I became so fixated with my faith and poking holes in that.
My studies got pushed aside; my grades took a hit.
I started to want to disbelieve.
And I think that's when the darkness for me,
personally, really set in.
As I dug deeper and deeper in trying to find anything
and everything negative I could find about God,
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,
and just Christianity more generally,
I remember also reading lots of exodus stories--people that had
similar questions and ultimately decided to leave the Church.
And that was tempting to me.
I just felt like I had no grip on anything.
Everything that I'd ever believed,
I felt like was slipping through my fingers.
And I had no idea what to believe anymore.
It was terrifying.
I remember weeping in the shower.
And I remember struggling to sleep and tossing and turning.
And it was just all I could think about.
Other conversations could be going on,
and everything was just going back
to this fundamental question of, what is real?
What is true?
And I remember walking into my bishop's office.
And I said, "I don't know if I'm going
to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day
Saints for the rest of my life."
He listened patiently.
And he just said, "Well, I hope you're praying."
My prayers were very simple.
A lot of times I could not get out more than "God, help me.
Help me."
And eventually, He did.
But it was not an immediate-type help.
It was more like a slow sunrise.
Over months of making choices to believe, that light came back.
There are evidences that I've chosen to give credibility.
The fact that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day
Saints has really helped me to think more about other people
and encouraged me to do that--that's not everything,
but it is something, right?
And the times when I was growing up and I turned to the Book
of Mormon and I read and I felt peace--it's not everything,
but it is something, right?
And so all these somethings over time that I chose to ignore
when I was in the thick of that crisis--I thought I was being
intellectually honest, right?
I thought, "I'm just going to be open-minded.
I'm going to see everything how it is."
But at the same time, I wasn't being fully honest
about all these other things that
could raise the question of "Maybe, maybe there is a God.
And maybe that God is loving, because look at this.
Look at this.
Remember that experience you had on your mission?
Remember that experience you had when you were baptized?"
I feel like I can say more than just "I choose to believe"
right now.
I feel like I have some type of conversion
and some type of testimony of the gospel that's
more than just a choice, right?
And that's based on the fruits of making that choice,
and then also some things I've learned along the way.
Grace, for me, are just those very little things
that have helped me to make the kind of choices
that will help me grow, flexibility to make and learn
from mistakes, having peace deep within me,
even when I don't understand everything, right?
We're told in the scriptures that we can have peace
that passes understanding.
And certainly, the amount of peace I have in my life
is not proportional to the amount of understanding I have,
because I have so many questions.
At the time of my crisis, I certainly wasn't thinking
of article of faith number nine, which reminds us that "we
believe all that God has revealed,
all that He does now reveal, ... that He will yet reveal many
great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom
of God."
Those great and important things--they're not tangential,
sidebar, footnote-type things.
They're great and important things.
And for me, that means we're going to have
great and important questions.
God can take the biggest train wrecks in our lives,
and He can make something beautiful out of them.
And I felt Him do that with this experience that I've had.