice all we have.

We've been talking about the two great commandments at church and institute lately. It's been bothering me that people just say it is to love God and others. We are commanded to love ourselves, too, as we love our neighbor. I thought I had to endure a loveless marriage to an atheist, but that's not what the Lord had in mind for me. I gave up my life for Him. The life I thought I wanted. I gave it up to follow the Lords plan for me. He knows me better than I know myself. He knows what I need. He knows how to love me and how I need to love others.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland gave an amazing talk about just that, How Do I Love Thee? It talks about how we can love fully, selflessly, and with kindness. In short, it is about having charity, which is the pure love of Christ.

But actually watch that one, it's less than 3 minutes...

I used this video to pacify my frustrated children this morning on the way to school. It worked. Of course it worked. It brought the love of Christ into our car. But it also softened my heart. I was holding on to anger because someone I thought was one of my best friends has recently cut me out of his life. It seems he has gone out of his way to avoid me and has changed his behavior and surprised me by his lack of compassion toward me. I was determined to embrace our disconnect, to show him I don't need his friendship as much as he doesn't want mine.

But that is not Christlike.

This video made me ask myself, how can I show my friend that I am and will be his friend? Things changed because of my actions. But I acted because the Lord directed me, thus, it is the Lords will. I have rethought my determination and have decided to exercise charity. I hope we can regain our friendship, nevertheless, I will endure whatever outcome with compassion.

Ecstasy

I had the opportunity to have a discussion with a few friends and the missionaries last night. We decided to read a chapter in the Book of Mormon. Through this experience I was able to feel the Lord's love and awareness for me. 

This week has been really hard. I've been sad and disappointed, and have had worries on my mind that were specifically addressed in the the words of the scriptures and by the Spirit in the room. Feelings of comfort and peace came to my heart, which enabled me to actually get some sleep last night!

One of the verses we stopped to discuss was Moroni 7:19, which says, "that ye should search diligently in the light of Christ that ye may know good from evil; and if ye will lay hold upon every good thing, and condemn it not, ye certainly will be a child of Christ."

One of the sisters stopped us and asked, "What does it look like to search diligently in the light of Christ?" I understood where the emphasis was in her question, but I shared my answer with the emphasis on Christ. We all have questions, or have had, or will have, and therefore, we all will experience what it is to search for answers. My point is that it matters where we look.

We can't find light if we're looking in darkness.

When Austin lost his testimony -- or rather, when he put it down, since it was a choice he made. He didn't misplace it or have it stolen, but he decided that he didn't want to hold on to it any longer -- he searched for answers in new and different places. One of these was a youtube channel by an atheist who interviewed people he met on the street, of any faith, about what they believed. When Austin would show me some of these episodes I felt that the host was trying to plant doubt in their minds. Whether it was a woman who felt God's love when a bird would come, or a man who understood that there's a higher power or force in the universe, or even those who believe in multiple gods. 

To me, these all testify of God. That there is a God. Other religions or people understand or interpret it differently because they may not know what to call it. I think of the Articles of Faith. 1 We believe in God, the Eternal Father, and in His Son, Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost. I trust the Lord and believe in Him. I am constantly turning to Him for answers. Austin, however, turned to an atheist for answers. While he considered other beliefs, like becoming Buddhist, in the end, he settled on being atheist. Which is the source he turned to for answers. 

In times of darkness, I turned to God. I turned to the light of Christ. I never stopped praying for help and answers. And I continued to search the scriptures. When Austin would share the anti-mormon or atheist stuff with me, I could feel a darkness creep in. It was like he would leave a wake of shadows behind him. I could even see a difference in his countenance. There was no longer light in his eyes, but then, that had left the moment he turned off the light switch of belief.

I remember coming home from work. Tensions were high, and I felt nervous going home. As I would open the door and walk inside, the very air felt heavy. It was like going into a battle ground, having to trudge through spiritual debris. I never knew what I was going to get, if it was more information about why the church must not be true or if it was contempt because I got home just before the girls were asleep. In which case, they were always excited I was home and wanted to hug me. This would make him so mad. I think he was jealous because they were never as excited when he came home. Sometimes I would try to sneak in and be super quiet so none of them would know I was there. But it broke my heart because all I wanted to do was hold my little angels and be welcomed home.

