Temples and Confussion

 
Yesterday in Sunday School we had a lesson on the temple. I can honestly say I learned something from that lesson and that I felt the Spirit there. Yet at the same time, I have to admit that the lesson hit a nerve. My temple experiences haven't always been the peaceful, soul-expanding sort of experiences that everyone always talks about. In fact, much of the hurt and confusion I've felt from gospel living has come in connection to the temple.

Now, I realize that a lot of my thoughts and emotions surrounding this topic are merely signs that I have more to learn and grow. This past General Conference, President Nelson counseled, "If you don’t yet love to attend the temple, go more often—not less. Let the Lord, through His Spirit, teach and inspire you there. I promise you that over time, the temple will become a place of safety, solace, and revelation" ("The Temple and Your Spiritual Foundation"). I think that's wise advice, and I'm working on it.

However, yesterday as I sat contemplating my situation, the Spirit whispered to me another thought. It was this: "I see you. I get it. And there is space, here with Me, for your struggle."

In other words, God gets it, and just as He doesn't expect my emotions to just magically get better or go away. The options aren't "Get over it" or "Get out." No--the invitation is: "Stay with Me, and we'll work through this together."

I think that sometimes when we experience questions, doubts, or discomfort in association with the gospel, our instinct is to hide from God. How quick we are to forget that this is the same God who has taught us to "mourn with those who mourn" and to "comfort those who stand in need of comfort." Surely, He will do for us as He has asked us to do for others, especially in relation to matters involving His church and His gospel.

We can experience hard emotions and still experience His love. There is time and space for you to feel what you need to and experience it before letting it go, even if that means waiting for the next life for your aching heart to be made whole.

We do not have all the answers, but we do all have Jesus Christ. Personally, I'd rather have Him over all the answers anyway. 

Cling to what you do have and know, hope for resolution to that which you cannot yet grasp, and trust in what is always absolute and sure--His great and enduring love for you. Things always work out in the end.

---

Articles that have comforted me in regards to my temple experience:

"When You Feel Uncomfortable or Confused in the Temple + Other Insights" by Anthony Sweat

"Am I Missing Something Here?" by Mary Stallings

Where Did This Come From?

The last picture I could find of myself on my phone.
Thanks, Emily, for the gift!

I've been trying to avoid writing this for a long time.

A few months ago, I thought to myself: "I need some motivation in my life! I'll set a goal to write a short story." So I did.

Only then did I realize the dilemma I faced: What to write about? I looked around to see what others were writing about and soon realized that in order to write anything of value, I needed to be an expert of some sort. In other words, I needed to either have a PhD, a fantastic career, or to have gone through some sort of traumatic/significant life-changing event. 

Whelp, that's not me.

So I ditched the idea. 

But it just kept coming back to me, despite my best efforts to remind the thought that I'm no expert in anything. I'm just ordinary.

"Well, write about that," the thought pushed.

"What's there to know about being ordinary?" I replied. "Nearly everyone's done it."

"Let's find out, shall we?" the thought came back.

And so here we are.

If you're here reading this, I have no fantastic research or field experience about Mesopotamia and it's ancient civilization to share with you. I have no budding career that's brining me into the spotlight, and no life events significant enough to make it on the news (and I'd rather keep it that way).

I'm just extra ordinary.

I stay at home with my kids.

I struggle with depression.

Yesterday I ate three cookies for breakfast and then had three more.

My greatest accomplishment in the past four years was that one time I washed AND folded all of the laundry on the same day.

And as I'm trying to write this, my son is calling for me to change the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse episode to one that I have no idea where to find.

Really, the only thing I'm an expert on is being ordinary. But maybe since this--whatever "this" even ends out being--is coming from me rather than from some far-off stranger with their picture on the back of a book flap, it will help someone who I actually know and care about, which sounds like a pretty awesome and worth-while effort to me.

So I'm here, just writing a few thoughts that I have on what it means to be an extra ordinary saint. Emphasis on the "extra."