I always had an interest in religions. My interest in Hinduism began mostly by looking at the strange pictures in the Krishna Books that my brother picked up in college. When I attended BYU I routinely listened to the Krishna station there while sometimes finding humor in the presentation. I didn't act much upon my interest during the 90's as my wife and I were busy becoming established and doing our callings in the church. At some point I became interested in Patristics, or the study of the Early Church Fathers of Christianity. I'm not exactly sure what sparked it. I remember a site created by a fellow LDS author that attempted to connect LDS teachings with the ECF. I distinctly remember downloading the Pre-Nicean documents and storing it on a floppy disk. I also started to look at LDS history. One of the things I remember was finding the text of the Nauvoo Expositor, the newspaper whose destruction eventually landed Joseph Smith in jail. While I hadn't put any analytic energy towards the incident, I remember thinking that there wasn't anything in the Expositor that was untruthful. It must have been that JS didn't want that information out in public. At the time, I couldn't see JS's actions as covering up any sins or misdeeds. I was still enamored of his teachings.
There is a saying in LDS apologetics as "putting things on the shelf". Those are the issues that come up while studying that we can't find a good answer to, or are challenging to one's belief. You "put it on the shelf" hoping that some time later there will be an answer or explanation. I had just started building my shelf. The Expositor and Joseph's reaction were the first issues I distinctly remember setting aside to tackle later.
All this time, I always considered that it was my fault that I didn't enjoy the services of the church. I always put the pressure on myself for these things. The temple wasn't exactly the most spiritual experience for me, and I just didn't understand the underlying ideas. I figured more experience would teach me these things. Indeed, I started to develop some intricate ideas, assuming that these things came from God. Apologetics seemed to help some of my questions.
The more I studied, the more I came to terms with the difficulties that religion posed. The problem of Evil, injustice, the nature of sin, the meaning of inspiration. I tried to understand it all, to make sense of those things that just didn't want to mesh with reality. In many ways, I have always been a humanist or fatalist. I just didn't think that God interacted with humanity all that much. The fingerprints just weren't there. But here I was a member of a church that teaches that God is involved intricately with people's lives. I had some huge issues to try and answer. The shelf kept getting more populated. My studies of other religions helped me see the humanity underlying it all. I started thinking that mankind can convince itself of whatever it wants to. I still didn't see that I was convinced of something that just wasn't true, but I think I was firmly transitioning to Fowler's Stages of Faith stage 3 to stage 4. If you even start to ask questions, you are moving into stage 4.
I started getting more involved with LDS Apologetics. I even found out of my first child's adoption while attending the first conference of FAIR in Utah. I was just starting to get involved in other message boards where I interfaced with members of other faiths. My most active was at Christians Online and I developed some friendships there. I was still firmly LDS, but I was beginning to see the wisdom and points of view of others. I was very devoted at this time to learning as much as I could as my questions were becoming more complex, more informed.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
4. Time Stand Still
I did pray about it. I had a dream and I was explicitly told to "Stay". So I did. I didn't like that answer. However, if it was from God, then so be it. If it wasn't, so be it. I really didn't have a whole lot of will power at that point to have a discussion with myself on the matter.
I set some rules for myself. I needed to be true to myself. I didn't believe that rule X or Y made any sense, so as far as I was concerned, they didn't matter and I wasn't going to sweat over it. If I caused a fuss, then send me home. I didn't care. I needed to get out of whatever hole I was in and that was that. I had a companion at that time that more than helped and could see how desperate I was for any kind of normalcy.
I was eventually transferred to Catskill, NY. It wasn't hell, but you could've seen it from there. I personally became better and had a good companion. The branch was horrible but we had some people that tolerated us. It was a beautiful area. I wished I could have enjoyed it more. I only gave away one Book of Mormon there. She wanted to give it back, but we wouldn't let her. They closed the area after they transferred us out.
Danbury, CT. It was fantastic. My comp was wonderful and I truly enjoyed my time there. I met some great people and for once in the past year and a half, I felt like a person again. I had my only baptism there. I don't think he understood what was going on, but we did get a wonderful party out of it. My last month I was sent to Derby. Nothing of note. My mind was already home. BYU had re-accepted me and I was going back to reclaim the person that was me.
