The Other Side of the Wilderness

Some days I still feel angry. If I'm really honest, it's actually pretty easy for me to access that part of my feelings towards the church. I can do it at a moment's notice. Some days I feel a lot of sympathy and love. I remember that a church is a group of imperfect people like me who are ostensibly trying to be better. Some days I feel lonely. I miss the community, the constant buzzing of busy-ness. I miss the feeling of knowing my place. Some days I feel just fine. I forget to think about it. I go about my day, I make my children do their homework, I fix dinner. I admire a sunset. I go to bed, and it's all mundane and wonderful. Some days are harder. Some days are easier. Some days the nostalgia you feel for the church is a lot like the way you wish you could experience going to Disneyland again as a child--that sense that magic actually lived someplace and was tangible--and yet when you go back as an adult, it's just not the same. Some days you are so...

This week I have been thinking a lot about something a friend of mine texted me. This friend has been going through her own faith transition out of the LDS faith, and like many people, she is finding it hard to navigate through a few particularly hard experiences and decisions in relation to this journey. She asked me if I would consider taking the time to write what I think about her question. Let me share her exact words, because I think she said it perfectly. "I actually wondered if you would consider writing about or talking me through something I'm having a hard time with. The thing is, I believe the church isn't what it says it is and in many ways I don't want to be a part of it, but I'm having such a hard time letting go of the parts that I do enjoy and also knowing how everyone in the church, including family and friends, will then perceive me after I leave the church. I know it shouldn't matter, but it's so hard for me to have people thin...