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Read Part 1
Read Part 2
Well, we’ve come to the final leg of my journey. In the previous installment I made the decision to continue studying. Brent was not pleased, to say the least. I was told it was time to make a decision- him or Mormonism, because he could not stay in our marriage as it currently stood. I was angry. I told him time after time that I wouldn’t even be able to join the Mormon church without his permission. I wasn’t asking to be a member, I just wanted to figure out what I believed. He still patently refused to allow me to study. I had submitted to him our entire marriage, even obeying when he told me what I was allowed to watch, or what I could eat. The one time I needed to disobey for the sake of my conscience and well being, he couldn’t give in. I decided I could not continue to live like this.
We agreed to a divorce. I was to file, because divorce is forbidden at our church and I was getting excommunicated anyway. Shortly after our agreement, my excommunication went public. At my former church, excommunications are finalized in front of the entire congregation. The pastor spent about twenty minutes speaking about me, telling the congregation I was under the influence of a Mormon male and had abandoned my family. They were told that the elders had loved and pleaded with me to return, but I had refused. There instructions were to now treat me as an unbeliever. Any communication they had with me should be designed only to call me to repentance. I was ostracized.
My study took on a new intensity. I was so worried that I might be allowing my life to fall apart for a false religion. I needed to know NOW what was true. I read A LOT of material. Not only did I go through the entire Book of Mormon, but I read Articles of Faith, Jesus the Christ, The Inevitable Apostasy (probably the most helpful book to me), and countless talks that my friend Vicki would send me to try to help answer questions.
It was during one of these talks that I first experienced what I now understand to be the “burning of the bosom”. I would often get frustrated in my conversations with missionaries when they’d ask me questions such as, “How does that make you feel?” I kept thinking, “Who cares how I feel about it? All that matters is whether it is true. I can think something sounds wonderful, but that doesn’t make it true.” I was so frustrated. Plus, I came from a doctrinal background where feelings were taboo. Discernment was done strictly through the Scriptures. If the Bible says it, than it is true. Period. No feelings can verify anything. Having the Spirit affirm something was completely foreign to me. Gradually, the Lord helped me understand. Although revelation is something that I am coming to learn will be a lifelong process.
One of the first things that helped me, occurred while reading one of the talks my friend Vicki sent by email. I don’t even remember the topic of it. All I remember is standing at my computer, reading the talk, and feeling my whole chest burning in a way I will never forget. It was a beautiful feeling, and every ounce of me felt like the Spirit, or something, was affirming the words of the talk. The topic wasn’t new doctrine for me. Everything in that talk my former church would have agreed with. But, the experience was new for me, and was the beginning of me learning what it means to have the Holy Ghost commune with you.
The second big milestone for me occurred while reading The Inevitable Apostasy by Tad Callister. If you’ve never read that book, I highly recommend it. I knew there was an “elephant in the room” regarding Mormonism that I had yet to address….exaltation and godhood. I tried addressing it that first night I spoke with Neil about his faith. I asked him if he believed he would be a god. He didn’t answer my question (no big surprise there). Instead he asked me what would happen if he asked Dillon to play Tchaikovsky’s hardest concerto. I said it would be too discouraging for him. He said that is what would happen if I tried to understand deep doctrine, before getting the basics. To be honest, I wasn’t convinced. I thought he was avoiding answering me. But, I knew Neil well enough to know that if he didn’t want to deal with something, there was no point in continuing to try. So, I dropped it.
However, privately, I knew that would have to be addressed before I could make ANY decision regarding Mormonism. In the meantime, as I was praying and studying, I realized that I tended to read the scriptures through the lens of the theological interpretations I had been taught and personally developed. We all have bents and biases that affect how we interpret things, even our Scriptures. So, I began making a very conscious effort to re-read my scriptures with a blank slate. I tried to pretend I had no theological knowledge or background and was coming at the scriptures fresh. I was amazed at the difference in understanding you can have if you just took scripture for what it literally said, without spinning it through your preferred, or learned doctrinal preferences. That prepared me for what I was about to learn.
I was sitting on my couch reading Tad Callister’s book, when I got to a chapter on deification. It was amazing! He did such a great job taking you through the Scriptures and the ante-Nicene father’s writings in such a clear way. It opened up that doctrine for me in a way I had never previously understood. I also learned that the doctrine is not quite the same as what we are taught in anti-Mormon literature. However, it was still in its actual form quite different from anything I had ever been taught before. As I was sitting there, I suddenly said aloud, “I believe this.” And then I thought, “Oh no! I believe this.” I knew there was no turning back. I had to follow through and see if it was all true.
All during this time, I felt like I was on one of the scariest roller coaster rides of my life. I would read and study the scriptures and other books and really feel like things were true. Plus, I fell in love with the faith itself. It is so beautiful, so heavenly. So there I was riding the coaster up, feeling the tension the whole time between the two belief systems. Then, I could have a five-minute conversation with my husband and come plummeting down. I was terrified that he was right and I was falling for a cleverly-devised satanic deception. I was trapped between belief and fear.
If Brent was right, and I believed Mormonism, I would be condemned to an eternity in hell.