Dating was treacherous. It was a minefield that I didn't recall, but it was probably because I was now a Return Missionary (RM). Some of these girls were in it to win. I did meet "the girl" and she had married. She worked in the bookstore, and I steadfastly avoided the bookstore. It hurt to know what kind of a person I was just a year earlier. I was ashamed of myself and I just wanted to hide from it all. I was faithful through all of this. One of my closest friends, when I told him of just a few of the things I felt, was surprised that I was still a member of the church, that most would have left after all that. I looked at him incredulously and responded, "I love the Lord."
I met a girl in German and in our second semester together, I built up enough nerve to ask her out. I was already dating regularly and often, but this girl was different. After a few weeks of pulling out all the stops, I decided to quit trying with her, as another girl I was dating seemed genuinely interested in me. That weekend, the girl I tried so hard to have notice me brought me cookies. Things moved quickly and before I was even home a full year, I was married.
I can't recall too many spiritual bumps in the road. My wife and I carried on as many other good mormon couples. I still struggled through meetings. I was hard pressed to find good religious reading material as most LDS authors left me desiring more...something. We had moved to Chicago. We were temple workers, presidents, clerks, teachers. We were good LDS people. Then, the internet happened. Information was streaming into our lives. Mine wouldn't be the same.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oUVJ9_8NyXY
I set some rules for myself. I needed to be true to myself. I didn't believe that rule X or Y made any sense, so as far as I was concerned, they didn't matter and I wasn't going to sweat over it. If I caused a fuss, then send me home. I didn't care. I needed to get out of whatever hole I was in and that was that. I had a companion at that time that more than helped and could see how desperate I was for any kind of normalcy.
I was eventually transferred to Catskill, NY. It wasn't hell, but you could've seen it from there. I personally became better and had a good companion. The branch was horrible but we had some people that tolerated us. It was a beautiful area. I wished I could have enjoyed it more. I only gave away one Book of Mormon there. She wanted to give it back, but we wouldn't let her. They closed the area after they transferred us out.
Danbury, CT. It was fantastic. My comp was wonderful and I truly enjoyed my time there. I met some great people and for once in the past year and a half, I felt like a person again. I had my only baptism there. I don't think he understood what was going on, but we did get a wonderful party out of it. My last month I was sent to Derby. Nothing of note. My mind was already home. BYU had re-accepted me and I was going back to reclaim the person that was me.
Dating was treacherous. It was a minefield that I didn't recall, but it was probably because I was now a Return Missionary (RM). Some of these girls were in it to win. I did meet "the girl" and she had married. She worked in the bookstore, and I steadfastly avoided the bookstore. It hurt to know what kind of a person I was just a year earlier. I was ashamed of myself and I just wanted to hide from it all. I was faithful through all of this. One of my closest friends, when I told him of just a few of the things I felt, was surprised that I was still a member of the church, that most would have left after all that. I looked at him incredulously and responded, "I love the Lord."
I met a girl in German and in our second semester together, I built up enough nerve to ask her out. I was already dating regularly and often, but this girl was different. After a few weeks of pulling out all the stops, I decided to quit trying with her, as another girl I was dating seemed genuinely interested in me. That weekend, the girl I tried so hard to have notice me brought me cookies. Things moved quickly and before I was even home a full year, I was married.
I can't recall too many spiritual bumps in the road. My wife and I carried on as many other good mormon couples. I still struggled through meetings. I was hard pressed to find good religious reading material as most LDS authors left me desiring more...something. We had moved to Chicago. We were temple workers, presidents, clerks, teachers. We were good LDS people. Then, the internet happened. Information was streaming into our lives. Mine wouldn't be the same.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oUVJ9_8NyXY
Monday, August 13, 2012
3. If We Burn Our Wings, Flying Too Close To The Sun...
As I settled into church, I became the teen with the most steady attendance. It was just a matter of determining what was more important to me, and my discomfort with the services and some of the teachings were negligible compared to having my life back, and the trust of my parents. Socially, the ward wasn't big enough to really provide a teen boy all the opportunities he might like. The girls that attended were a bit on the weird side, with parents that were too attentive. Occasionally I would strike up conversations with girls from the arts school nearby but that wasn't all that often. I didn't go to church for the social aspects. I went to learn. I also was the one always on the stand to bless the sacrament. I became a believer. I did flirt with some hindu books that my brother had every once in a while, but overall, I was a mormon.
My last year of high school was nothing too interesting. I went on my first dates after I graduated. I wasn't very good at it. Still, no harm in trying.