Every day he would drop shadows around me by telling me the things he learned on the internet.
"Oh, did you hear about... well, you probably don't want me to tell you this..."
"What?" I'd say, helplessly. Trying to keep conversation with my husband open, but not really wanting to discuss what he found.

He'd then tell me about a scandal by a mission president or an ex-mormon who used to be a stake president. He would try to convince me the church wasn't true by telling me about all kinds of things from gay right issues to how he thinks tithing is done wrong. There was always something to complain about. There was always hate to spread. None of this convinced me the gospel wasn't true. It did show me that people can make bad choices. Even people who seem infallible can make mistakes. I can recognize that nobody's perfect and that we're all human. I believe that God's ways and understandings are higher than mine and that I don't have all the answers to the questions posed, but God does, and I trust Him.

Isaiah 55
8 For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord.
9 For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.

There's a sculpture by one of my favorite artists, Bernini, called The Ecstasy of Saint Teresa. It's beautiful with delicate features. When I learned about it in my art history class with Brother Gough I was impressed with how powerfully it conveys emotion. The word ecstasy means to experience both pleasure and pain simultaneously.

The sculpture depicts a vision St. Teresa had and recorded in an autobiography. She says an angel appeared and was holding a golden spear with glowing fire at the end of it. He then thrust the spear into her heart, causing excruciating pain, but upon removal there is left a great love of God. She said that the sweetness of that love couldn't allow her to wish the pain away. Because the pain was now spiritual. 

What pain do we go through to know God better? To feel His love for us? Surely, we are not pierced in the heart repeatedly with a red hot spear, but we may be pierced in the heart in other ways, leaving a burning in us to do the Lords will. 

I have been feeling a pain in my heart this week. But I know it is in part because I followed the Lord's commands, and therefore, I feel great joy and I wouldn't change that. It's my own personal ecstasy. I want the Lord to know He can count on me no matter how hard it is for me. Because anything worth having or doing doesn't come easily. It comes with hard work. Tears. Sweat. Courage. Prayer. Trust. And help from the one who loves us most, our Father in Heaven.

Following the Lords Commands

I have had some things pressing on my mind for some time now. I feel like the Lord has told me to do specific things that will have positive repercussions and great impact. I feel an urgency in doing, and obeying. But it is also really hard because it involves being incredibly vulnerable.

One of these tasks is to write down my story. Back in November I attended Time Out For Women and received powerful and undeniable revelation. I could feel the Lord physically touching my head and I could hear Him telling me what I had to do. I have been writing impressions and things down ever since then. Actually even before then. But I need to write it into a book and I don't know how to do that. I like writing my blog, and feel I have found my voice in this platform, but a book intimidates me. I do feel like that's what I need to do, though, so that I can share my story with others who need it!

I tend to think and feel deeply. I like sharing my thoughts and am glad to have learned to keep a blog in a BFA class with Cassandra Barney. In college, I would share my testimony and make comments at church often. I never fully formed what I would say before I raised my hand, however, which usually resulted with me ended with the word "so..." and a shrug, implying, "so... you can connect my comment to the lesson." Which is why I now usually text myself my comments and then sometimes make a blog post out of them.

Another task the Lord wants from me is even harder. It has more potential to hurt me. It effects my future as opposed to dealing with my past. It doesn't make sense to me why it's so important to the Lord that I do it, since it's only going to effect one or two people. I want to do it, but fear gets in the way. And then guilt when I don't.

Monday night I had a dream. It was significant and I have written it down in a private journal so I can remember it. I also told Becky about it on Tuesday morning and expressed to her that I thought it was revelation from the Lord, addressing my concerns and answering my prayers. Later I opened an email from Deseret Book which was promoting a book called Dreams as Revelation. This further confirmed my interpretation of my dream. And I recognized it as a tender mercy, even an email from my Heavenly Father.

I attended the temple three days in a row this week and it was wonderful!

I wanted to go on Tuesday morning because that is the first time it was open since last weekend when I didn't get to go. So I did the 7AM session on Tuesday morning. I love starting the week in this way. The peace I felt about how I feel and how I need to move forward was reassuring and comforting.

