Don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I’ve had trouble blogging on my regular blog. I’ve felt like I was being inauthentic, not honest, because I had to conceal the fact that I’ve left the church because my mother reads that blog and I didn’t want her to find out until I told her. I was going to wait until I saw her in person, but yesterday realised I couldn’t wait anymore.
Because I communicate best in writing, and my mother is a writer herself, I wrote a long thoughtful email, highlighting some of the issues and my beliefs about them. And then I waited. And waited. And waited. (I sent this yesterday, btw.)
This morning I couldn’t stand it, and asked if she were okay, and re-emphasizing that I love her and hate to hurt her.
Her response was, I suppose, pretty much what I had expected. What I wasn’t expecting was how much it would hurt. She didn’t respond to any of the direct examples or points that I’d made, beyond asking if I’ve ever heard of the pseudipegrapha (I probably spelled that wrong, sorry) and that certain books in the OT are fiction, doesn’t that mean we should throw out the OT? And the NT is definitely true. And so is the BOM and the POGP. And Obama is a traitor, and the Democrat party throws out religion and funds abortions. And my apostasy is my own decision.
But really–no one decides to be an apostate. I didn’t wake up a year and a half ago, and say, “Woohoo! I’m going to apostatise from the Mormon Church!”
It all started with questions. And questions led to answers and more questions, until I finally had to face the facts. It wasn’t true. I remember standing at a precipice, knowing that if I looked any further, there would be no going back. I could “choose to believe” or I could continue to seek truth. I chose truth.
I don’t know what’s out there. I don’t know who/what/how/why the universe was created. And I’m cool with not knowing. I don’t know what’s going to happen after I die. Maybe I’ll be dust in the wind. Maybe I’ll be reincarnated as a cat or a stinkbug. Maybe the mormon god is the one true god and I’ll be in outer darkness with the rest of the apostates. Maybe allah is the one true god and I’ll be destroyed with the other infidels. Maybe the christian god is the one true god and I’ll burn in the fiery pits of Mordor–whoops, sorry, hell. Maybe there’s something beyond this life that is beyond anything we can possibly know or understand. Until I die, I won’t know.
I was watching a serialisation of a P.D. James book last night, and one of the characters said, regarding her granddaughter who had (a) had an abortion and (b) presumably killed herself, “I forgive her. And I can’t be more merciful than God.” I like her idea of things. If there’s a god, and zie is all the good things we’ve been told, then I can’t be more compassionate, more merciful, more forgiving than that god. We judge each other based on what we see and experience with each other, and if there is that good, just, merciful god, zie can see my heart. And I have a good heart.
I won’t stop blogging here. I have a lot to say about my former life as a mormon, and my current life as an exmormon. But I’m hoping I’ll find it easier to be blogging on my other blogs because I won’t have to be hiding from my mother anymore. Chauceriangirl, if you’re interested, on wordpress, and quirky girls, also on wordpress.
I look forward to a long and interesting life with all of you! Sincerely, Faith the Apostate.