My choice of college was more important. I chose to go to Brigham Young University, mostly for the opportunity to go west, and to have a college experience without the distractions my brother had when he went to Central. I wanted to go to school. I wanted to learn. I decided on electrical engineering because it was hard, and I was curious about how radios and computers worked. I had worked with computers for a little bit, even bought one that my parents didn't know about. It was one of those first $99 ones. I wrote a few programs for it. I didn't know what else to expect out there. I didn't relish the idea of a whole school filled with over-protected kids like the ones I knew from my home ward. Still, it was a big enough school so maybe I could slip in-between the cracks.
This isn't a blog about my first two years of school. Let me just say, that aside for some bumps on the road and a lot of exasperation, it wasn't too bad. I didn't feel smart anymore. My first semester crushed me. I did have a lot of fun though. I was still a geek, not overly social, but I was in my element. I completely enjoyed school. I never chaffed at the rules, because I lived the way I did, I never came into conflict with anything.
My second year....my second year was epic. I met a girl that I knew from my first year and while I can't remember it well, I do know that I asked her roommate out. I fell in love. She was fiercely independent, nothing like any other girls I had met there before....hmmm.... But I digress, I was at a point now where I had to make a decision, or perhaps I had already made it, on whether to go on a mission. I decided to go, but my insides, my mind was screaming at me not to. My last semester had one programming class in it. Programming was something I immensely enjoyed. This class destroyed me. This was probably my profession...and I was failing spectacularly. I was also dating a girl that I thought the world of and I knew she wouldn't be there when I got back. I was about to embark on a rite of passage for my chosen religion and I was scared and knowing I wouldn't do well. I was too shy, introverted...
I was called to Zurich Switzerland. I wanted to stay stateside as they were MY people. I didn't have any romantic notion about preaching the gospel to others. Damn it! Was it to be that nothing would go my way? If I was called of God, why was everything so damn wrong?
Looking back, I was severely depressed. I think I was even diagnosed by a counselor from LDS Family Services. I did the work of learning my new job, but I didn't care about the mission rules. The rules were stupid. Why would God block me from being the person I was? I desperately missed the girl. I learned the language, but I absolutely hated the idea of the work. I wasn't a preacher. I wanted to look at numbers, curves and watch the sparks fly. I lost about 30 pounds while I was in the Missionary Training Center. I loathed the place. BYU was right down the road. That was where I was happy. I didn't want to be shipped halfway across the world to preach a book with which I still had unresolved issues. I was a mormon, don't get me wrong, but I wasn't a fanatic. There were issues.
I arrived in Interlochen after the two months of training. It was stunning; beautiful beyond my wildest dreams. That I got to go to the most beautiful place on the mission as my first area was unbelievable. I also starved. I lost more weight. I was in the most expensive area in the world and my parents weren't wealthy. I was a burden to them. They sent money, but I never got it. I had to live on what the members might feed me. One meal a day if we were lucky. A cup of macaroni borrowed from my companion if we weren't. There were some days that I didn't eat anything, and by that point, I didn't have any weight left. The depression was still there, getting stronger by the day. Eventually, the mission president sent me stateside, if only so I could eat again. The language was easy...just a set of rules with words to place. Language wasn't the problem. Depression and hunger was.
I received a second call to Boston Mass. Mission. The president's first words were his wondering why he kept getting the problem elders. That was a kick to the gut...and I didn't have much of that left. My depression kept going on. I caught pneumonia in Boston that winter, as we couldn't afford heat. It was a trial to get out of bed on any morning. I was a failure to my parents with my struggles in school and out in the mission. I was a failure to the girl and any hope of my having any lasting relationship, and I was a failure to God as I failed being his salesman. A transfer to Vermont and then down to Connecticut followed. The girl finally had enough and told me to not write her anymore. I didn't blame her. I was a mess. I hated the person I was.
I called a close friend and told him that I was going to come home. I wasn't doing anyone any good out there. He told me to pray about it. I told him I would. I contemplated coming home a failure. I would leave BYU, as I surely wouldn't be accepted there, perhaps to go to Michigan or perhaps Arizona. My brief journey into a social life, such as I had one, in my church was effectively over. I would have to rebuild everything. I would pray about it, but I was pretty sure I was going to call the mission president the next day and tell him that I was done.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Ka_oevW2sc
My last year of high school was nothing too interesting. I went on my first dates after I graduated. I wasn't very good at it. Still, no harm in trying.
