"That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake"

I was not going to write about this because of a few reasons that are very personal, but I had a powerful spiritual experience tonight prompting me to write about my week.

Ben has been out of town. Normally, when he goes out of town I get bitter and angry, which I think has to do with insecure attachment, triggers, and trauma. However, this time was different. I didn't feel that same anger or bitterness. I just accepted it and was determined to make it a good week.

Of course, that went to pot on Tuesday. I should've known the more I accept things, the more I will be challenged.

Tuesday night I found out Ben had relapsed. This hit me harder than I actually thought it would.

For one thing, we are experiencing a trial that we haven't experienced before: He is currently not allowed to exercise the priesthood. At all. Not even in the home (in the past, when he has been asked not to exercise the priesthood, he has been encouraged to still exercise the priesthood in the home). I can't remember when this happened, but it's been months. And I feel like our family has suffered from not being able to have Ben exercise the priesthood. For reasons I don't really want to explain right now, it's hard for me to reach out and ask someone else for a priesthood blessing, for either me or the little guy. I do when I feel like it's really super necessary, but if I think, "Well, maybe I'll pass this time," (which I have been thinking way more than I used to since I can't actually ask the man in my home), it turns into a lot of opportunities passed on.

Our bishop set certain dates/goals for Ben to help him work full activity in the church again. This Sunday (like, in two days) was supposed to be the one where if he could remain sober till this Sunday, he could start partaking of the sacrament again. He was so close. So close! And he next mark (I can't remember the spacing though) was for Priesthood, and the next one for the temple. I was way more devastated by the fact that this was a setback in him being able to exercise the priesthood again than by the details of acting out.

Anyway, it took a few hours to sink in. But then, when it did, I was a mess. A MESS. I reached out to my bishop, who happens to live across the street, asking for a blessing (I'm not sure I would have reached out to our home teachers in this circumstance, but I didn't have that option anyway because I have no clue who they are). It was pretty late, 10:00, so I decided if I had no response by 10:15, I would just go to bed. At 10:15, I had no response, so I sent him another text saying I was going to bed and not to worry about it.

That night, Baby Boy slept terribly. When he woke up at 12:15, I managed to get him back to sleep fairly quickly, but when he woke up at 4:30, all hell broke loose. No joke. We both spent much of the next two hours crying. And then two more hours crying/drugging ourselves with Mother Goose Club.

I asked God for strength to deal with it. But when I felt that strength waning and Satan starting to take over, I started begging, pleading with God to just let me get this kid to sleep. He needed sleep, I surely needed sleep. And I felt like I just knew that if I prayed/begged/pleaded enough, He would intervene. At 8:30, baby fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, and I did not feel like it was an answer to prayer. I felt bitter, angry, and violent (I did not do anything violent other than punch a wall. But I'm sure you have felt violent anger before...), and I felt like I was just an inch away from Satan taking complete control over me.

I didn't understand why God had abandoned me. Maybe He didn't, and when the kid fell asleep it was because of divine intervention. I didn't feel that way, though. I felt like I had done everything I could, and here I was with a fresh disclosure weighing me down and a child who wouldn't sleep (and I had been sick, so generally tired anyway). I felt like I knew my own limitations, and when I prayed for strength, I was doing okay. But when the strength faded and I prayed for sleep, I needed that help right then. Why it took two more hours for that prayer to be answered, I don't know. But I felt abandoned. I felt on the verge of Satan taking over, and I didn't understand why God had let it go that far when so much pain could have been avoided if He had helped when I called out.

And then, my bishop never reached out to me. He knew about the disclosure, and he knew Ben was out of town. I just thought, surely he would reach out to me to check on me and make sure I was okay after the text I had sent him the night before. And I thought, if God loves me, He will prompt my bishop to come visit with me. But nothing. He has told us multiple times to reach out to him any time, and many times, our reaching out has gone completely unanswered. So, that felt like yet another way I was abandoned by God. I was too hurt to reach out to him again.

Some other ridiculously stupid stuff happened on Wednesday that made me feel like the day was just hilariously terrible (but I was smiling by the end of the day), and I had worked through my feelings so I no longer felt bitter, angry, or abandoned. Confused, yes, but okay. I seriously went through a period of thinking I should just go inactive because maybe the bishop would pay more attention if I was an inactive member of the ward who reached out.  I also considered this option just out of pure spite. But, in the end, I knew that would be a poor choice and I just tried to accept the week's happenings and move on with my life.

Yesterday (Thursday), so many things happened that showed me God had not abandoned me. I just felt strong, capable, and loved. I sent up a lot of prayers of gratitude.

But what happened tonight is the sole purpose of everything else I have written.

This week has been exhausting, to say the least. Beautiful, but exhausting. Tonight, I got the little one in bed and sat on the couch wondering what to do first. I had promised myself earlier in the day that I WOULD do gospel study tonight, but the time came and I just felt so exhausted that all I wanted to do was veg. But, I chose to read a talk from general conference entitled "I Am A Child of God" by Elder Donald L. Hallstrom (read it here). I didn't get to pay enough attention to conference last weekend, so I've been studying the talks throughout the week. And this one, well, this was perfectly timed to come across today.

Words cannot even describe how beautiful this talk is. I highly encourage everyone to study it and let the Spirit speak to you in whatever way you need. But I want to share a couple quotes that particularly spoke to me:

In real life, we face actual, not imagined, hardships. There is pain—physical, emotional, and spiritual. There are heartbreaks when circumstances are very different from what we had anticipated. There is injustice when we do not seem to deserve our situation. There are disappointments when someone we trusted failed us. There are health and financial setbacks that can be disorienting. There may be times of question when a matter of doctrine or history is beyond our current understanding.

When difficult things occur in our lives, what is our immediate response? Is it confusion or doubt or spiritual withdrawal? Is it a blow to our faith? Do we blame God or others for our circumstances? Or is our first response to remember who we are—that we are children of a loving God? Is that coupled with an absolute trust that He allows some earthly suffering because He knows it will bless us, like a refiner’s fire, to become like Him and to gain our eternal inheritance?

Recently, I was in a meeting with Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. In teaching the principle that mortal life can be agonizing but our hardships have eternal purpose—even if we do not understand it at the time—Elder Holland said, “You can have what you want, or you can have something better.”

and the last verse of "How Firm a Foundation"

The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose
I will not, I cannot, desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, I’ll never, no never,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake!

These words spoke to me. They reminded me that I cannot see all, but God can. I don't know why I'm going through all the trials I am right now (there are more than I have just written about). Sometimes I feel like I am suffering so much in so many different ways, and I wonder why I can't just have a "normal" life--whatever that is. Why do I have to keep trying so hard all the time? Why can't I just have some peace...like my husband could go out of town, sure, but even if he had to relapse, couldn't I just have a baby who slept through the night he relapsed instead of waking up and being crazy when I'm exhausted and in trauma? Can't I catch a break?

But the reality is, after the 24 hours where pretty much everything went wrong, I had chosen God's path. And I felt peace and the knowledge that things were okay even though I didn't understand why I was experiencing what I did. And, two days after that first 24 hours, I have seen so much more light. We truly can't experience the light until we have experienced the darkness. I caught myself expressing gratitude for my trials on Wednesday. I didn't even know why I felt grateful, but I knew there had to be a divine purpose. There is. There always is. 

