My bishop had explained that he knew that while he did go through his experience of a heart attack, he knew he was protected by God. He was protected because he had a calling that was so important, that made him important, that God protected him through it, and gave him the energy and strength to continue in his calling. He had been provided with plenty of help from ward members that helped him and his wife get through the trial.
My heart was broken. I left with Melissa, having lost all of my recently found faith, and in fact, within a few minutes (maybe even seconds) of that conversation ending, I no longer believed in the the god of my childhood, teen years, and young adult life. In my mind my bishop had just explained that the god I had worshiped was very much a respecter of persons. That he picks and chooses who he will bless, regardless of the faith they show him. He will give a hand to one, but to another that gives all they can to him, and exercises just as much faith as the first, he will withhold his hand. This wasn’t the god I thought I knew. It was crazy to me then, and is still now, how quickly I went from a confident member of the church to not accepting a belief in that god, or any deity.
On our way home Melissa said something about how she felt about what the bishop had said, I do not recall what it was, and it scared me away from telling her what had just happened in my head. I again found myself in a situation where I didn’t know how I could discuss this with her, so I didn’t. I continued on, trying to get this thought out of my head, and see if I couldn’t return to my former belief and faith.
In March of 2016 we went on a family getaway with her extended family on her dad’s side. It included Grandma, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Around 25 or so people showed up. It was a great time. On the car ride we read the story of her pioneer ancestry (the point of the trip was to go learn about where Grandma Elmer grew up). I wanted this to help me, and maybe give me another point of view. I had been so scared of losing my beliefs. The end message of the church was such a great thing. Eternal life, living with my love forever. I couldn’t fathom giving that up, or not 'knowing' it to be true.
While at church that weekend I participated in the sacrament, unable to tell her again that I was already re-questioning my faith. I didn't attend church at home because I didn't want to risk getting sick again. After multiple onsets of HSP any illness can cause a new onset of HSP. People go to church even when they are physically ill, so I didn't go. However, I wanted to be the person Melissa wanted to be with. I wanted to be the man that sat through church with her because I love her, and she doesn’t tell me to. I wanted her to have what she deserved.
Life continued on, and I just could not believe in the church, or in God. I wanted to, but I couldn't. I again began to read Ensign articles and scriptures and just kept finding everything I had found previously, so I stopped reading. I became luke warm. I was neither in, nor out. Through all of this I continued praying with Melissa, lying my way through prayers, hoping for my faith to be restored.
Nobody knew of my sorrow, or of my feelings, or what I was going through. Then, one day at a family dinner I found my sister to be having a difficult time. She was going through her own trials, and I wanted to attempt to comfort her. She was sitting outside my parents house, and I joined her. Our discussion eventually came to the fact that I no longer believe in the church, or in God. Finally, somebody knew. She didn’t know all of what was going on, but she knew, and she still loved me. That helped.
I had seen in so many people’s lives that when a spouse leaves the church, the other spouse leaves the relationship. I couldn’t fathom this happening. Melissa was (and is) my love. During some of the hardest times of my life she had literally kept me alive. She changed the bandages covering my wounds, fed me when I couldn’t walk, cleaned my clothes, cleaned everything, did everything, and was the love of my life. I was so scared that if I told her how I felt she would leave me, knowing that she couldn’t get to the Celestial Kingdom with me. I just could not tell her, and didn’t.
Late in that summer I was asked by my Elders Quorum president and a counselor to be a teacher. I explained I did not believe in God. They said they didn’t care. Any time I presented a lesson they always learned something. I explained I would not be bearing any testimony. They still wanted me to be a teacher, so I agreed. I know for a fact that many of my lessons were not prepared or presented by the spirit. However, people always approached me afterwards and expressed sincere gratitude for the extremely spiritual lesson I had presented. Well, I know there was no spirit involved on my part. So, according to D&C 50, there is no way they were actually feeling the spirit because I did not present with the spirit, it was by some other means.
In March of 2017 I finally got to the point that I could not handle the emotional stress my life was causing me. I broke and shared with Melissa how I felt. I explained I had not been able to tell her because I was so scared she would leave me. This hurt her, to think that she could have shown any sign that she wouldn’t stay with me. She loved me, and wouldn’t leave me because of me religious belief. I was so happy, and yet sad with myself for not realizing that she loved me for me, not me for being a member of the church.
Later that year I decided that I would again begin reading the scriptures, and I would start with the foundation, the Old Testament. I felt I owed it to Melissa to try yet again. I’m really glad I did this. Why, you might say? Well, because while I had read the majority of the Holy Bible before, I had read it with what might be called God Goggles. I had read and understood it as the religion wanted me to, with the belief that god was good and the definition of love regardless of what he does. This time I was reading it not already having a belief in God, and not already believing that the god of the bible was good. I didn’t assume he was bad, rather, I just didn’t accept a belief in him.
I began an honest search for truth. My belief in God had been such an integral part of my life. I wanted to have my faith restored. I wanted to return to Him. I wanted to believe in him. I missed the feelings I continuously felt while engaged with religious services and activities. If you want to learn more about my search check out the post What I Learned in My Search.
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