exit story 4: journal

Okay, so I wanted to post just once day, but I can't this stuff out fast enough. Posting is cleansing, and there are lots of things I have to talk about besides my exit story--which is long enough, and still has several more posts. So here's the next installment:

After about a year of reading, I realized things had changed. While I was still a faithful member, I had serious doubts. I retained hope that I could be able to resolve those doubts; that somehow, this would all make me a better member in the end.

I went back through my journal the other day, and found what I think is the first time I ever committed my doubts to paper. During the months before then, I just couldn't write it down. I thought I would get through it all, and any doubts I had in the past would just be embarrassing or not faith-promoting to any future progeny that might read my journal. But finally, things had come far enough that I had to write it. I wasn't talking to anyone about this, and my thoughts were swirling around fast enough to make me dizzy. I had to get it out. Looking back at it, I can see how very desperate and confused I was:

“Sunday, 2004. Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning in shallow water. Have I used this metaphor before? I mean I'm losing touch with my spirituality. I find little comfort in the church these days. Or, indeed, in the Gospel, since I find myself so suspicious of where we get the Gospel--the scriptures, the Brethren, the Church. I've become more critical--and that's good. But I find myself criticizing too much. So much that I rarely get anything good out of church or reading stuff from the church. Deep down, I believe. I believe in God and Christ and his Gospel. And I believe the Mormon church has something that other churches don't. Something essential.

But, but, but.

Maybe that is enough testimony for now. Enough to survive on. But doubts chip-chip-chip away. I'm the one chipping away, though. Why don't I stop? Why?

I don't want to go back to where I came from--ignorant bliss. Is there somewhere else? Knowledgeable bliss? Not everyone who is happy is ignorant. They find comfort in God. Why don't I? How valuable is this knowledge anyway? Is it worth drowning (in shallow water) over? Is it so important?

'Intellect can strengthen spirituality and spirituality can strengthen intellect,' I heard in church today. How?

I haven't been reading the Book of Mormon lately--not very often, for months now. Is neglecting that really creating such a drought of spiritual confidence? Is that such a big deal? When I do read, I find little comfort. I can't help being suspicious of its origins. 'By their fruits you shall know them' is a bunch of crap if the book is a fraud. I still believe it. I want to believe in it. How am I to improve that? Read only that, and leave all 'extracurricular' writings (stuff not produced by the church) alone? Just be more selective. Read the other stuff with guidance. Pray about it all.

Pray. Will it be answered?

I used to feel the Spirit all the time. Help Mom find her lost check book. Remember where I left my keys. Get comfort whenever I needed it. Comfort. Lots of it. Now what do I get? Nothing. Is that because my actions have warranted a loss of that spiritual gift (is a struggle of faith enough to warrant that?), or is it because I felt what I was taught to feel, and I found comfort in believing something that wasn’t really there? Just believing in something bigger than me was enough to bring comfort when I asked for it? Is that all religion really is? Do I feel uncomfortable now because of loss of spirit or loss of ignorant bliss?

I’ve heard that analogy where the Spirit is like a radio—you have to be tuned to the right channel. Or, rather, you are the radio, and the Spirit is the signal. And is always signaling, whether you are listening or not. I just let the dial slip; I can’t figure out why all I get is static now. It’s not that the Spirit isn’t there, trying to communicate with me, it’s that I’m not attuned to it anymore. So just tune it back. That simple.

If only.

Pain is a part of the spiritual journey. But isn’t happiness too? Am I a dwarf in The Last Battle by CS Lewis—seeing a smelly, dark barn while really surrounded by a beautiful meadow paradise?”

(To which I now answer, yes, but not in the way I thought then.)