HF - ARE YOU REALLY THERE?

I was listening to a podcast on apostasy the other day at work, it was odd. As the comments were made and apostasy defined, much like the "aha" moment of the defining of a cult I realized, by definition, I am an "apostate". I am one who once believed something or held to an ascribed set of religious values who no longer believes. Yup, full on apostate. Yikes.

So, what am I on about?

What brought me here, what took me to a place where my heart could open up and I could come to terms with all that didn't make sense for me, and then it walk away and more importantly, does it even matter?

I think not, at least for me anyway.

I spent a huge amount of my life dedicated to a faith I thought had my back. It didn't strike me that there were so many hoops and conditions to acceptance and that the club was all about "who you knew" and not who you are. In the end, I felt like I was living through an episode of mean girls or in this case we could call it mean High Priests. And in the very same way some are so grateful for the end of their high school experiences because it felt like torture, I to am so very glad my church experiences are over.

So Parkland ward - let me tell you why your actions after I left really for me sealed the deal.

I can do that by telling of an instance that happened.

About 6 months ago, during one of only about 3 times when members of the ward officially reached out to me, the following happened. (You'd think I would have mattered more to the ward but I learned soon enough that what I thought about how they felt was soon proven by their actions.) Anyway, back to the story. W and I had a busy morning gardening and getting the tomatoes ready for harvesting, W had slipped out and there was a knock on the door. It was the sister missionaries. I was polite and respectful and asked them a simple question; "who sent you?" She asked if it mattered; I said it did. She asked why?

I then preceded to ask her that the next time she was at the missionary meeting to ask each person there if they had ever been a guest in my home? Had they ever partaken of a dinner, a lunch, an evening by the pool, if at anytime had I ever feed them, given them refuge or welcomed them into my home? Could I have ever been called a "friend"? I said that it would be my guess that virtually everyone sitting there would answer "yes". I then asked why this ward would then send a complete stranger to ask me back. She had no answer. How could she? I thanked her for her concern but reminded her that people leave the church for many reasons, some illogical, some emotional and some are absolutely necessary and for a few of us, all three reasons applied.

I have faced my demons, the struggle for me wasn't easy and though there are some that may disagree, I have conquered them.

When I ask, HF - are you really there, HE IS!

I have faith, conviction and hope. I love all that is belief and still have a strong and abiding faith in GOD not a church. It just doesn't have conditions. There are no "ONLY Trues" in it and no referencing happiness as having been a result of a membership but rather a universal truth that resides within me. I found happiness along the way and soon realized that the bumps in the road aren't punishments or tests but life, pure and simple. It sucks sometimes but real people are always there waiting to put out a hand to you. These real people don't have prerequisites to caring, they aren't assigned friends like visiting teachers or home teachers, they just do it because.

If I sound pissed, I am sorry. I am not. I went from a congregation of assigned "friends" to very few but whose left standing are real. I am so grateful for that.

So I was surprised when the other day, I went for dinner with 3 of the woman I went to Laurel class with over 35 years ago. As we were reminiscing and I was listening I was in awe of these great woman. First, there was no judgment of me, they were never the type in the first place, and second; living had taken a toll. Three divorces, one widow, children, grandchildren, jobs, loss of parents. Life stories full of tragedy and hope and compassion. A lot of living had passed under life's bridge.

No one asked them to include me, they just did because membership in a church wasn't a requirement.

These are the kind of members that help me to understand that though I am an "apostate", I am not an "Anti-Mormon", contra to what my BW is saying. These woman help to make it less about what's wrong and more about what was right. There are not the SP's wife, the B's wife or the auxiliary president, they are simple, good and faithful people. I felt safe and unjudged. I took a chance because I wasn't sure it would be like that. It was, why did I ever doubt it would have been any other way?

So, though at times it is hard to realize you weren't even worth the effort of a Bishop showing up at your door to see where you have been there will always be good people in and amongst those who have hurt you in the church. When I remember that, it becomes less about the anger and more about a journey that helped to make me who I am today.

As much as you can take yourself out of the church, 50 years of living it just doesn't erase itself. HF is there, he always was and always will be, I just see Him a bit differently now.