Light Peeking Through the Cracks

Source

I recently decided to study the LDS church's family support program on my own. Getting to meetings is hard. I like to go when I can, but sometimes life just gets in the way, and attending in-person meetings is just not a priority for my recovery right now.

I love this program. I LOVE it.

The first principle is called "God Will Console Us in Our Afflictions." As I've studied this principle, I've felt a lot of peace come to me. It's been perfectly timed because I'm really triggered by an upcoming trip Ben is taking for work.

Today I studied this talk.

It solidified in me this feeling that Ben's addiction is not my fault. It is not related to me in any way. I've struggled with this idea because the first time he acted out in our marriage was some kind of twisted revenge against me. Yeah. So when people say the addiction isn't related to me, sometimes in my head I'm like "Well, how can you be so sure? Because actually, it is about me."

That line of thinking comes and goes. But lately, I've been realizing just how much I have carried a victim mentality through this and how that mentality has affected me in every aspect of my life. I am working hard to rid myself of that mentality and live my life with a free spirit.

I'm finding myself again, and it's beautiful.

This talk I studied was a good reminder of what addiction is and how it impacts agency. It helped me feel a little less mad at my 29-year old husband for what he has *done* to us and feel a bit more empathy for the child who was deceived by Satan, the child who had some major things he was dealing with and numbed through addiction. That empathy has been lost in my anger.

We are on a rough road. But as I've been trying to demolish my victim mentality, something has come alive in me that I've been yearning for but haven't figured out how to attain: LOVE. Love for everyone, really. But most importantly, a love for Ben. When I'm not super angry at him all the time, or more accurately, when I'm not looking for reasons to be super angry at him all the time, it's much easier to see the good things in our relationship and in his spirit. That is important because he is not defined by his addiction. But sometimes I define him by his addiction.

Obviously we still have a long way to go, and it would be much easier if he could get into solid recovery. I still have hope that he can and will, and I still have hope for our family. But right now, I am finding light that I haven't seen in a long while, and it feels good.

Giving thanks

A few weeks ago, Ben and I started setting goals with each other on Sundays. We strive to achieve the goal, and if he makes his goal, I get to give him some kind of reward (ex: I gave him a jar of salsa for the first goal he made... "You're on fire!"). It's a fun little thing we are doing that helps us with communication, among other things.

Last week my goal was to give Ben sincere thanks for something at least twice per day.

Some days were really hard. Because I've been really struggling with anger lately. I've been holding grudges about little things that really aren't that important. I didn't know how to stop it, though. My anger has been starting to hold on to me like an addiction. So, needless to say, it was difficult to give thanks every day when my mind started hooking on the little things that have been irritating me. Sometimes it seems so much easier to just be angry.

However, keeping my eyes peeled for something I could sincerely thank Ben for every day was a good exercise for me. Since that was my goal (and I'm motivated by goals), I wanted to achieve it. I looked hard for those things to thank him for every day. All day. The little things that bothered me were still there, but I could let go of them easier because I needed to find something to thank him for, and I needed to be sincere about it.

Some days I couldn't find my second item of thanks until pretty late in the day. But that's okay.

Now that it's not my goal for the week, I can feel myself going back inside myself with the potential for the anger to sit and fester again. I'm going to try to not let that happen. I want our relationship to be okay, and I know not everything is his fault. I'm not perfect either. It's important to try to move past the little things and give thanks for the good things that do positively impact me.

I felt a slight change of heart last week as I did this exercise. I felt more light and more receptive to Spirit. I don't want to let go of that, so I'm still going to try to focus on gratitude this week.

Sometimes I feel like my heart is hard and tiny these days. But as I give thanks, my heart seems to grow a bit bigger, and the door opens to an abundance of positive light, emotions, and energy. 

Credit

Living While Broken

Since Camp Scabs (well, even before, but I've just been avoiding this), I've been thinking a lot. Mainly, I've been thinking about Ben's addiction, our lives now, and the baby coming.

Hearing everyone's stories was both beautiful and triggering. Rehashing my own story was also both beautiful and triggering. I am not fully recovered, nor do I know if I ever will be. The pain I have felt will always be a part of me. Thus, feeling pain through empathy with others' stories along with my own is, well, painful. It serves as a reminder of what we've gone through--the lies and betrayal that have made up our marriage--and it causes me to question things right now. I have so many fears about the present and the future. And if I think too hard, those things totally bring me down.

When Camp Scabs ended, I was terrified to come home. Ben hadn't confessed anything, but I had this paralyzing fear he was omitting details. When I finally straight-up asked him if he acted out while I was gone, he said no. That means this was the first time in a long time, possibly ever, that we had been apart and he hadn't acted out. Another proof of the progress being made (or the lies being told, but really, I believe in his progress. My doubts, however, are a sign of the trauma and pain I have suffered).

I'm trying to think/process/deal with the emotions and fears that I'm experiencing. Things are not perfect. We are broken, but that is a consequence of living this life. We are all a little broken. Learning to live while broken, along with learning how to mend the pieces, are blessings I am discovering. I know pushing away the hard emotions only causes them to build up and explode. I'm coming out of a darkness and numbing period and finally learning how to live again. I occasionally numb again. But overall, I'm dealing and living, which is huge progress on my part.

I want to take a moment to say overall, things are really great. Because of the past, we still have struggles. I think that is an obvious consequence of the actions that have taken place in our relationship. We are both working through things and striving to make ourselves and our relationship better.

It's kind of amazing to think about where we are now versus six months ago, nine months ago, a year ago, two years ago, or three years ago. I have grown up a lot since we were married four years ago and since learning of the addiction three and a half years ago. So has Ben.

Because of the changes I have seen, I have true hope for our futures. I also love him in a way I never have before. We have laid everything on the line in our relationship. We know pretty much everything there is to know about one another (of course, we are still learning and discovering things, as one does in marriage). I know there are still trials ahead, although I secretly believe God could maybe take into consideration that we have possibly met our trial quota for life. Okay, just kidding. But seriously.

We are both a little broken. We both experience negative emotions and triggers. But we talk about those things. We are learning to be transparent with each other. We are learning how to support each other and be on the same team--a marriage--rather than fighting addict vs. non-addict.

I see the fears I experience and try to remember they are not of God. The hope and light I feel--those are from God. Of course, the fears and insecurities I feel are natural results of choices made by my husband in our marriage. However, he is currently making big changes, and I can't ignore those in the name of fear. The primary thing I see in our marriage right now is hope and light. THAT is from God. Balancing the fears and hope is tricky. But I'm trying to do it. I have some better days than other, but holy cow, we are making progress. I am so grateful for that.

I was given the book Carry On, Warrior for my birthday. I'm only 38 pages in, but I'm in love. Glennon's story validates me. The things she writes validate me. Starting it this week, after the vulnerability of last weekend and the pain of Ben's most recent relapse, has helped me see a little more clearly. While we are both broken, together, and with God, we can make this work. It's hard work, but doable. And isn't that what life is about? It wasn't meant to be easy. If it were easy, it wouldn't be worth it. We wouldn't grow. We wouldn't feel. We wouldn't learn. We would just be, with none of the greatness of being.

