Not all Who Wander are Lost

It's that time again.  It's been several months since I've been raw and vulnerable in the public online world.  It's hard, and it's refreshing.  It means everyone knows everything and no one has to beat around the bush trying to get the inside scoop on Shannon and I get to avoid awkward conversations.  Deep breath...

During the last session of the LDS General Conference I was in the room for this talk.  It stirred a lot of mixed emotions in me.  Many of you most likely know that I no longer consider myself a member of the LDS faith though I've chosen to leave my name on the records of the Church out of respect for my husband, knowing how a request to have my name removed would effect him.  I share this so that you may know I am one of the wandering sheep referred to in this talk.

Wow.  I appreciated and bristled at this talk for so many reasons, many of them one and the same.   I appreciated a general authority telling active members of the church to be loving and inclusive of those who choose to leave the church.  I hated being reminded that many people who choose to leave are ostracized by their families because they don't know how to show love to someone they believe is living in sin.  I also cringed as he detailed how nice and inclusive they all were to his sister for reasons I can't quite express.  Perhaps I felt he was describing these things to pat himself on the back, as if to say "I know its hard to love those who choose to leave the fold, but LOOK I managed to be kind to a sinner and so can you."  Perhaps it was the influx of emails, Facebook messages, etc, from people I haven't associated with in years just wanting to say hi, knowing good and well that they were writing to me because of this conference talk. I'm sure they were all coming from a well intentioned place, but it hurts to feel like people are only reaching out because they want to "be good missionaries,"  and can then check off "talk to the lost sheep" from their To-Do list.

All this being so, I was grateful that those less lucky than I, who have had a fence erected against them because they choose to wander and explore, have someone speaking out in their favor; admonishing their loved ones to still include them.  Because we darn well should be included! Our faith should have nothing to do with whether or not we are invited to important family gatherings, or whether or not we can still be friends.  Just because I'm not sure there even is a God, and am pretty confident the LDS church is not the one true church (for reasons I prefer to keep private unless you wish to ask me about them with an open and loving mind, with no intention of trying to argue why I'm wrong) doesn't mean that we can't enjoy every other aspect of a fulfilling relationship that we enjoyed when I considered myself a part of your fold.  Thank-you Elder Nielson for making that clear, it was very much needed and it made it easier for me to live with the underlying implications of your talk.

Implying that we, the wandering sheep, are lost, living in miserable darkness, makes me feel as though you don't really understand us "lost sheep."  I feel as though you don't really care about my experience; so long as everyone is nice to my face, it's ok to go around talking to each other about how lost I am and device plans to draw me back to your way of thinking.  When you generalize Susan's experiences to be unanimously true for me too, I feel incredibly invalidated.  I feel like I then can't express how heavily I'm struggling with depression to my active member friends and family because they will think it's because I no longer have the spirit in my life, not that it could very well be because depression is something I've struggled with since I was fifteen (and still very much a good mormon girl), or that I just had yet another miscarriage, or that I'm living my life in limbo at the moment and I HATE limbo.  Nope, I clearly must be depressed because I no longer have the light of Christ in my life.

  I know this is what people think because this is what every General Conference talk about the "lost sheep" implies (or directly states) and because thats exactly what I used to think myself.  With every wave of depression I experienced, my go to was always to throw myself in to the church even more because thats what I had been taught to do all my life.  So long as I believe in Christ, say my prayers, read my scriptures, go to church, spread the gospel, etc, I WILL be happy.  So when happiness was not a part of my life I would begin obsessive scripture study and start preaching to my friends about how awesome the Book of Mormon is.  Sadly, it never worked.  The wave of depression would usually be chased away by the summer sun, NOT by scripture study.  Yes, some people when they leave the church go off the deep end, they turn to drugs and other dangerous things to find happiness.  These same people, and others who have never been a part of the church are able to finally leave such things behind because they find the church and make it a part of their lives.  Some people may not have been living "Crazy sinful lives" but still found deeper meaning to life in returning to active membership. Yay, this is fantastic!  But please, don't turn it around and use it to say that without the church we are all lost and unhappy, or that the LDS church is a good thing for everyone, because it's not.

Various aspects of the church often made my depression worse, various teachings of the church often went against what my own heart and personal conscience were telling me was/is right.  To many people feel trapped because they have to choose between a life of lonely celibacy within the church, barred from certain callings because of their sexual orientation, and living a life outside of the church, potentially ostracized from their loved friends and family.  There are many more stories out there.  Many people who have struggled through infinitely harder things than I and found that leaving the church was the only way for them to fully breathe.  While countless people have only known happiness within the church, there are countless people who have only known happiness by having the courage to stand up and say "this church is not right for me" and then do their best to gracefully walk away.