Wednesday evening my ward had a temple trip that I also went to. I love the spirit there and wouldn't turn down an opportunity to be there. This time, however, was a little more emotionally difficult. My heart hurt a little as I watched the witness couple and the prayer. It made me think about the good man I married. Sometimes I miss him. It hits me sometimes in the temple. We used to be asked to be the couple, and it is a special thing. I miss participating as much as I used to be able to. I miss sitting next to someone and quietly discussing the impressions we each received. Still, I did receive impressions and learned a little more about the Lord and His plan.

Then, on Thursday, as I was enjoying my time with my children, Heidi told me she was having a rough day (one thing after another, her burdens seem to be piling up!) and would be going to the temple to do Initiatories. I asked if she wanted me to join her, and she said yes. When we met up I asked her how she was feeling. She said, "Pretty good, but I hurt my shoulder trying to open a jar of salsa." I couldn't help but laugh. It was too funny of a thought. She laughed, too. We had a lovely time. For the third day in a row, I felt confirmation, while in the temple, that I need to proceed with the command the Lord has given me. Notice I didn't say how. I still don't know how I am to proceed.

Last Sunday a sister gave a talk in church and told a story about how she had to move away from her friends, but she told them she would write them letters. So she wrote a letter to a certain friend telling her all the things she loves about her. The letter sat on her desk for three days and she saw it before getting in bed but thought, "oh, I need to get that out, I'll put it in the mailbox tomorrow morning." But then, recognizing that she would forget by then, she did it right away. Three days later she got a call from this friend telling her she just got her letter. She expressed gratitude for it and told her she was about to end her life but had the thought to check her mail before. One, seemingly small and insignificant act, made a huge difference and impact in the life of another. A week before this talk I wrote a similar letter, never intending to actually send it. It made me think of one of the tasks the Lord has asked of me.

Never suppress a generous thought.

I have tried to live my life by this phrase by Camilla Kimball. Whether it was calling my cousin while walking on campus, sending an encouraging text message to my friend before an important meeting, or complimenting a strangers earrings. You never know what someone else is going through or how your words or actions can effect them.

All of these things were coming at me, pointing me in the same direction. But I still can't see why it's so important or why the Lord cares this much.

I was listening to conference talks as I was setting up my classroom on Saturday. I had the impression I needed to reach out to one of my friends. I was like, okay, but what can I do for her? My mom happened to have a wedding that day (she's a florist), and was sure to have some leftover flowers. So I texted her to ask if I could use some (and so I wouldn't forget by the time I left work). I messaged my friend, asking how her day was going in specific terms. She replied a while later, but by that time I was busy with other plans, so I told her I had something for her, and asked if I could bring it to her the next morning. She said that would be perfect.

My other plans were to play Super Mario Bros with Heidi and David. Heidi was in even more pain at this point and asked David for a blessing. He was willing and able at a moments notice. Which is actually an extraordinary quality that we take for granted in our culture. Another brother came to help and I was grateful to have access to the priesthood power.

Last night Henry Ammar gave a fireside. He's truly an amazing human being. It's like he is running around in a giant hamster ball made of the Spirit, bumping into people sharing light and knowledge as he goes along. I admire him greatly and am grateful to know him. Throughout his talk I felt the Lord speaking to me, directing me in a clear way. Henry basically quoted thoughts I have had and things I have read over the past month and I was shaking from the inside out during his talk. When he finished, he said, "Always follow the Spirit." And it hit me to the core. I told the Lord at that time that I would do it at my next opportunity.

I wanted to talk with Henry after the fireside, but I couldn't stay. The spirit was telling me to run to my car and go! I obeyed. I didn't actually know where I was going. The urgent feeling was resolved when I got to my destination. I was confronted with the adversary, and I thought, "I can't do it with this obstacle, it's too hard." But then I realized, it's not about me. The Lord needs me to follow through no matter what. And I must obey. I don't know if it is because it will save a life, or if it will make me happy, or if it is just to see if I will obey all the Lord asks of me. I just know I have to do it.

So...