Life is an adventure. With God, there is more peace to be found and guidance along the way, but life is still hard. We can do hard things. We are warriors. And now we have each other. Working together is beautiful. Seriously. I'm grateful Ben and I are now working together rather than against each other as we have in the past. That's one thing I am not taking for granted and feel incredibly blessed to have.

The brightest of lights

I have so much to say. So many thoughts rambling through my head, and I'm not quite sure how to express what is going on.

Two completely opposite emotions are raging inside me: joy and depression. I've written about my depression a little bit (last week), but I'm wanting to be more specific. I'll probably have to split this into multiple posts.

I'm experiencing a tremendous amount of joy. That's because I'm pregnant! And because my relationship with Ben is in a crazy high place and trust is flooding back in.

Now we can all cheer because, holy crap, I'm pregnant! 

I haven't written about it on this blog because now that my recovery and healing is mixed with my "real" life, I couldn't bring myself to discuss the matter here. Too much at stake. I've had a lot of fears about miscarrying, which would take a huge toll on both Ben and me in a lot of ways, and I didn't want everyone in that business. Some things just need to be my business for a time.

However, once I was able to bust through those fears, I decided I wanted to share this part of my story even though I'm only 10 weeks. Because this is huge. This is a significant part of our story, and I felt very strongly over the weekend that now is the time it needs to be shared.

I've written a little about my faith crisis. I'm still struggling, and I don't expect it to be resolved or go away very easily. That's okay because in reality, I'm finding that working through a faith crisis is a beautiful thing (or at least, I keep telling myself that). Anyway, when we found out I am pregnant, it came as a complete shock (and has provided some healing to parts of my faith crisis).

I mean, seriously. We reached a LOW this year. A major low. Divorce became an real option. Damage had been done, and there was much to work through and sort out. When I quit my job early and moved to Texas, it was on complete faith in God. I loved my job. I still miss it. But I felt that taking care of us and paving the way to healing, not only for us, but for our future family, was the most important thing we could do.

People knew of our situation. People knew we had also struggled with infertility. I was warned by a handful of people to be careful not to rush into baby-making when we were so fragile (I even experienced that advice after knowing I was pregnant, while no one else knew). I had that mindset of warning and care-taking. And I was careful, but I also followed the spirit.

When I had the idea that we needed to start over to heal our relationship, I know it was revelation from God. So we dated and took physical intimacy off the table for a while. We gradually worked our way to intimacy and were eventually led to a point where we both felt fairly safe. I knew we would not be divorcing any time soon (or ever...hopefully). Divorce was no longer on the radar. Family was. Family and healing became priority, and they seemed to come together. 

I took the matter to the Lord. After all, He had not let me down. And eventually (or quickly), I was pregnant.

It did come as a shock. After all this time, after all the battles we have faced, I was not anticipating this one being resolved so quickly and with no medical intervention. Tender mercy. God's timing.

Being pregnant has been really hard. I thought since my life has had so many challenges anyway, I deserved to have an easy pregnancy whenever it should eventually happen. That has not been the case. Pregnancy has not been easy, but that's okay. I've seen God's hand in all of this. And maybe that's why it's not easy. Because if I didn't have to pay attention to that kind of stuff, I wouldn't actually know what God was doing with my life.

For one thing, the timing on this is amazing. I mean, words cannot even express the joy both Ben and I feel with the fact that we are welcoming in a little one soon. That joy has brought us so much closer together, and the timing on that is perfect because we need this. We need this joy and this love we are experiencing after all the hell we have been through. Some people say that having a pregnancy and baby will cause more problems, and I know that is true in its own way. It will be hard. I am positive of that. But it's taking a positive emotional turn on our relationship, rather than a negative one.

Here's why:

Ben has been given countless opportunities to serve me. And, I just feel weak and pathetic because of how sick I am. It's been hard and kind of a shot at my ego and pride to have to lean on him for everything. But he does it, willingly and graciously. He listens to me complain about having no food to eat because I have thrown up most of my options. He does dishes. He holds me when I cry because it's so hard being so sick. He makes an effort to spend time with me when he is stressed about work and could be spending that time working. And he lets me eat all the ice cream.

I'm seeing the Ben I married emerge. The Ben who has been lost because of the addiction. The kind, gentle, selfless man who I was lucky enough to snag. The guy that every girl would be jealous to have because he is that great. That's the guy who is present in our marriage right now.

I'm learning to trust him again. I mean, I already trusted him enough to carry his child. But there are different kinds of healing of trust that needed to take place, and they are. They are.

While I'm sick and feel icky and gross much of the time, this pregnancy has provided much emotional healing. And I feel so grateful for it.

I know it's God's timing. I see it. I see it manifested in so many ways, and words cannot even express what that does for me.

I know I needed to leave Arkansas when I did. At the time, our relationship was only getting worse, and we needed to heal. Had I spent more time there, it would have gotten way worse--to what point, I'm not exactly sure. But I know it would have gotten worse, and the road to healing would have been much harder to bear. I know I would not be pregnant. And this joy we both feel, and the peace we are experiencing in our marriage right now, would be nonexistent. I know that. And that is how I know God has had His hand in all of this. The entire time. He knew exactly when we needed a child. He knew exactly what we needed to grow. Our trials are not over, but as I put my trust in God and see how perfect His plan is, it gets easier to trust Him all the more.

This is beautiful to me. The challenges Ben and I have faced have been horrible. Yet, from the darkness and horrors can emerge beauty. I'm keeping my eyes open to the beauty. I am trying to be find things to be grateful for every day, and I'm finding that my life is not at all what I imagined. It's better.

I know that sounds so cheesy and silly. And maybe to people who are in the thick of the hell the addiction brings, that may feel like, "Yeah, yeah, let's see how things are in a year. Maybe it won't feel so beautiful." And maybe that's true. But I have found that when I face the darkest of darks, I eventually experience the brightest of lights.

I have so much hope for the future. The addiction isn't resolved. It will always be a problem. But because of times like this, I can see the true potential of my eternal marriage, and I know that somehow, no matter what, things will be okay. [Even if it were to end in divorce some day. No matter what, I know God is guiding me.]


ANDDD I'll get to the rest of what I was going to write later. After writing about and reminding myself of all the joy, I no longer feel inclined to write about the depression. Plus, this post is pretty long anyway.

Hold on to What You Know

My heart is so filled. I don't really know what I was expecting with my last post and hitting "share" on Facebook, but the response has been overwhelmingly beautiful. Thank you to everyone who was courageous enough to share my post. Thank you for everyone who was courageous enough to reach out to me (or others) and Ben. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are fighting with us!

Credit

Yesterday, I talked to a dear friend on the phone for a very long time. It was the first time in years that we have been able to talk with so much vulnerability. I was brought to tears as I expressed my love for her, talked about my story, and the reasons why I hadn't been able to tell her. She, like many other people who have contacted me in the last couple of days, spoke of how my faith has been so touching.

