Free To Live
At the age of 21 I had nothing left to live for I grew up in a home where love could not exist; I was unlovable. My mother had tried to kill me before I was two. My adoptive parents, who were church leaders, had tortured me physically, sexually, and emotionally for years. Since the age of five I had begged the God of the universe every night to let me die. Each morning I was furious with God and convinced that he hated me too. I had vowed to hate God for the rest of my life. People that came into my life who loved me either died or disappeared.. I had already out lived my life expectancy for myself, by at least 10 years. My great grandfather who loved me more than life itself had just been denied food and water until he died, by his loving family who professed to be Christians. I had been married and divorced. I had already been homeless 3 times. Besides, If my adoptive parents were correct...I was the Anti-Christ, even God could not love me. If I checked out, I would just be saving God the trouble of the final showdown. I had the perfect plan to end my life. I called in a week of vacation at work. I bought as much cocaine as I could get my hands on, 3 bottles of sleeping pills and a 12 pack of beer. I would go to sleep never to wake up again. Apparently, God had other plans.By midnight I was wide-awake. My great grandfather was trying to convince me that my life was not over, that he loved me, and more importantly, that God loved me. He was sure that I would get my life straightened out one day. He hugged me and disappeared right before my eyes. I was furious! I screamed at God, “If grandpa is right and you do exist and you really do love me then you will have to send me to someone who can explain you to me where I would actually want to have something to do with you”. That was no small order.
Circumstances led me to leave Arkansas to move to Idaho. Little did I know that I would find myself in Mormonville, USA. Within months of moving to Idaho I met a friend whom I would later find out was Mormon. My daughter and I ended up living with this family. I was stressing over the way my life had turned out and was having a hard time handling the different pressures that life was throwing at me, when I asked my friend how she did it she offered to introduce me to a couple of young men who could explain it to me. Two days later I met a couple of missionaries. Within a week of meeting the missionaries I was sold on the idea of a do over. I had always thought that I had been dealt a rough hand and had wanted a chance to have a re-deal. The missionaries convinced me that this was my shot. They also had me completely sold on the idea of having a family forever. They just conveniently left out the fact that a single mom has no chance of having a family forever. Within weeks of my baptism I was ready to quit. It seemed like some well intentioned Mormon was always trying to speed up my growth by revealing a new part of the gospel that I was not ready to hear yet. I would get upset and ready to quit and the bishop would calmly talk me into taking the new principles on faith. The longer I was in the church the more disillusioned I got. I was looking for something more than what I saw in church. Each time I would try to convey this to the bishop he would say I would find what I was looking for in the Temple. The first time I went to the temple to do baptisms I felt like I had been there before. I had a neat time but I still was looking for something special, something meaningful. When I discussed this with the bishop he told me I needed my patriarchal blessing. I did what it took to get my recommend. The day I received my patriarchal blessing I was excited. God was going to tell me what it was he wanted from me. When I heard my patriarchal blessing I was disappointed. Most of the blessing concerned my past. Something that I wanted to forget. There was no magical formula about what I was supposed to do with the rest of my life like everyone had told me to expect. In fact looking back the twenty minutes we spent talking to the patriarch before the blessing gave him all the information that he needed to put into the blessing. Sort of like your psychics that the audience does not see the fact that they are searching for information to give back to the audience at just the right time to wow them with their so call psychic ability. When I talked to the bishop about my disappointment over the patriarchal blessing he was taken aback. He could not believe that anyone would not like their patriarchal blessing and he said that I would come to cherish it for the priceless treasure it was if I would only trust my heavenly father to lead me. Time went on and I was able to go to the Temple for myself. I was excited. I would finally be able to get all of the blessings of the temple for myself. When it was over I was thoroughly confused and just a lot creeped out. It was nothing like I had expected. I was not allowed to talk to anyone about it because of the vows I made in the temple. I was not ready to go back any time soon. Although I was not impressed with the temple…I did cherish the temple recommend because it took a complete change of my whole life in order to receive it. I would spend the next 4 years fighting the church. It is not that I though the church was evil. I just had a hard time with a religion that was supposed to honor God and Jesus but honored Joseph Smith and Brigham Young