If Neil and Vicki were right, and I didn’t believe Mormonism, I would not know or obey God as He intended for us to know Him. I was being completely overcome by fear in both directions. And that was the state I was in when my husband moved out.
For the first time in over eighteen years, I was alone. I felt that way too. I was so scared. I had no means of support, four children I loved more than life itself, and I had no idea which theology was true. I think if I had an idea of who God really was it would have helped. At least it would have given me some direction in where to place my trust. At that moment I wasn’t sure who to trust. For three years I had prayed and studied faithfully (until forbidden). The missionaries had assured me if I prayed sincerely, God would tell me what was true. I could not understand why He didn’t answer. I was as sincere as it was possible for any human to be. Was there something wrong with me? Was I not good enough? Was I committing some sin I was unaware of that kept Him from answering me? I didn’t have any answers, and I really needed some fast.
I still remember my first weekend without my children. I had never really been without my children for any significant period of time before. In the eighteen years of our marriage, Brent (my ex) and I had been on a total of four dates, and they were short. The longest I had been away from any of my children were the times I was in labor having another one. Try as I might, I have a hard time counting that as time away.
I spent the entire weekend crying. I did NOT want to be alone, but no longer had any friendships to call on. Neil is not the comforting type, and Vicki had family obligations that weekend. Coincidentally, that was the same weekend as General Conference. I did try to watch some of the talks on my computer, but always ended up crying so much I couldn’t see or hear anything. I remember several of the talks being about trials, but was having a hard time applying them for some reason. To be completely honest, I was still afraid I had made a wrong decision by refusing to submit. What if it turned out Mormonism was not true and I had sacrificed everything for nothing?
Soon I started receiving letters from members of my former church. All calling me to repentance, and telling me I was taking myself and my children on a path to hell. It was very frustrating. Not one person was willing to hear my side of the story. They felt they knew all the information they needed from my excommunication announcement at church. When I ran into church members in a public arena, I was either ignored completely, or told to repent. Even the woman who had been my best friend for quite a few years, pretended we had never even met when we unexpectedly ran into each other. It was infuriating, but I had too much on my plate to focus on their behavior.
The next emotion to hit me was panic. How was I going to provide for my family? I didn’t even have a college degree. When Brent and I first married we were both going to school. Brent, however, made the suggestion that only one of us go at a time. Our agreement was that he would finish first, as he would be the primary breadwinner. When he was done, I could return. I agreed because, at the time, it seemed to make sense. The problem was he took seventeen years to go, and then quit with nothing left but his master’s thesis. As a result, I never got to return. Plus, there is NOTHING more important to me than my children. I did not want to give up raising and educating them. I needed to find a way to earn money and still be their mother.
To add fodder to my fear, all my math students were from my former church, with the exception of one family. All the families from my former church dropped my classes. I remember calling one of the mothers in desperation, begging her not to drop my class. I wasn’t teaching theology; I was teaching math. She absolutely refused, citing there was no way she would let her children study under me now that I was Mormon. I reminded her I wasn’t Mormon, I just felt I had the right to study it and examine my belief system. She told me I lacked character and this would be the last I heard from her. I was angry and afraid. In frustration I snapped back, asking her if it showed character to allow my children to starve because she didn’t agree with my theology? She hung up.
Her attitude was not uncommon. I heard the same things time and time again from the parents. They didn’t feel I would be a good influence on their children. On top of that, the general manager of one of the two magazines I wrote for every month was a former member of my old church. I thought because he was a former member, there wouldn’t be any issues, but once word of my excommunication leaked to him, suddenly there were no more articles available for me to write. I called and asked if I could do advertising sales, volunteering to work on straight commission. That would not cost him anything. He refused even that.
I spent nearly every waking minute trying to find ways to earn money and still raise my children, but was not having much success. At some point a couple of things began to work out. The other magazine I wrote for was also run by a woman from my former church, but she was kind of dependent on me. She decided to keep me on. That was at least some income. Then an acquaintance who owned a recording studio agreed to let me do some odd jobs for him, as they became available. With those two things, and me querying other magazines for work I should be able to squeak by. We’d need food stamps temporarily, but we would survive.
I began to relax, and could now focus on whether this church really was true, or if it was time for me to reserve my spot in hell. I decided it was time to take the next step. I was going to attend a Mormon church service. In order to take all precautions with my children, I waited until the next weekend they were with their father.
I was shaking like a leaf that first Sunday morning. I did not know anybody (Vicki and Neil attended a ward in a different city) and none of them knew me. It never even occurred to me to call that bishop that had contacted Neil those many months ago. When I went into the chapel, I sat quietly by myself and looked around at the people.
There was one woman in particular, Lanniece Lewis, who had the most radiant smile. Looking at her helped me relax a little. I spent the entire sacrament service praying, begging God not only to help me know what was true, but to help me know how to order my family correctly and provide for them. (Things had gotten a little out of control with the children while I was trying to drum up work). I was very concerned about order and provision.