Please, don't minimize our experiences.  Don't assume we've left out of laziness or because someone in the ward, or an apostle in general conference offended us.  The truth is, many of us know leaving the church will be a hard, often lonely path.  We know leaving the church means being the child wept over in prayer, the one talked about in stake conference, the one the home teachers make an extra effort to "bring back," and always being thought of as the "lost" despite feeling more found than we ever have before.  We know leaving the church means letting go of one rod and having to scramble to find a new place to plant our feet.  Leaving the church is pretty damn scary and HARD.  Most all of us would give anything to be happy in the church because staying in the church is EASY., at least when compared to the alternative.  It's so much easier to keep doing and believing what I've believed all my life: what everyone near and dear to me believes and does. Stop telling me I'm choosing the easy road by leaving.  It was NOT easy.

It's not easy knowing my husband fears he'll live in an afterlife without me, but chooses to make the best of this life all the same.  It's not easy knowing my family talks about the lack of "spirit" in the house I work so hard to make a home.  It's not easy learning to be ok with this life possibly being the only life I have; wrapping my mind around the finality of death.  It's not easy being told by family exactly why they feel I don't belong at a sibling's wedding, and then missing the actual wedding all together because I'm not allowed in. It's not easy trying to find a NEW reason for this life.  It's not easy finding myself in a world where everything I've ever been raised to believe feels hallow and empty and having to find something new to burn the fire within.  I would happily believe that there is a magical afterlife where everything is ok because Jesus died for our sins, I really would if I could.  Please have the courtesy to believe me when I say I have truly tried, and then honor my journey and my current life experiences.  I don't think any less of people who choose to be a part of the LDS church, I don't belittle your experiences and I try very hard not to belittle your beliefs even when I truly believe you are wrong (as I'm sure you often feel about me). So please, do me the same courtesy.  All our experiences are valid.  Lets honor each and every journey we are all on and enjoy the adventure that is life.

I have left the fold, and I am wandering, but as J.R.R. Tolkien so wisely put "Not all who wander are lost."

Focus on breathing

A few days ago a friend shared THIS blog post. The jist of it is that her number one piece of parenting advice is "Don't kill the baby."  I'm not going to lie, my first year of motherhood was easy. I slid in to motherhood like it was MADE for me.   I enjoyed every minute of it.  I missed having some purpose outside of the house but still thoroughly enjoyed my life IN the home.  I was ready to have another baby almost instantly. Around the time little Tali was 18 months I preceded to have one miscarriage after another. A year and a half later I've grieved a LOT and found my self in a space where I'm not even sure I want the child I have at times, let alone another.  I still feel an unbelievable amount of pain over my miscarriages, my second one most of all, I also harbor a large amount of guilt for thanking the universe every day that I only have one kid to tend too.   Brenan tells me I focus to much on the negative and not enough on the positive. He's probably right. But it's hard to see the positive when each day feels as though I'm trapped in a cage submerged in icy water and escape  is no where to be found. When simply getting out of bed in the morning is only the begining of a waterfall of extremely hard things you will do that day (such as; not screaming at the child that you'll come when you're done cleaning up the cereal they accidentally spilled all over the entire house, resisting the urge to lock the child in the bedroom for 6 hours so that you can lay with a pillow over your head and breath in silence, not punching your child in the face when they inadvertently cause you a surprising amount of physical pain for the 7th time in one hour, and miraculously managing to remain calm while explaining to said child for the tenth time that they can NOT shove sticks in to the power outlets even if she does need to hang her necklace on it), it's understandable that even the gooey kisses bring a delayed and painful smile to my face.  Lace all of this with mild depression and it will become damn near impossible to look on the bright side, even when I'm more naturally a "bright-side" kind of person.



That blog was a breath of fresh air because it came from a mother who "gets" it.   She stood up and admitted that no matter how Pinterest perfect your life is (or isn't) the best accomplishment you can have as a parent is and always will be that you kept that child and YOURSELF alive!  Sometimes that's all you can manage. Sometimes you need to hide in a dark closet while your kid wanders the house calling your name and just BREATHE for an hour and hope nothing bad happens while pretending to not exist.


"Sometimes all you can do is stand and breathe"

My very being is glued to the floor.  

The three year old pulls at my arm

How long have I been laying here?

"Mom mom mom mom mom come on mom"

Not long enough.  I close my eyes tighter.

Maybe it will think I'm dead and move on.

"Mom! Mom! Get up mom! Lemme show you!"

I try to visualize standing. 

Standing. How does one do that?

I stretch my hands wide and wiggle my fingers.

They work. I shouldn't be surprised that they work.

"Mom, mom, mom why you laying there mom?"

My lids flutter open.  There's a smiling chocolate covered face hanging over me

I choke back the scream trying to claw its way out of my throat

Breath. Focus on sitting up. Breath. You can do this.

"MOM! I'm waiting mom! Put your shoes on mom!"

Sitting is easy, breath, count to three, stand

That wasn't hard, I can move, my body works

"Yaaaaaay! Le'me show you now mom"

My fingers are yanked and my body follows

One foot, then the other.

Breath in. 

Breath Out.