Here's the thing. I don't feel like I am outstanding in any way. I don't feel like my faith is exceptionally strong, either. In fact, I want to tell you something:

I have really struggled with a faith crisis because of this. I have especially struggled over the past month, specifically since my episode with my bishop. That happened after the Togetherness Project, and while there, I had heard other horrible stories about church leaders. It all shook me to the core. How could men of the church be so cold and not understanding? And how could God let this happen to us? We didn't ask for this. My life is full of beautiful women, struggling to keep their life together because of this plague. Why can't God make this a little easier on us? You can see a little bit of my faith crisis coming through in this post, but it has run even deeper than just this.

So many times throughout this experience, I have been completely clouded in darkness. And you know what? I now understand why people would choose to leave the church, any church, and choose to not believe in God. It almost seems easier that way. It's so easy to forget the light and just sit in an angry fit of rage (Believe me, I've done it. And it's also made me miserable, and it's been that much harder to reach for the light again when I realized darkness was not what I wanted. Once you sit in darkness, the hole gets deeper. And maybe you don't want to crawl out. Or maybe it's just hard). And then, it's easy to just move on. I have seen so many women who have left the church or chosen not to believe in God, and they say they are so much happier. I have envied them little bit.

But I can't do that. Last week I thought long and hard about this, my faith crisis. I have a friend who found out just after the Togetherness Project (which she attended because she really connected with all of us, and I thank God that she did) that her ex-husband was addicted to pornography. It sent her spiraling. As we talked on the phone about it, and she was really struggling, I said, "Wendy, hold on to what you know." I'm so glad I said that to her because she has now said that to me several times, and it keeps me going.

Because of revelation I have received, because of the light I have felt, and because I feel that I truly know God and Jesus Christ, I just can't choose to leave my church or God. I know too much.

I know that God lives. I know I have a loving Father in Heaven who is just as distraught as I am that this is happening to me. He doesn't want to see me in pain, but He is letting me work through it and find my path to Him. He has given me tools to get there. He has a plan, and I am trying to follow it. As I follow His guidance, I will find joy and happiness in the process of returning to Him. Most importantly, my Father has provided me with a Savior. I know this. I know I can lean on Jesus Christ not only to repent when I do wrong, but also to protect me, guide me, and give me healing for the pains I am suffering.

I am holding on to that. I am clinging to what I know.

I also know without a doubt that the Book of Mormon is true. Reading it has changed me, especially this time around. I finished it earlier this year and immediately started over. And since I started over, I have found so much to be applicable to my life and my journey to find Christ (and since I started over is when all hell broke loose in our marriage, so it was even more crucial for me to find the stuff I'm finding in that book). I can't deny that. I can't deny what I know. And that is why I can't let it go.

I have been able to see through this pain to know that God has a plan for me. I have tried so hard to stay close to him (except for when I haven't). Going "public" with my blog was a really scary thing. But, like I said, it's been beautiful. I feel truly humbled. I have incredibly seen how God has, in fact, been guiding me to this point. Had we not followed the prompting to share our stories, I wouldn't have met so many amazing people. And those who have come to me in complete gratitude would not have been touched the way they were.

I'm sincerely not saying any of this to brag. I am just completely in awe of how God has allowed me to be His servant and a hand of light for Him. Because of all of you, I feel even more inspired to continue staying on the path that I am walking. I am grateful to YOU for how you have touched my life.


I know what I have said in this post could be controversial to some. I wouldn't want anyone to think I am being self-righteous or judge those who have left the church (any church) or chosen to not believe in God. I respect everyone's ability to choose for themselves, and I certainly don't judge anyone for making choices they have made in efforts to come to peace with their life. This is just my story and my testimony. Please respect what I have to say as much as I respect what you have to say.

An Unexpected Lesson Learned

On Thursday night I went visiting teaching. If you aren't LDS (Mormon), I'll give you a little background. If you are, feel free to skip this part.

In our church, we have a women's organization called the Relief Society. There are three purposes of this organization: 1) Increase faith and personal righteousness, 2) Strengthen families and homes, and 3) Seek out and help those in need. As part of fulfilling those purposes, we have what is called visiting teaching. To put it simply, we are assigned a companion (there is power and strength in numbers) and are asked to visit specific women in our congregation each month. As we visit these women, we focus on meeting their needs (physical, emotional, etc.) and being a spiritual strength to one another. Ideally, we become friends who really and truly care about one another. When visiting teaching is done right, it is a very fulfilling and uplifting experience on all sides and a truly inspired program.

This month I was assigned a new companion and my list of people to visit changed. I went with my companion to visit a lady who hadn't had visiting teachers come in a long time, and she also hasn't come to church in a long time. We were a little nervous to visit her, but we had an amazingly fantastic visit. I could write tons about what I learned just about the process of visiting teaching that night, but that's not what I'm writing about. I want to write about what I learned about hardships, strength, and vulnerability from this particular visit.

In this post, I will refer to my companion as Ashley and the lady we were visiting as Melissa (not their real names).

As we chatted and to get to know one another, Ashley said, "Melissa, I want to know what has been your hardest trial along with your greatest success in the past month." Melissa thought for a second, but she didn't come up with anything right away (and let's be honest, she probably felt very on the spot). Ashley asked me if I would start. I thought for a second, and then I felt the Spirit burn within my heart, and I shared a very recent story that I will summarize here:

You all know that I've had a hard time lately. Ben recently moved to TX to start his new job, and I've been back in Arkansas fulfilling my responsibilities at school (and learning about more porn, more lies, and having very uncomfortable disclosures, so...). To say it has been hard is minimal. The past month has been among the most hellish of any month since I've been married and have faced the world of porn and infidelity. I didn't go into details with Ashley and Melissa about what is going on in my marriage other than simply saying we are having a really hard time, and he has done some pretty bad things to our relationship, and I would be warranted in getting a divorce if I really wanted to right now. So with that and everything that has happened recently, I've put a lot of thought and prayer in making a HUGE decision. That decision was to resign from my teaching job. Teaching has been my dream since as long as I can remember. But because I've been so depressed this whole school year, and I've given so much time and energy to my school and my students, and because my relationship with my husband is suffering so badly (along with other stressors such as finances, medical, infertility, and so on), I feel that I have to quit right now. It's brought a lot of heartache and mourning (but as my counselor-friend pointed out just yesterday, I need to mourn this stuff and also realize that mourning is different from regret. I don't regret my decision, I'm just mourning my losses right now). Making the decision to quit and move to TX at the end of this month is one of the hardest decisions I've ever made. Telling my principal was one of the hardest things I've ever done. And I'm anticipating something even harder: telling my students. They will be heartbroken because, not to brag or anything, they love me. I'm a great teacher, and I have a way with teenagers. I love them, and they love me. So this is just really hard.

But this exhaustingly hard experience has also been my greatest strength this month. I feel strong in the process I've taken to make this decision. I feel strong in my faith in God and my ability to follow His plan and give my will over to Him. I know I'm doing the right thing for God, my future, my relationship with Ben, and my mental/emotional health. I know I need time right now, and I don't have that time while I'm giving my all to my students.

