Doubt and Distress - Pump the Brakes and Take a Breath

I am not an expert. I don't have my footing. I have no answers.

Oh, and I'm not a blogger.

I CANNOT emphasize this enough. I don't want a niche (I'm not a Mormon Blogger, or a Mommy Blogger, or political blogger or a fashion blogger and on and on), I don't want people saying things like, "I have a story - you should put this in your blog," and I don't want people in my life pulling me aside to ask, "Was that last entry about me?"

Seriously, bro, we haven't spoken for three years.

Yeah, but there was that one time-

No. Just no. Let's go back to not talking for another three years. Please. It was a highlight of our acquaintance, so let's keep it up.

I'm a novelist first and foremost and forever. I write fantastically violent, passionate, intense-as-hell stories with characters that will make you laugh out loud and also ask, "I'm not the only one who does that?" And I write these stories to make you think. That's it. I'm not actually presenting answers in writing these stories, but I'm daring you to take the beliefs I confront and decide whether they will change for you. That's it. Very simple.

And that is all I intended with my last post. People I knew on facebook and elsewhere were vilifying people who question - and it's a national trend, really. Labels, insults, "us verses them," frantic demonstrations and boycotts and firings and smearing using really foul, horrid words. It's really ugly out there.

And we look for reasons to dismiss people. Oh, they're a conservative, or a traitor to their race, or her kids are a mess so she's dumb, or that dude doesn't even drive a Prius.

But it's a little fun. You know, having a cause and having a villain. It makes life funner, more satisfying, more purposeful. And darker. Much, much darker. Mostly inside of you, though, because you let it in with a grin.

We're all guilty of it. Yes, even me.

And all I wanted to do with my last post was let my most enthusiastic and dogmatic friends know that a questioner was among them, and they love me, and I'm good to them, and I'm not a threat, and I'm truly just wondering. That's all, just putting things together and realizing I'd have to do a lot of forcing to make them fit, and no one else can make them fit either.

So, about that....

Let me put this as plainly and gently as possible:

Sometimes, there are no answers.

So saying, "I don't know," or "That's a really good question," or "Huh, I wonder if we'll ever know" does NOT make you hella dumb and it does NOT debunk your beliefs and it does NOT make me lose respect for you.

In fact, to most of my quandaries and struggles with the culture and doctrine of the LDS church and the world around me, there are no answers and there are fewer comforts - for me. For others, fantastic. But not for me. And I'm not panicking, and I'm not scrounging for books to read (I've already read so many that I cannot, I mean, I just can't), and, frankly, your theory is nice but it's not an answer.

We don't know why bad things happen to good people, we don't know why faith works like (quite literal) magic for some and does jack squat for others, we don't know why people have pet tarantulas(don't bother trying to explain that one), and I cannot figure out why I always seem to look at the clock at 8:08 - and it's starting to freak me out. Life's mysteries that just make you shrug and go, "Wow, things are stupid here sometimes."

If I panicked over every unanswered question or every seeming contradiction in the world around me, I'd've been dead of a stroke by the age of 4. Because, for the life of me, I could NOT explain to my toddler friend that she was NOT older than I was because she was born in January and I was born in March. I can still feel young my brain twisting, having not a first clue how to prove I was older.

And the puzzles have continued their steady flow in and right out of my life.

We questioners, we doubters, we're just wondering and we're confused and even a little heartbroken. Because we know in our hearts when we hear the truth, and some of the things we hear don't inspire that lovely confirmation - but dread instead. We're not trying to rip away your warm blanket of beliefs, we're not trying to castrate men and impose the Goddess, and we're not mocking or deriding or besmirching your theories. They're really nice theories. But you must admit, you have to admit, that they aren't answers. And if you received some sort of confirmation that it was an answer, well, it wasn't, because you can't receive revelation for the LDS Church.

Let the spinning begin.

I have absolutely no problem with a struggle to find truth - whatever it is - through a long, arduous and even lonely journey. Such is the nature of life. We are here to find our way back to God. Your way isn't my way. And I even have no problem entertaining the questions, "What if this is all a lie? What if none of this is true? What if this is all in my head and there isn't even a God? What if I'm in the Matrix?" It doesn't frighten me to think that, after this life, it may well be lights out.

If we don't allow these questions, then how can we really know whether our beliefs are based in faith or fear? In facing a "lights out" scenario, I've realized that, well, I'd better do my best to live well and make this life better for people who suffer - hence my desire to be involved in funding the rescue of people in the human trafficking industry. If this is the only life we have, then there are women and children being terrorized, invaded, humiliated and injured (sometimes multiple times a day) and I want to make sure suffering isn't all they know and that they are freed.