The next significant memory of that day was Relief Society. My shaking was getting a little worse, and I felt very alone. One thing I remember very clearly was the practice hymn. They sang “Be Still My Soul.” I had never heard that hymn before, but my heart nearly leapt out of my chest when we sang the line: “Leave to thy God to order and provide”. That was exactly what I had been praying about just that morning. It made me feel like God was listening to my prayers. Maybe I would even know soon, whether or not the church was true.
The lesson ended up being on Joseph Smith and the trials and sacrifices he went through when he told people of his newfound faith. Tears began streaming down my face uncontrollably as they talked about Joseph’s struggles. There was something in his unshaken confidence I longed for. I wanted this church to be true. I thought it was beautiful, but I could not join a church on that alone. I would need to know that was what God wanted me to do. I wanted his confidence.
I was becoming more obvious (to my great dismay), as my sobs grew. I couldn’t stop the tears. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. I was so embarrassed. The teacher kept looking at me with compassion and I just didn’t know what to do. Finally, I raised my hand. I told the ladies I wanted so much to know if the church was true. Before I knew it, all the fear and agony came pouring out of my mouth. I told them everything. I told them I was scared. I wanted to know, if I was going to have to sacrifice everything, that it was for righteousness and not deception.
The ladies were so gracious. Many of them came up to embrace me and tell me why they knew the church to be true. Even if my testimony did not become sure as a result of their comments, it was at least comforting. I went home renewed in my efforts. I began studying with great vigor and began meeting with the missionaries. They came over at least once a week and would answer questions and eat dinner with us.
With my husband gone, there was no longer anyone telling me on a daily basis that Mormonism was a Satanic deception. Gradually, my fear began to lessen, which opened up my ability to feel assurance from the Spirit. We are told all the time that fear and faith cannot co-exist, but it is so hard to get rid of fear sometimes. At least it is for me. I began to long to get baptized, but was afraid that I could not without 100% assurance. One night after dinner, Elder Bird looked at me and said, “Annmarie, why haven’t you gotten baptized yet?” I replied I didn’t want to make God angry. I thought it would be hypocritical to get baptized without a 100% assurance and understanding.
Elder Bird replied, “Annmarie, I am a representative of God, and I can completely assure you that God will not be angry with you if you get baptized.” He then told me he felt led to read a verse to me. Turning to Ether 12:6, he read, “And now, I, Moroni, would speak somewhat concerning these things; I would show unto the world that faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith.” At first I cringed, “until after the trial of your faith”. Wasn’t this enough of a trial? Was there to be more before I received a further witness? Then, suddenly, it hit me. The trial for me is not having 100% knowledge. I’m the kind of person who wants ALL the information. I want to study everything out ahead of time. I would never go to a test unprepared, and what could be more important than eternity?
For me, the trial would be going forward without every piece of the puzzle put together. It occurred to me, I was doing to Mormonism what I would never have done to the Bible. I did not have to work out every verse in the Bible to believe it was true. I believed the Bible was true, because something told me it was. The same could be true of the Book of Mormon. So, I took a deep breath and said, “Ok. Let’s set a date.”
The days leading up to my baptism were ones of great excitement. I felt like a huge burden had been taken off my shoulders. I was excited and ready to go. Neil was going to baptize me, and Vicki would give a talk on baptism. I was thrilled. This day was going to be amazing. Anticipation was welling up inside me. For some reason though, when I woke up the morning of my baptism, I was overwhelmed with fear. What if I WAS being deceived? I was panicked. Desperately I picked up my Bible and prayed. My prayer went something like this, “God, I know this is really bad theology, but I need to be sure right now if I am doing the right thing. So, I am going to open my Bible. If I need to cancel my baptism, please show me in the Scriptures now.”
I opened up my Bible, and the first verse my eyes laid upon was, “Beware of false prophets.” My heart stopped. Then something said to read on, so I did. Later in the passage it said, “You shall know them by their fruit.” It was as simple as that. Peace flooded my soul. I have studied this faith and the life and teachings of Joseph Smith for years now, and I knew the fruit. I went to my baptism with 100% confidence. Something I never thought I would have. Nothing felt as good as being submerged in that water. I became a Mormon on May 9, 2009, and was confirmed on Mother’s Day, May 10th.
It hasn’t been easy since then. Several months ago, the magazine I wrote for on a monthly basis fired me. She was the majority of my income. I knew her attitude toward me had changed after I got baptized, but she was happy with my work, so I felt safe. Apparently she was biding her time until she found a replacement. Eventually, when she found one, she stopped assigning me articles. When I asked her about it, she said she needed someone with a college degree. She even admitted my writing was better than her new staff member.
My only guess, as I had not needed a degree previously, is that the pressure, or guilt, became too much for her to handle at church, and it was easier just to let me go. So, I’m back to square one in earning money.
There are other pressures too. It is hard being a single parent. I’m tired all the time, and at times the loneliness can be overwhelming. But, I can say with total assurance, that I am right where God wants me to be. I have learned so much in the last year, that my heart often feels like it is already in heaven. I have even gotten to take out my endowments. Of course, the realities of life quickly remind me I’m still in the telestial world, but I won’t always be. I love being Mormon.