I feel strength surging through me. I know God is giving me strength and peace as I take these baby steps closer to Him. I know without a doubt I am doing the right thing even though it is scary and hard.

As I talked to these women about my hardship and strength, we all felt the Spirit very strongly in the room. As Ashley and Melissa both told their stories, I discovered something. I've already known this, but it was  very validated by the Spirit that night: Our hardest times can lead to our greatest strengths and the greatest blessings. Both Ashley and Melissa's hardest trial and greatest strength were related, just as mine were. I thought it was amazing how each one of us were thinking of two stories to share--one hard and one strengthening--and we all three ended up sharing one story that incorporated both of those elements.

It's true that our hardest times can lead to our greatest strengths and blessings. Haven't I seen that over and over? Because of this trial (the porn crap) in my life, I have gained strength I never knew was possible at my young age. I have a strong testimony of and strength in the Atonement. I have strong faith and ability to understand the Spirit and follow God's will. I'm not perfect by any means, but I know I have grown in insane amounts over the past three years. This trial has also given me great blessings, not only in my strength, but particularly in the friendships I have formed as I have sought healing. And a stronger vulnerability in my marriage. Stronger hope in my marriage. Stronger understanding of the gospel. Everything good is directly related to the bad and hard. I can't hate this experience because if I hated it or wished it away, I wouldn't have all the good I have now.

I said at the beginning of this post that my visiting teaching experience on Thursday taught me about hardships, strength, and vulnerability. Here is what I learned about vulnerability: Vulnerability is crucial. It's simple, but listen to how I learned it.

As I said, Ashley and I didn't know Melissa at all. She hadn't been to church in a long time, and she hadn't had any visiting teachers visit her in an even longer time. We started with small talk and asking the usual questions. But then Ashley boldly expressed very real things. She talked about her "pet peeves" with visiting teaching and promised Melissa that she would not be that kind of visiting teacher to her. As she talked, she said, "We are now officially friends. I'm not ever going to ask you what we can do for you when we visit you. Because we are friends, and when friends are in need, we tell each other. And when we think our friends are in need and they haven't told us, we act on it anyway." As she talked, both Melissa and I cried because of the spirit and light Ashley carried as she was vulnerable with Melissa. With that vulnerability, we all had an instant bond and an increase in trust.

The other part that taught me about vulnerability was the question Ashley asked during the "getting to know you" chatting: "Tell me about your hardest trial and your greatest strength in the past month." That opened up a very honest, vulnerable, and spiritual conversation. We got to know one another on a much deeper level than I have ever experienced on a first visiting teaching visit. I left that house feeling a bond with both Ashley and Melissa. I left feeling trust, not only in them, but in God.

I'm working on vulnerability in my marriage. It's hard because my trust has not just been broken, it's been shattered. But I'm finding as I am vulnerable with my husband, even in the smallest ways, it mends something broken in our relationship.

There is power in vulnerability. Granted, it's hard. It's so hard to be vulnerable, open, and honest when your husband has been a liar and a sneak. There are many levels of vulnerability, and it works best when both people are vulnerable with one another. Right now I'm being a surface level of vulnerability with my husband. But I know that our relationship can't grow stronger without that vulnerability. As we are both vulnerable, I feel things mending and strengthening, and it gives me hope for my marriage in the future.

This visit taught me a great lesson. Sure things are hard right now, but I am counting my blessings. And sure, sometimes I have no clue what to do with my relationship with Ben, but I have tools to use, and I'm learning the power of vulnerability. Things are good. They are hard, but they really are beautiful.

He is Near

This week has been amazing. And by amazing, I mean it amazes me how horribly hard this week has been. It's amazed me how much worse this addiction impacts my life than I thought it did. My husband has amazed me--in a really awful kind of way--twice this week.

But it has amazed me how much light, peace, and beauty can be found in such a time as this.

I'm not here to rag on my husband. I'm not here to tell you about the recent horrible disclosure and how I don't know when I will be able to trust him fully again. I'm not here to tell you about the many tears shed this week, and how I've been just going through the motions every day. And I'm not here to tell you that I hate him and want a divorce (because I don't, by the way).

I'm here to tell you that God has a plan for each of us. I'm here to tell you that God loves me, and He loves you more than you can imagine. I'm here to tell you that you are not alone. You're never alone. He is always there. Sometimes you can't feel Him. Sometimes the darkness seems so thick that it is all you can do to lift your head up, look forward, and hold on to something. Sometimes you want to scream and break things. You want to run and hide. You want to cry your eyeballs out, eat some brownies, and cry some more.

That's okay. He is still with you.

In many ways, my life is falling apart all around me. But one thing is constant: God. He has circled me with His arms in love many times. He has whispered promptings. He has sent angels of mercy to look after me and make sure I'm okay. He has surrounded me with clouds of love, and the love I have felt from on High this week has been so powerful, that I am in tears as I write this.

He loves me. He really, truly, loves me.

He holds me.

He carries me.

I'm not alone in my pain. He has felt it, and He aches for the suffering I am enduring because of my husband. But He has blessed me with grace and mercy, and I am finding this to be an opportunity. I have an opportunity to grow closer to my Father and Elder Brother. I have an opportunity to feel light and share it with others around me. I have an opportunity to trust in the most divine Being and learn how He can really catch me when I fall. I have an opportunity to reach out to others and share my testimony of God's love.

I'm grateful for the strength I am gaining. I am grateful for the faith, understanding, and perspective I am gaining. I am grateful for charity. I am grateful for hope. I am grateful for peace. I am grateful for angels, both in Heaven and on Earth.

I am grateful for my Savior, for it is through Him that I know I can be saved. And it is through Him that I know my husband can be saved. It is through Him that I know I will make it through this experience. And it is through Him that I will be able to forgive and trust my husband again one day.

This is how I described how I feel in my journal this morning:

"I will be okay. I have felt immeasurable amounts of love this week. I know I am being carried by God. I don't know exactly how to describe it, but I hope I can remember this feeling forever. It's like I'm floating on treacherous waves, and God has reached His hand out to pull me up onto the raft. On this raft is the only speck of sun. The sun is shining down on me because He is with me, and in that spot, the water is calm. I know the tossing waves won't throw me off the raft because He has given me peace in my exact landing spot.

"I know I'm not alone. I see it in the love everyone is showing me right now. I see it in the concern of friends volunteering to do anything for me. I see it in my dog who loves me. I see it in my little sister. I see it in the scriptures, and the things I am learning. I see it in the Mormon Messages I watch. I see it in words of the apostles. 

"I feel His love all around me. I know He is guiding our lives. I also know He wants us to succeed, and He won't give up on us. I know I am nothing without Him. He allows me to do all I need to do. I am alive in Him. I am alive because He wants me to be. He is lifting me up. He has never left me, and He never will. I know that. I hope I can hang on to that for the rest of my life."

God has a plan for each of us. I know that the stuff that has happened this week needed to happen. I'm seeing many things fit together and how they have all been part of the plan to get us where we need to go. We do have our agency, but if we can use that agency to do God's will, the plan will work out. If we follow God, we will reach our potential. 

I fear the pain of the road ahead. I could give up now, but I'm not going to. I know that right now, all I am supposed to do is take care of myself, and let God take care of the rest. He will protect me as I travel this road. 