"You are Alone"

"You are alone" Satan tells me this all the time.

I feel like this is where satan hits me the hardest. I actually don't remember hearing this when I was going through my lowest point. When I was married to someone who had been my best friend, but had become as distant as a stranger. After he told me he didn't have a testimony any more and to not hope for him I fell into a depression. I felt alone, and knew that I was. Austin had his exmo (ex-mormon) community on reddit that he could talk to about what he was feeling and experiencing. He no longer needed or wanted me or God. I had no one.

There wasn't an exmoso (ex-mormon significant others) group on reddit, trust me, I checked. I almost started one myself, but didn't know how to find the other group members. I didn't know anyone else who was going through what I was going through and it was SO HARD. I was suffering silently. I could relate to the widows in the ward, but didn't look like one from the outside. I couldn't talk to anyone about what I was going through. I felt more alone than I ever had. I felt like one of P.T. Barnums 'freaks'. I would say things that one friend finally picked up on and she pried her way in to my secretly dark life. I will forever be grateful for her!



Soon enough I was able to get divorced and the massive burden was lifted from my exhausted and aching shoulders. I was now allowed to speak about what I had gone through, or at least some of it. I still haven't shared everything, even with my closest person (Becky).

I finally felt free and light again.

The first time I recognized hearing satan's lie, "you are alone" was during Henry Ammars talk, back in February, when I was sitting with my friends. But it has happened since then, too. In fact, it happened as recently as two days ago. I was sitting in a room filled with my friends watching a movie. I felt a shrinking feeling and thought, "I'm alone." I couldn't take it any longer and had to leave the room. I had only had maybe two hours of sleep the night before because my mind wouldn't shut off. I was thinking about a boy I have feelings for, I was thinking about a show I watch with my best friend, I was thinking about work. I actually got up to draw some pictures and create a couple handouts for a class I hate teaching. And now it's causing me to lose sleep?! I wont be teaching this class again.

Anyway, my point is that I was severely sleep deprived and over-worked. My mind was weak and it believed the lie this time. So I left the room to cry in the bathroom. Once I was able to compose myself I returned and finished watching the movie, but when I left the activity I had another breakdown in my car and realized something. I am mourning a breakup that hasn't happened yet. While crying on the phone to my sister, she assured me that my feelings are valid, told me to go home, listen to a meditation track, and get some sleep. It worked. I was able to sleep and get to work on time the next morning.

While I enjoy my Saturday classes, I was looking forward to getting done with work so I could go to the temple! For some much needed spiritual rest. This week has been a draining one and I kept thinking, "Get to the temple!" Because I don't have my kids on Friday or Saturday, I will usually go to the temple, unless I have a date, an appointment, or an activity. So it was my plan all week to go on Saturday afternoon.

Unfortunately, I was experiencing dizzy spells all day. While teaching my first class (sitting down), my second class (standing and teaching about knife safety), on the way home (driving), and I even fell against my wall when I was walking to my bedroom. I thought to myself, I need to lay down for a minute before I can go to the temple. But the room didn't stop moving and I realized something was wrong. That I was not okay. I felt serious vertigo even while laying down, and couldn't turn my head without everything sloshing around me. I did get a blessing. I didn't get to go to the temple because I wasn't able to drive myself there. And even if someone had taken me, I might have passed out while there. So I had to rest. And I was angry about it.


I have learned I MUST take care of myself. This means I need to get enough sleep, attend the temple regularly, drink enough water, exercise regularly, and fill my mind with good. And sometimes I have to adjust my plan to the Lord's plan for me.

When I finally stopped feeling so dizzy I was able to go to a swim party I had mixed feelings about. I had been looking forward to it for the most part, but I also wanted to stay home and be alone and not see anyone, especially the person I wanted to see most. I know it doesn't make sense.



In the end, I had a wonderful time. And I'm glad I went.

My daughter will draw cute pictures and then sometimes she adds wind to it. Which means scribbling all over it with the same pen she used to draw the good stuff. It makes me wonder about how we lose ourselves in the storms of our lives.

If I hadn't pushed through the dark feelings I wouldn't have gotten to enjoy the light and realize that
I AM NOT ALONE! and neither are you.