Truth and Reconciliation

This is part six in an nine part series. To understand the rest of this post you will need to read part five.   If you haven't already read it you may read part five here.  Additionally, you can scroll to the end to find part seven.  

I had been diagnosed with HSP, received multiple herniated discs, gone through more onsets of HSP, and been diagnosed with Kidney Failure.  I was unable to reconcile these events and with everything else that had happened with my faith.  At this point I had been flat on my back for a total of 12 weeks in the past few years.  Not one meal had been brought over to us, but in that time we had been asked to bring no less than three meals to other people going through hard times.  I went months and months without any sort of visit from any ecclesiastical leader. Everything I saw and heard discussed at every meeting I had ever attended was not applied to me, or to Melissa.  

I still didn’t know how to discuss these feelings with Melissa because you don’t question your faith, you just know that things will work out for the best.  You exercise faith. Well, with where that had led me, I didn’t know how to do that. So I just didn’t do anything. 

As previously stated I did stop attending church.  The risk of getting sick again was not worth going.  As the Young Men’s President I had been asked by the bishop on a number of occasions to coordinate bringing the sacrament to various people in the ward that were at home, unable to attend church.  For months it was not offered to me. By the time it was offered I wasn’t interested in having it brought to me. I was having serious doubts about the reality of the deity I had always worshiped.

I went through the year, not moving in any direction.  I spent some of my time reading scriptures and conference talks, trying to work things out.  However every time I attended conference, or read Ensign articles, or attended church, I kept finding teachings or examples of people that went through a hard time, and had all sorts of support from the ward, or were blessed greatly for their faith.  These were all things that didn’t happen for me. The only silver lining I could find is that I didn’t bleed out, and my kidneys did recover (which I am grateful for.)

That year, in 2014, I let my temple recommend expire. I had too many doubts about God to renew it.  I eventually stopped doing anything to try and reconcile what had happened to me with my faith in God.  I couldn’t take reading any more stories in the church magazine the Ensign and on lds.org that were directly contrary to what I had gone through.

The next year Melissa’s sister gave birth to her third child.  We went up to Oregon for the baby blessing in June of 2015. While there the father of the child invited me to participate in the blessing of the child.  I didn’t know how to respond.  Fortunately this happened as we were walking out the door, so the fact that I didn't respond with much more than an "OK" or "Thank you" was fine. The next day, at the church meeting, I just didn’t go up to participate in the blessing and did not partake in the sacrament. 

This of course, was a huge surprise to Melissa and all of her family. I have always been an extremely spiritual and deeply religious person, so this was new.  The rest of the service went off without a hitch, as did pictures and dinner afterwards. I actually left church early so I could go take a nap in my hammock. I had a long 14 hour drive ahead of me starting later that afternoon.

After Melissa and I left she asked me if I wanted to talk about why I didn’t participate.  I explained to her what was going on, what I had felt, what had happened, the trial of my faith I was going through.  It was a good conversation that lasted a good long time. At last I was able to explain to her how I felt and what was going on.  

In late summer or early fall of that year our bishop experienced a heart attack.  He survived, had surgery, and began a long road of recovery. I don’t know what went through his mind, or what his thoughts were, because I didn’t ask.  I do know that he recovered relatively quickly as he began attending church and returned to his calling within a month of the incident.

In November of that year one of the young men I had taught as an advisor came home from a mission.  I was asked to speak at sacrament meeting with him. I agreed to do so. I was asked to present on Christlike attributes, and how I saw the young man grow into those attributes.  

During my research for the talk I came to a realization that I was experiencing church hurt. I had prayed for somebody to come and visit me, or to come and help Melissa, and it just never happened.   I was offended by the actions, or lack of actions, of other people, and should not let that get in the way of my belief in God. My faith was again restored and I was ready to move on and let the things that had, and had not happened, be left in the past. I believe, though I don't recall for sure, that I let Melissa know this was the case.

The next month, December 2015, Melissa and I attended tithing settlement.  This is a meeting between your bishop and you (and your spouse) where you declare if you have been a full tithe payer.  During my hard times I had never stopped paying tithing.  While there the bishop talked, and talked, and talked, and talked. He then said something that hit me like a ton of bricks, and would change my life for the better.  

He said 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.

This is a crazy spot to put this, but I think it's time for part seven.