And I hope for the beauty that my marriage can be. I can see it clearly. I really can see it. There is a goal in sight, and that is helping me hang on. 

Look for God's love. It is there, but sometimes we get so depressed that we forget to actually see it and let it envelope our hearts. Look for it. Embrace Him, and you will find that He has already been embracing you.

Hell Week’s Gift: Understanding

Words can’t even describe the past week. I’ve been majorly depressed, but it’s been really weird because I’ve had some moments of extreme happiness too. It’s been an emotional roller coaster if I’ve ever seen one.

During this depression, I’ve hit the lowest of lows for me. I thought I struggled with depression before, but this week proved to me that things can always get worse. On the bright side, however, I’ve studied my scriptures every day before school, and I’ve definitely reaped the blessings of putting God first in my day. I’ve seen so many expressions of His love all around me, and I’m grateful that I can lean on that to know that He is still there lifting me up every day. I thought I had seen light in the darkness before, but this week also proved to me like never before that there is always light. And I’m clinging to it for dear life.

While I was at times paralyzingly depressed, I did a lot of soul-searching. I hate to admit this (can you say pride?), but after everything I’ve gone through over the past three years, I still have room for humbling and using the Atonement. I still have room for my testimony and strength to grow. I’ve been studying hope and faith this week, and I’m seeing how powerful they can be. I’m learning how  truly humble I have to be to let faith and hope work and to really turn to God and accept His will for my life.

Everything feels so hard right now. I have good days, even great days, at school, and yet it is a daily struggle to even think about going back the next day. I’m trying to focus on one day at a time, yet I can’t seem to slow down and not think about all the responsibilities that await me each and every day.  Behind it all, I’m anticipating what could be a slightly horrendous move (horrendous for reasons that I don’t want to get in to right now). And Ben is leaving in possibly a week. As funny as it may sound on this blog, he is a rock to me in a lot of ways. We complete each other. And he is so good to me when I am depressed. I’m scared to face this depression without him, but I know that it will force me to lean on God more, which will only be a good thing.

Yesterday when I got home from school, Ben told me about his relapses.

Sigh.

My instinctive, initial reaction, though, was peace. As he told me about the tough temptations, how hard they were—the hardest he has faced in a long time—along with how hard he fought, I could only think, “Man. I can relate.” As he expressed his disappointment in himself for falling hard this week, I could only think about my depression. I thought about the duties I had neglected at home all week, and how he had to pick up the slack. I thought of the relatively mean and manipulative things I had said and done because I was so depressed. I thought of the inner struggles I had, fighting the depression because I did not want to let it win, and the pain I felt when I realized depression had won and I had lost.

I felt like I understood him.

I know that I can in no way understand exactly what is going on from his perspective, just like he can’t completely understand my perspective of this issue in our marriage. But I did feel like in some ways my depression was perfectly timed so I could have that experience of understanding.

On another note, when we break it down, all of my worst moments of depression this week seem to be in direct relationship with his relapse moments. In the past, when I’ve gotten severely depressed, my instinct is to think that something is going on with him—and that is usually a valid feeling. This time I didn’t go there in my mind. I was caught completely off-guard with his confession. On one hand, that is good because I was so full of trust (which is major progress) that I didn’t think my depression had anything to do with his addiction. On the other hand, it scares me that it could be hidden so easily. All week, he was so loving and supportive of me while he was dying a little bit inside, and I had NO CLUE.

Progress is being made, though. He told me about the relapsing when he felt it was most appropriate (although, to be fair, if he had told me right away rather than letting it build up, it probably wouldn’t have escalated to where it did). And even though I’m not 100% sure I agree with his timing, He told me, rather than me questioning and pestering him. That is good.

We almost separated about a month ago. It’s been a little rough, but I’m still seeing progress being made. I’m so happy for him.

Salt and Light

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Matthew 5:13--"Ye are the salt of the earth."

Matthew 5:14--"Ye are the light of the world."

Matthew 5:16--"Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your father, which is in heaven." 

There are similar verses in the Book of Mormon when Jesus comes to the Americas. I quoted the verses from the New Testament, though, for you non-LDS folk :)

When I read these verses, they punched my gut. Do you know what the purpose of salt is? Salt is a spice that is used to inhibit bacterial growth and spoilage of food. Do you already see where I'm going with this? Is your heart thumping like mine is?

I am the salt of the earth. We are the salt of the earth. We, the lovely people who have been chosen to face and battle pornography and sex-addiction head on, are the salt of the earth. Why? Because we are strong. We are powerful. We have voice. And we are amazing!

God trusts us.

While talking to friends at the Togetherness Project, we all pretty much agreed that pornography and the misuse of sex is going to be the plague of the last days. In case you haven't noticed, it's getting bad, folks. Pornography is so easily attainable. Sex is tossed around like a rag doll. Trust me, I teach high school. This stuff is totally normal to the young generation. Actually, being disengaged from the sexual phenomenon is completely abnormal. 

Pornography and sex-addiction is bacterial growth. It's causing our beautiful world to spoil, to rot. We need people to be the salt. We need people to inhibit, or at least slow, the plague. We need people to fight hard and take a stand.

Do you know what else is significant about salt? Well, at the time these scriptures were written, salt was a highly valued spice. That brings to light some further significance of us being salt.

I am the salt of the earth: I am valuable. You are the salt of the earth: you are valuable. While we are fighting this addiction, sometimes we see things through the wrong lenses. We might only see ourselves through the my-husband/loved one-looks-at-porn-that-must-mean-I'm-not-valuable-to-him/her-lens. We might get so depressed that we think we are nothing. We might try to compete with porn for attention.

Don't be fooled!

We are the salt of the earth. We have divine purpose. We have divine power. We can help fight this fight. We can help slow the rotting that is happening to the world. We can see our value and power and make this fight something Satan wished he had never started.

We can do it.

We are also the light. We are disciples of Christ. As members of His church, we are asked to act as He acts. He is light. If we take His name upon us, that also makes us a light. We can help lead people out of darkness.

There is much to be done. Right now, my focus as a light is to aid in fighting pornography. In doing that, I want to help other people see what I see. I want other people to feel what I feel. I want women (or men) who feel lost, alone, and helpless to realize that they have a circle of love and friendship among us, the others who have been hurt by sex-addiction. I want both addicts and spouses/loved ones of addicts to step out of the darkness and shame. I want us to be brave and show the world who we are. I want us to rally together to thwart Satan--to be the light, to be the salt!

Seriously. We can do it.

Christ is.

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Today I studied 3 Nephi 11. This is one of my favorite chapters because it is Christ talking to the people in the Americas after He was crucified. I love reading His teachings.

In verse 11, He says, "And behold, I am the light and the life of the world." I've read that verse dozens of times. I've never really focused on the meaning, though, because it usually just seems so simple, so duh.

What does it mean that Christ is the light? What does it mean that He is the life? What does that mean to me, right now, while trapped in depression?

I've been depressed. It comes and goes, and some days are worse than others. My depression isn't all due to the addiction: there are many factors that have led to this. To put it shortly, it stems from trauma, responsibility, and being stretched too thin in too many directions, which all adds up to equal STRESS. It boils down to stress.