more. President Hinckley was looked up to like a god here on earth. It did not matter what he said it was gospel. I had a tough time with the idea of reverence being an action. To me it is a state of mind. During this time of fighting the church, In July, my father in law begged me to come see him, in Arkansas. My daughter and I loved seeing him again. He told me he knew that this was the last time I would see him alive. He told me that he was ready to die. I wanted to know why he was at peace with death and I was terrified of it. I couldn’t ask him, because I was afraid that it would be like giving my ok for him to die. I wanted to sit down and ask him all sorts of questions because I knew he was not a Mormon. If the Mormons were right,,,he was headed straight to hell because he was not a Mormon. How could he have peace? I was a Mormon and doing everything the Mormons said to do and I had anything but peace. 3 weeks later, Dad is Dead! I started to cry for the first time in over 30 years. God, why? Why dad? He was the closest thing to a dad I had ever known. You know he loved me! I couldn’t believe it, I had to drive 2000 miles to find out for myself. I was convinced I would get there and it would all be a bad joke. Standing over the casket I told God, “I had just decided to give you another chance and you did it again! I HATE YOU”! I was hurting worse than I had ever hurt in my life. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t die (God wouldn’t let me), and couldn’t live. I was torn between part of me hating God and the other part of me wanting the peace that dad had before he died. I was preoccupied with trying to find out if death was the end? I felt like a 37 year old child who had lost their only parent. I was lost, scared, and lonely. I drove back home resisting every urge to drive into a bridge at 90 miles an hour. I needed answers. I needed to talk to the bishop but this time I needed proof. I drove by the church and I waited for the bishop to get a free moment. We started talking. He had heard that I had been asking for answers from a pastor at work. Little did I know that this was going to be a confrontation and I was not prepared. The bishop wanted to know where I stood as far as the church was concerned. I took the bait and ran with it. During that meeting he had all the proof that he needed. I had serious questions about the church and I no longer believed that Joseph Smith was a prophet. I believed the Book of Mormon was a well concocted book and a figment of Joseph Smiths imagination and that he just used it and his outrageous beliefs to justify his perverse habits. I was on my way out and did not realize it. I agreed to a couple of meetings where church leaders would answer any questions that I had and show me proof in the Bible, then I would get back with the program and be a good little believing Mormon. The meeting was a farce. They had no intention of giving me proof or answering my questions. They ended up giving me their testimonies one by one in the hope that it would change my mind. When I did not show any emotion they realized that I was a hopeless cause. In the meantime I had started attending another church and had actually given my heart to Christ. I was excited with all the things that were happening. I was actually feeling a change inside of me. I started attending a bible study. One night I walked in and they were showing the Book of Mormon Versus The Bible. I was intrigued by the fact that it was made by Mormons to prove the book of Mormon was true. Halfway through the movie I began to feel sick. I was starting to see that what I had believed in the last 5 years was a lie. I was trying to hold onto something. If it was all a lie then where did that put me. My mew found faith in Christ was not strong enough to handle this. At this point I was not sure where Christ fit in to anything. All I knew was I could relate to the Mormon on the video that was fighting to hold in the tears. I felt like I had been punched in the gut and could not breathe and would never be able to breathe again. I was the only Mormon in the room and everyone knew it. I left that meeting with serious questions and serious doubts. I began to ask the pastor questions at an alarming rate. He was not a Mormon and was unsure of how to answer my questions. He told me to email one of the people that made the video. I was a new Christian holding onto the Mormon beliefs I had been taught over the last 5 years. I had already destroyed all of the church manuals that I had in my possession. I had given away all of the Mormon pictures, scriptures, and anything else that reminded me of the church. I was still holding onto my garments and my temple recommend. It just seemed wrong to get rid of them. It was not until I talked to a woman that the makers of the video put me in touch with that I finally decided to get rid of the garments and the temple recommend. As soon as I got rid of them my house and my life was peaceful for the first time in years. I am proud to say that I am no longer a Mormon! I ended up writing a letter to remove my name from the church roles. I got my letter from Salt Lake about a week later! I am saving that letter. That is now the prized possession. I am free to live my life without the Gestapo. I can worship the way I feel like worshiping without the long list of do’s and don’ts. Religion is not a chore anymore. God is not a force to be feared. Life is good!.