Gratitude for my faith

I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  I was born into this church and have attended almost every single day of my youth, including various chapels across the United States while my family and I were on vacation.

This isn't that unrealistic of a circumstance, considering I am from Utah where people like me are, well, everywhere.  But if there has been anything that I have truly gained a witness of, it's personal conversion.

My husband and I were married in the Salt Lake Temple with every intention of raising a family much like the one I grew up in.  Then a few years ago, S finally came to terms with something that has probably been there his whole life and that is that he just isn't convinced that the Church he was raised in is true.  It wasn't a sudden overnight thing, more gradual.  And I wasn't entirely surprised when he broke the news to me.  So this meant that he wouldn't be going to church with me anymore.  At all.

Naturally I was devastated.  Bean was only a year old and going to church with her by myself seemed like a daunting task.  Plus, I just didn't want to go to church by myself period.  As I was trying to sort out my feelings a story came quickly to my mind about a couple in a similar situation where the wife gave an ultimatum to the husband--either you start coming to church again or I'm leaving you.  I was so bothered by that story.  Talk about going for the wrong reasons!  I was determined to never, ever put S in that situation or remotely make him feel like I cared any less for him just because he chose to not worship how I did.

So Sunday morning would roll around and I would get up, get myself and Bean ready, and we would go.  By ourselves.  At first it was terribly awkward.  We had just moved into a new ward and I knew no one there so I already felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb.  Then a former neighbor ended up buying a house in our subdivision.  We started talking and she asked where S was and I told her he had decided to not come anymore.  There was almost something so relieving about this--like I was owning the situation and moving forward.  Honestly, if I hadn't had Bean as a motivation to go or talked to this neighbor (who has since become a very dear friend of mine) I'm not sure I could have even gotten up the courage to keep going myself.

I guess it was at this point that I started examining what it was that I believed.  As I mentioned I had always gone to church because it was what I was supposed to do.  Now I found myself in a position where hardly anyone knew me and I could just quietly slip under the radar, but I had a determination in me to not let that happen.  Again I think having Bean greatly motivated me to go but I suddenly found myself wanting to go to church and associate with these people.  And I found that my testimony was growing on it's own accord for, perhaps, the first time in my life.  Of course I have had several amazing experiences through my youth and teenage years that definitely laid a foundation, but it wasn't until I was going by myself because I truly wanted to that I really felt my testimony start to grow.

Naturally there are times that I, myself, have wondered if what I believe is true.  In fact, I was so exhausted just a few months ago thinking 'what if this isn't true and I'm just putting myself through a lot of headache and heartache for nothing' and then two weeks in a row we had the most amazing speakers in church who seemed to address very specific thoughts that I had very privately had.

The truth is that every day I can find small moments in my life where I know that my faith in the Gospel of Jesus Christ is confirmed, whether by an occurrence, something I read, or something I hear.  These really leave no room for any doubt in my mind.

So I am grateful.  Grateful for my faith and most grateful to have had the opportunity to build my faith on my own two feet.  I'm grateful that, even though he chooses not to go, S is more than supportive of me and our children going.  I don't know if S will ever go to church again and I've decided that it really doesn't matter because Heavenly Father has proven to me that he knows me (possibly better than I do) and that he knows S and that I am part of a bigger picture that I may not understand.  Yet.