My choice of college was more important. I chose to go to Brigham Young University, mostly for the opportunity to go west, and to have a college experience without the distractions my brother had when he went to Central. I wanted to go to school. I wanted to learn. I decided on electrical engineering because it was hard, and I was curious about how radios and computers worked. I had worked with computers for a little bit, even bought one that my parents didn't know about. It was one of those first $99 ones. I wrote a few programs for it. I didn't know what else to expect out there. I didn't relish the idea of a whole school filled with over-protected kids like the ones I knew from my home ward. Still, it was a big enough school so maybe I could slip in-between the cracks.
This isn't a blog about my first two years of school. Let me just say, that aside for some bumps on the road and a lot of exasperation, it wasn't too bad. I didn't feel smart anymore. My first semester crushed me. I did have a lot of fun though. I was still a geek, not overly social, but I was in my element. I completely enjoyed school. I never chaffed at the rules, because I lived the way I did, I never came into conflict with anything.
My second year....my second year was epic. I met a girl that I knew from my first year and while I can't remember it well, I do know that I asked her roommate out. I fell in love. She was fiercely independent, nothing like any other girls I had met there before....hmmm.... But I digress, I was at a point now where I had to make a decision, or perhaps I had already made it, on whether to go on a mission. I decided to go, but my insides, my mind was screaming at me not to. My last semester had one programming class in it. Programming was something I immensely enjoyed. This class destroyed me. This was probably my profession...and I was failing spectacularly. I was also dating a girl that I thought the world of and I knew she wouldn't be there when I got back. I was about to embark on a rite of passage for my chosen religion and I was scared and knowing I wouldn't do well. I was too shy, introverted...
I was called to Zurich Switzerland. I wanted to stay stateside as they were MY people. I didn't have any romantic notion about preaching the gospel to others. Damn it! Was it to be that nothing would go my way? If I was called of God, why was everything so damn wrong?
Looking back, I was severely depressed. I think I was even diagnosed by a counselor from LDS Family Services. I did the work of learning my new job, but I didn't care about the mission rules. The rules were stupid. Why would God block me from being the person I was? I desperately missed the girl. I learned the language, but I absolutely hated the idea of the work. I wasn't a preacher. I wanted to look at numbers, curves and watch the sparks fly. I lost about 30 pounds while I was in the Missionary Training Center. I loathed the place. BYU was right down the road. That was where I was happy. I didn't want to be shipped halfway across the world to preach a book with which I still had unresolved issues. I was a mormon, don't get me wrong, but I wasn't a fanatic. There were issues.
I arrived in Interlochen after the two months of training. It was stunning; beautiful beyond my wildest dreams. That I got to go to the most beautiful place on the mission as my first area was unbelievable. I also starved. I lost more weight. I was in the most expensive area in the world and my parents weren't wealthy. I was a burden to them. They sent money, but I never got it. I had to live on what the members might feed me. One meal a day if we were lucky. A cup of macaroni borrowed from my companion if we weren't. There were some days that I didn't eat anything, and by that point, I didn't have any weight left. The depression was still there, getting stronger by the day. Eventually, the mission president sent me stateside, if only so I could eat again. The language was easy...just a set of rules with words to place. Language wasn't the problem. Depression and hunger was.
I received a second call to Boston Mass. Mission. The president's first words were his wondering why he kept getting the problem elders. That was a kick to the gut...and I didn't have much of that left. My depression kept going on. I caught pneumonia in Boston that winter, as we couldn't afford heat. It was a trial to get out of bed on any morning. I was a failure to my parents with my struggles in school and out in the mission. I was a failure to the girl and any hope of my having any lasting relationship, and I was a failure to God as I failed being his salesman. A transfer to Vermont and then down to Connecticut followed. The girl finally had enough and told me to not write her anymore. I didn't blame her. I was a mess. I hated the person I was.
I called a close friend and told him that I was going to come home. I wasn't doing anyone any good out there. He told me to pray about it. I told him I would. I contemplated coming home a failure. I would leave BYU, as I surely wouldn't be accepted there, perhaps to go to Michigan or perhaps Arizona. My brief journey into a social life, such as I had one, in my church was effectively over. I would have to rebuild everything. I would pray about it, but I was pretty sure I was going to call the mission president the next day and tell him that I was done.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Ka_oevW2sc
Sunday, August 12, 2012
2. Men Are That They Might Have Joy
My reading of the Book of Mormon was done in a very short time. I attacked the book with gusto. I wanted to know about it, more to find out what about it I disagreed with than to determine what I agreed with. About 2/3 of the way through, I thought to myself, "This is the strongest testimony of Christ I've ever read." I was sold, but I was also at a point in my life when I wanted to know more about Christ, more about God.
