Betrayal: After the Interview

Maybe if I can just.. think of him as having really passed away. If he is really gone, if he is not on Earth any more, than what I have done has not betrayed him. If I can just accept that he is gone and doesn't exist anymore and that this isn't him, that I am not talking about him, that I did not sit in that room, and shake and cry and tell those officers all of the things he did... maybe it will be better. If I can just grieve him, grieve my loss of him, and just miss him in the way my heart misses him, then maybe the pains and pangs of betrayal and hurt won't be so terrible. It is so terrible. I can't even tell you how terrible it is. When I left the house, the last thing I did was listen to Stephanie Nielson's video from her blog, as I have many times, and I drew peace from that. I've seen it so many times I didn't need to watch it. I walked out of the house thinking, "He is at my right hand and at my left. My right hand and at my left. My right and my left. Right and left. Right and left. Right and left." Over and over again. It is one of the most terrible things I have ever done.

"When suffering, we may in fact be nearer to God than we’ve ever been in our entire lives. That knowledge can turn every such situation into a would-be temple.


Regarding our earthly journey, the Lord has promised:

I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up. [D&C 84:88]


That is an everlasting declaration of God’s love and care for us, including—and perhaps especially—in times of trouble."

Elder Holland

I want them to fit.

I have been watching this video over and over tonight. (I've seen it many times prior to this as well.) I don't know why other than... I just need to hear it.  I love this quote. It speaks to me. I hear it in me. I was talking to my mom about it today. I sent it to her a few weeks ago because I thought it would resonante with her as well. She was diagnosed with RA last year and has been struggling. She told me she cried when she watched it as well. "I am not my body," she quoted back to me. I think she got the message.

...I am only beginning to hear it.

I don't have my confirmation. And those clothes... for me, those dreams, I want those dreams... I want those dreams to fit. Someday. I don't know how to get there, and I can't imagine the path to take and the journey to endure, but I want those dreams to fit again. They don't right now. But a small part of me wants them to. But so much of me is hurting and broken still... I mourn for that woman every day.

I was raised in the Lutheran Church, and after being attacked at church camp as a pre-teen, spent many years in church with a raised eyebrow and secret feelings of atheism. (No belief in God.) Over time that came around to an identification with agnostic beliefs (Open to the idea of God, but wanting proof... in other words, no faith.) Slowly, over time my feelings have changed, but it has taken a very long time and continues to take time. I pray now, but it takes work for me. Hard work. I badly want faith and beliefs because I have seen how it enriches the lives of those who have chosen to take that path. With my background... it is hard work. But I can do hard things.

At least, I am trying.