This is what light means to me:
     -The absence of darkness
     -The stimulation of sight
     -The ability to make things visible
     -An aid in the understanding of mysteries
     -The way to peace and overcoming fear

Christ is my light. He overpowers darkness (Satan). He helps me find healing in the darkest of despair. When I stay close to Him, he helps me conquer my fears and find peace. He stimulates my sight--meaning He helps me see things as they are and as they have the potential to be. He helps me view my life through the correct lenses with the proper attitude and perspective. He makes things visible: He helps me see my tender mercies and find things to be grateful for at all times. He helps me understand the gospel and gain the desire to keep understanding life.

He helps me live a better life.

Christ is my life. I've learned through experience that Christ is the way. I've tried being angry at Him...and all that did was cause me to slip farther into a dark depression. I've tried doing things my way, but I always find that His way is the best way (even if it seems impossibly hard in the moment).

Christ is the reason I live and breathe. 

He is the reason I find joy and grace. 

With Him in my life, life is full of beauty, harmony, and love.

General Conference Takeaway #1: I Can Love

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While unpacking tonight, I found some old journals. One was from when Jack and I were dating. I found some important entries that I knew he wanted to read (long story there). They were about the decision to marry him. I had always kept this from him because I felt the decision and process I took to decide to marry him was deeply spiritual and personal. So much so, that I didn't want him to read about it in my journals. However, for some reason, that didn't matter tonight.

I passed my journal over to him to let him read, and he got uncomfortably quiet. I didn't proof-read first, so I wasn't sure if he had read something offensive (our relationship at the time was rocky...and I was deciding whether or not to marry him or another guy). The thing that got him, though, was a statement at the end of an entry describing why he was perfect: "No red flags." It made him depressed because it reminded him of how much I had trusted him and how much that trust had been broken by something that would have been nice to see red flags for.

I did think he was perfect when we were dating. I know now he was too perfect, but at the time, I had specific things I was looking for in my future spouse. He did a very good job at keeping the addiction from me, and he filled everything I wanted. Like I said, deciding to marry him was deeply spiritual. I included God very much in that decision, and I knew it was right.

Sometimes, that inclusion of God and knowing marrying Jack was the right decision haunts me. It haunts me when I get depressed about how the addiction has the power to destroy what we have. It makes me ask God why? Why me? Why should we be together? Why would this be in the plan for me?

Now, keep in mind that I am deeply grateful for the growth we have experienced. I really and truly am. But, you know, sometimes it's just hard. And I have the right to question. It's good for the soul. Haha.

Anyway, President Eyring said something in his General Conference talk this morning that answered that question perfectly. For those of you who are not LDS, every six months, the authorities of our church speak in a conference over the weekend. There are five two-hour sessions. It's beautiful. No other words describe it other than beautiful and sacred. I LOVE General Conference. This one was especially good and gave me some direct inspiration and answers I've been seeking.

President Eyring told this story about a grandma going to visit her grandson in jail. On the way, she was praying and asked God why, after everything she had done to live a good life, He would give her this grandson who ruined his own life and caused her so much pain. The answer that came to her was, "I gave him to you because I knew you could and would love him no matter what he did."

That statement completely resonated with me. It rang in my heart and pierced my soul. I knew, in that instant, that even though the story was different, God was speaking to me. He wanted me to marry Jack because he knew that I could handle this. He knew I could and would love him. No matter what.

That's the first time I've heard/felt it put like that. Whenever I've wondered why I'm with him, why God wanted me to be with him, I've always had a similar feeling. But that feeling was more along the lines of me being special and being the best person to help him overcome his addiction, repent, and fulfill his divine potential as a son of God. This is the first time I've felt/heard it said that the reason was my ability to love him.

I do love him. I love him on a very deep level, which is why the addiction is so painful. Sometimes, I feel like I don't love him on the surface, when I'm struggling, but there is always that deep love that lies beneath. And I'm always dedicated to helping him. I mean, that's why I do the things I do. That's why I try to enforce certain boundaries and why I am blunt at times and have high expectations for him.

I can love him. I do love him.

Now, that doesn't mean that our marriage isn't at risk. It is. There is still the possibility that at some point down the road, he will have majorly crossed a line, and our marriage will be over. BUT this gives me hope. It gives me a little bit more courage and strength to know that God wants me to keep loving. At least for right now.


AND... I'm excited for the Togetherness Project!

Accountability to Godly Principles

I think I've needed a break from "addiction recovery." I put that in quotation marks because ultimately, this addiction recovery experience is to bring me closer to Christ and be able to live a full and happy life. That being said, I've needed a break from so much concentration and energy being spent specifically on addiction recovery and healing. I've been focusing more on qualities and attributes about myself--characteristics that need to be made better and feeling peace and joy in my life--on my own, rather than through the 12 steps.

I've had a lot of responsibilities on my plate. I've experienced a lot of stress this year. I'm a stresser, you guys. A STRESSER. Life stresses me out, and I allow things to prevent me from feeling peace. I've felt a lot of peace through my 12-step journey, but at the same time, feeling like I'm focusing so much on the addiction and my recovery stresses me out because I feel like the addiction is ruling my life. As if the addiction dictates what I'm studying and I HAVE to make sure I'm including my 12 steps in my studies.

So I stopped for a while. I finished step 9 and didn't move on to step 10 because I didn't want to add that extra pressure. I knew what step 10 was (daily accountability), and I kept that in the back of my mind. I've thought a lot about the things I've been working on as a result of my inventory and the following steps, and I've just been trying to make them better. I mean, it really all comes down to being more like Christ.

I picked up my 12-step manual again this week. I felt ready to move on in the program.

I love how perfectly the steps fit together. The first nine are learning and growing steps, and the last three are maintenance steps. All the principles the first steps teach are the things that I need to now base my life on. Now, I'm holding myself accountable for all of those things. I'm holding myself accountable every day so I can see my progress and how close or far away I am from my goals. Every day is a constant process to bring me back to Christ.

I've tried to develop a change of heart. To maintain that mighty change of heart requires effort. If anybody knows that, I do (and I'm sure you do too). Holy cow, it's HARD to maintain the things I've learned. Sometimes I have my own relapses. I have a difficult time refraining from anger. I have a difficult time speaking with love. Sometimes it's hard for me to say sincere prayers. Sometimes it's hard for me to feel the love of God for others around me. It's also sometimes hard to give service and look outside of the things I'm struggling with.

Of course, my own personal relapses tend to coincide with Jack's, but still. Do I want the addiction to rule me? Do I want to be angry and cold just because I'm hurting? NO! Of course not! I want to be the best person I can be. And I'm trying to be. Sometimes, it's just hard.

I'm learning to forgive myself and move on quicker. When I do get down and mad, I've finally discovered my agency. I have the choice to stay that way or make efforts to move on. It's not easy. It's so much easier to just be angry when I feel those temptations of Satan roaring around me. But it's so much more joyful to find the way to move past that. When I can forgive myself for the little things I've done wrong, when I can forgive myself for dwelling on the anger and move on, I've found so much more happiness.