Some can say that a lack of religion will make someone into a hedonist. Maybe. Not me.

In stepping back from religion for a time, I've actually gained a sense of my innate goodness. I am no longer living a certain way for a certain outcome. I am living a certain way, because I am a certain way. I serve others because I love others. I am kind to others because I'm kind. I give to others because I have a lot to give.

And I believe in God, and I have a deep and beautiful sense that He believes in me. Truly. He has faith in me, He's got a hold of me, and He's good with me. He and I, We're going to be okay. And if I get to the next life, and He sits me down and says, "Kate, Mormonism was all true," my next question will be - as it has always been with Him - "Great, where do you want me?"

Until then, that will be my only question of Him. "Okay, where do you want me now?" And in a little while, when I feel unsettled, I'll ask again, "Where do you need me now?" Because right now, I'm exactly where He wants me to be. And I never thought I'd be here, so I can no longer make any promises as to where I'll end up. And if I'm inched back into the heights of the Mormon faith, there I'll be. And if I remain a woman who goes to church from time to time because I love - LOVE - the people (I love them so incredibly much) and I dig the music and I feel the Spirit, then it's because that's where my soul, my heart, and my whole self is maximized.

And, as of right now, I feel maximized. I'm not afraid, I'm not overwhelmed, I'm not angry and frantic and frustrated. I am figuring things out principle by principle. There are things about the LDS doctrine that I outright reject. That likely means that unless I receive another answer on that principle, I will be a B+/C- Mormon who will not be "worthy" to enter the temple. And I respect those standards enough to have abstained from my temple attendance even though my recommend was valid. I hit a point when I couldn't answer the interview questions "correctly," and I knew that would prevent me from getting a recommend, so I stood down out of my immense, almost aching respect for the Mormon faith and the people who live it fully.

And, yes, it was sad for me, but I realize that there are a lot of paradigms that I fit and others I don't.  I'm a no-show Liberal Democrat and flunky Republican and an A- Libertarian, and kickass wife and a head-over-heels mommy, a fantastic thriller writer but a terrible lyricist, and I totally get volleyball but curling is beyond me. There are principles and limits I can choose and accept, and others I cannot. As human beings, we have to take a step back from everything at different points or after different events of our lives and reassess.

It's nothing to be scared of.

For 30 years, Mormonism was what I absolutely needed in all things. Then, for some reason, the burden outgrew the blessing, and I was losing my grip on God. Quickly. Everything went slipping.

It was all stripped and gone.

Was there even a God?

Yes, I knew that much. I knew that. I did. I at least knew that. But that was all.

I could no longer assume that I knew any amount of truth beyond the existence of something greater than me. It was all just gone.

I then had to figure out what kind of God He was. Was He involved, did He know me, was He with me then?

Yes. Good.

It was then up to me to truly subject myself to my God and His plan to teach me.

And all I wanted to do and do better was love. I was so, so, so tired. Just tired. I couldn't do it all, much less do it all well, and I disagreed with so much and I couldn't make it all fit, and there were certain things I hated doing and others I missed deeply, but in losing it all I somehow and eventually found peace.

In my dark living room, where it was only God and me and tears, I felt His enduring and adoring grip on my heart and I knew I was good and I would be okay. I didn't think that was possible. I thought I would only feel God that closely, and He would only love me if I met certain requirements, but He was there - right there - and I am His.

The point is, it isn't black or white, it isn't all or nothing - it's your personal best.

In everything outside of church - whatever church that is - we're told to follow the Spirit. Keep it close, listen to those feelings, cultivate that relationship by heeding every gut feeling you get. Isn't it fair, then, to heed those lovely warnings and assurances within the religion itself? If you feel just as sick about polygyny as you do about killing puppies, maybe you should examine that feeling a little bit. Would you rather be locked in a coffin with a corpse than go to church that particular Sunday? I'd say something's up and maybe you need that day off.

People will disagree - obedience overall. Obedience to what? To the Spirit that gives you peace when you're doing what's right. If it's wrong, you know. And if it's wrong for you, don't be scared. It may be wrong now, but right later. Find your own way through this. Trust yourself. Trust in God. In the end, you will face Him and He'll know your heart and that you were only following His guidance.

Truth doesn't expire. It will always be there. And you'll be led to it - wherever it is - when you're ready for it.

This life is just you and God. That's it. It's not you and your congregation, or you and your book club, or even you and your little family. It's you finding the tools you need to be the best, most loving, most peaceful, most beautiful creature you can be. Do good, be good, create good and find God.

And don't be scared.