There were still some things that I had to work out. I didn't like the services. I wasn't sold on the programs of the church. I really didn't have all that much in common with most others in the church. I was more of a logical, geeky guy. I wanted facts, science...and Mormonism very much holds to a magical world view. I did want that too. I wanted miracles. I wanted visions, dreams, etc. The church had them all over. I did want a piece of that. My own prayers on things like that weren't being answered either so perhaps the church could help me with that.
I finished my reading of the Book of Mormon (BoM) and I can't recall ever receiving an answer to Moroni's promise.
I never felt the need to re-read the BoM. I figured out later that it probably had something to do with my memory. I have a decent one and once I read something, I very rarely feel the desire to re-read it. In fact, it kind of annoys me. That was something of a problem when I hit the internet boards in the 2000s because I couldn't stand proof-texting. I just never liked repetition of books or even verses.
My biggest positive take-aways from the book were
I also picked up a book called "The Miracle of Forgiveness" which I thought was a horrible book. I never felt so guilty, so unworthy of any consideration after reading that book. Look, I was a 16 year old boy. I had sins. I had sins all over. I had the sin of testosterone pumping into my bloodstream at a good rate. I liked girls and my mind wandered and that was adultery (or fornication) and that is next to murder.....I can't tell you how bad that book made me feel. I actually had to forgive myself for reading it and pretend it never happened because I just couldn't live with what a bad person I was.
As a side note, I do now think that the concept of "sin" is particularly damaging to people. To codify it, measure it and remedy it is a bad thing to do. It separates people. It is damaging to our normal social selves. It was very damaging to me and my relationships of those years. It has colored my thinking since and I am not proud of that. Mistakes are a part of life. We don't need to punish it. We need to get over it.
So there it really was. I started my journey into mormondom. I wasn't all that comfortable, but I was 16. I wasn't comfortable doing anything.
There were still some things that I had to work out. I didn't like the services. I wasn't sold on the programs of the church. I really didn't have all that much in common with most others in the church. I was more of a logical, geeky guy. I wanted facts, science...and Mormonism very much holds to a magical world view. I did want that too. I wanted miracles. I wanted visions, dreams, etc. The church had them all over. I did want a piece of that. My own prayers on things like that weren't being answered either so perhaps the church could help me with that.
I finished my reading of the Book of Mormon (BoM) and I can't recall ever receiving an answer to Moroni's promise.
I didn't do that specifically because I didn't feel that I needed to. I liked the book. Even though I wasn't sold at the time on the culture or church surrounding the book, I did like the book.3 Behold, I would exhort you that when ye shall read these things, if it be wisdom in God that ye should read them, that ye would remember how merciful the Lord hath been unto the children of men, from the creation of Adam even down until the time that ye shall receive these things, and ponder it in your hearts.4 And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.5 And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.
I never felt the need to re-read the BoM. I figured out later that it probably had something to do with my memory. I have a decent one and once I read something, I very rarely feel the desire to re-read it. In fact, it kind of annoys me. That was something of a problem when I hit the internet boards in the 2000s because I couldn't stand proof-texting. I just never liked repetition of books or even verses.
My biggest positive take-aways from the book were
- A Fortunate Fall. Adam fell that men might be. Men are that they might have joy. In other words, God didn't have an error when Adam fell. It was part of the story.
- Jesus cared about the whole world and preached accordingly. This painted a much larger picture of the gospel than was had before.
- "The blood of the saints shall cry from the ground against them". This concept of retribution helped me deal with the injustices of the world, and not just those of the christian faith.
- Angels and visions and the world of magic are part and parcel of faith in God.
- No evidence of the events of this book ever really occurring, no location for the events even attempted. I still liked facts, something I could point to.
- All the repeating of the NT and OT teachings. If this was a different culture, why did it have all the same stuff as modern christian culture?
- It was poorly written. Events and thoughts were jumbled and contradictory. The prose was so bad that it more than once failed to keep my attention.
- The church as I knew it didn't quite match up to what was written. It was hard to put my hand on at the time, but the church in the BoM was a bit more evangelistic, outward focused. For a very simple example, perhaps too simple; We are warned against costly apparel, yet we were to wear our finest clothes to church. I know that might not mean much, but I was a very discerning person even then.
I also picked up a book called "The Miracle of Forgiveness" which I thought was a horrible book. I never felt so guilty, so unworthy of any consideration after reading that book. Look, I was a 16 year old boy. I had sins. I had sins all over. I had the sin of testosterone pumping into my bloodstream at a good rate. I liked girls and my mind wandered and that was adultery (or fornication) and that is next to murder.....I can't tell you how bad that book made me feel. I actually had to forgive myself for reading it and pretend it never happened because I just couldn't live with what a bad person I was.
As a side note, I do now think that the concept of "sin" is particularly damaging to people. To codify it, measure it and remedy it is a bad thing to do. It separates people. It is damaging to our normal social selves. It was very damaging to me and my relationships of those years. It has colored my thinking since and I am not proud of that. Mistakes are a part of life. We don't need to punish it. We need to get over it.
So there it really was. I started my journey into mormondom. I wasn't all that comfortable, but I was 16. I wasn't comfortable doing anything.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
1. Entre Nous
Before I begin the next few years of blogging, I wanted to give some reference. I've experienced some major shifts in my worldview in the past years that are actually a product of the thirty years that preceded them.
As a warning. I will feel free to expand, edit, and redact my posts if I so desire. In some regards, I will be creating a history I may reference myself from time to time. I may at times be blunt in my discourse. I do not intend to offend. Generally, I feel more unrestrained in my writing than I would in a face to face conversation. I will try not to ramble. I will also put this forward: These are my feelings and experiences. I will try not to project them on others. My life, my words.
Some of you may know my real name. I ask that in any comments, you refer me as Darth, Darth Bill, or my preferred "DB". I will be moderating comments to verify that they aren't spam or if something may be too private to post comfortably. I invite comments. I'm more than willing to dig deeper into any topic that I might bring up.
Since this is one of those religion/philosophical blogs, I will start with my own excursion into this realm. I was baptized at the age of 9 by my brother into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. To say I didn't really understand anything at this point is a foregone conclusion. This was the church my mother belonged to. We went there because she did. Aside from occasional crushes on girls that attended, I can't really remember much about this time. I don't think were were very active otherwise. My mother felt needed because she could play the piano and the branch didn't have any other resources. I think I attended until I was 10 when I believe my parents had a rough spot in their marriage and family demands dictated that we spend our time elsewhere.
During my family's inactivity and while my brother was attending college, he drove down to Florida with friends and when the car broke down, they abandoned him. He was stuck in Macon, Georgia without any friends, money or support and my parents suggested that he contact the bishop of the church there, to see if he could help at all. My parents didn't have many resources to draw upon. Unknown to me at the time, I would be going through a similar circumstance in Kansas with my new bride in -25 weather some time later. The help that the bishop provided my brother would be remembered by my family from then on. It was foundational in my relationship with the church and drove many of my feelings and passions throughout my life. I'm sure I will expound on this in later posts. I am pretty sure that my brother's years of activity following this event were based upon this event also.
While I was in 7th and 8th grade I capitalized on the issues my family was having and I did quite a few things to cause a loss of trust with my parents. I also realized I was on a path that I didn't want to be on. After a particular encounter with law enforcement, I decided to change my life. Since I really didn't have anywhere else to turn, I turned to religion. I didn't have any other way that I knew of to reform my life. I turned to the only way I knew....Jesus. Like many other converts, I spent a great deal of time experimenting with the religion. I wanted to know what I was doing was the right thing. I was disappointed and hit my first frustrations. I wanted to know what was right, but to ask for a sign was sinful. The cognitive dissonance was beginning. Goody.
In order to create some peace and order in the family, my parents determined that we were to go to church again. My father, who wasn't a member, went also even though he visibly didn't enjoy himself. He went to make his wife happy. I also didn't enjoy the church of my youth. I was 15 and the LDS church meetings were not something that I found engaging. When we first started attending, we only went to the Sacrament Meeting. Later, I was to attend all three meetings. At some point there was meeting consolidation so the meetings were at some point sequential. I can't remember the details. I didn't enjoy the church, I didn't believe the teachings (what little I knew) and I was starting to desire to rebel. I decided I would come to an informed conclusion so I pulled out the blue-covered Book of Mormon that I had and started reading....
-----------------------
Just between us
I think it's time for us to recognize
The differences we sometimes fear to show
Just between us
I think it's time for us to realize
The spaces in between
Leave room for you and I to grow
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