It takes work to stay spiritually fit. 

I'm an athlete. I know how hard it is and how much work is required to keep the body toned. I know how much work it requires to win championships. I know how much work is required to be a top-notch athlete.

I'm also a learner. I worked really hard in college to earn As. I had to be at the top of my game to spit out information for my tests, especially in my really hard classes. To really do well, I checked myself every day. I studied information. I quizzed myself. I did checks for accountability to make sure that I knew the necessary information to do well on the test.

That same amount of work is required in my spiritual athletics--games, championships, fitness and conditioning--and learning. I need to work out daily. I need to hold myself accountable. I need honest, prayerful self-appraisal. I need to ask myself searching questions about my feelings, thoughts, motives, and conduct. I need to watch for signs of pride. I need to take my weaknesses to God. I need to take my pains to God and allow Him to give me rest. I need to keep my heart set on the Savior and remember His teachings and love. I need to serve.

But just like any athlete, I need to know when I've reached my limit so I don't injure myself. I need to make sure I'm taking care of my spiritual, emotional, and physical needs. I need to seek out balance and serenity. When necessary, I need to take time-outs and breathe. I need to check myself in stressful situations and see where I'm being triggered.

I've been trying to hold myself accountable, but now it's even more important. I know the principles. Of course, I don't know them perfectly, but I know enough to make changes and hold myself accountable. The biggest thing I'm working on is letting go. Letting go of my pains. Letting go of my stress. Letting go of my desire to control everything. The next biggest thing is counseling with God and accepting His plan. I'm trying to really understand what He wants me to do. I'm trying to follow my promptings. And I'm really trying to accept His will. Sometimes it's really hard because when I look at all the responsibilities I have in all aspects of my life (church, school, family, group), it completely overwhelms me. But, when I look at it all through God's eyes and see things with perspective, it gives me motivation to keep going.

This week was really stressful. I didn't go to bed before 11 any day, and I got up around 5:30 every day. Not terrible, but after basically two weeks of that, I felt completely exhausted by the end of the week. This weekend I had a big thing going on for a stake assignment I have, and that completely wore me out too. But, every day I saw tremendous blessings. Every day I asked God to help me see things with perspective and to give me strength to keep going, and He did. I have seen many reasons why He has asked me to do the things He has asked of me. I have seen growth, and I've seen my specific talents at work. I have felt a tremendous amount of joy in serving Him and His children.

I know I've been able to have such clear vision this week because I've been holding myself accountable to the things I've learned through my trials. I've been holding myself accountable and not allowing the nasties to creep in and stay. I feel so blessed, and I also feel like I know I can do hard things.

My wise bishop told me a few months ago that my life was about to get much harder and the responsibilities would only pile on even more. He was right. But because I decided to embrace things and lean on God, I've been able to have hope, motivation, and strength in doing all that He has asked me to do.

And I'm holding myself accountable every day so I can keep that proper perspective and be an instrument in His hands.

This song speaks to me. Beautiful music in the hands of beautiful artists.

Beauty and Light

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 Just a couple of hours after the post I wrote last night, the darkness started coming back. This time, I could not shake it. There was no choosing to be happy.

As I knelt down to pray, I had this simple prompting: ask Jack for a blessing. I said my prayer then asked for a blessing. By this time, I was crying. I felt physical pain and that freezing feeling. These bouts of darkness and pain have continued to get worse daily for the last few weeks. Sometimes I think something is wrong with me. Or that if I told people I think Satan is taking over my body, they wouldn't believe me. I can't really describe how it has felt. Just completely and utterly awful.

I've felt crazy. I have had moments where I feel happy. I feel light. I feel joy. Then I have had my moments where I instantly switch to darkness. Despair. Trapped. Frozen. It's day and night how opposite those feelings are. And it's insane how fast the switch between the two comes. I actually had this thought yesterday that maybe I am bipolar. Except for the fact that I have never felt this way before, at least not to this extremity.

Last night I asked Jack to give me a blessing. It was the most beautiful and powerful priesthood blessing I have had in a while. He even started with those words I'm always longing to hear, "You've requested a blessing for comfort, but this will also be a blessing of healing." I felt this powerful surge of faith--and I felt like He is recognizing my faith and blessing me for it. Oh man, it was just so awesome, and that's only the beginning. I just want to share a little part of this blessing. I was told that Satan has been trying to take over my body, and recently I have felt a small portion of the misery and darkness that Satan wants me to feel for eternity. Then, Satan was commanded, in the name of Jesus Christ, to leave me. With those words, I felt him leave. I felt a huge weight lifted, and I felt peace. Oh, blessed peace--a calming and refreshing peace like I have not felt in weeks. It was amazing. I feel amazing.

I was given instruction and warnings of him coming back. I was given a lot of specific instruction for many trials I am struggling with right now. It was so beautiful. The Spirit that was in the room was so powerful, so strong. It was a testament to me of God's love for me, along with the power of the priesthood.

I have so much to be grateful for. Despite the pain of the blackness I have felt recently, it's helped me draw closer to God. My patriarchal blessing warns me to be wary of the things of the world, so I always try to be. My patriarchal blessing also says something to the effect of as I increase my understanding of my relationship with God, I will be blessed with a happy and healthy life. While I have been being closed-in by blackness, I've seen that I always have a choice. I can choose to get angry and separate myself from God, or I can choose to remember my knowledge I have of the plan of salvation and my relationships with my Father and my Savior. I've been choosing the latter. And while the darkness has been scary and terrifying, I feel so much closer to Them--something I am beyond grateful for.

Something I have struggled with in the past that I've been working on is the idea of loving God. I know we are supposed to love Him. I know He is my Father. But I haven't felt like I have a relationship with Him where I can actually love Him. A couple days ago while I was praying, I realized that I really, truly, deeply love God. It was a beautiful feeling.

E., my friend to whom I recently disclosed the addiction trial, asked me if I'm grateful for it. I told her yes. I am. I am so, so grateful for this trial, along with others, because I'm learning things that I have no idea how I would learn otherwise.

I'm learning how to love.

I'm learning how to stay close to the Spirit.

I'm learning humility.

I'm learning trust.

I'm learning patience.

I'm learning to find beauty.

I'm gaining a stronger love for the scriptures.

I'm gaining a better understanding of the Plan.

I'm gaining a stronger relationship with God and my Savior.

I'm learning to recognize others who are in need.

I feel stronger. I have faith. I have love. I have God on my side. Always. I have my Savior to lift me up. Always.

I'm so full of joy and gratitude. I'm so grateful for everything right now. Hallelujah!

From dark to light

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Yesterday I was scary. I was so angry and so depressed that I scared myself. At one (extreme) low point, one of my parents' dogs (we are watching the dogs while they are on vacation) was really annoying. I couldn't handle it anymore, so I just ran up to him, got down to his level, and screamed as loud and long as I could (don't worry though. He is a very non-judgmental dog. In fact, he seemed to think it was funny). I can't even describe it other than saying it felt very out of control and desperate. The feelings tied to it were terrifying. 

I prayed a lot yesterday. I studied my scriptures. I did a lot of good things to help with my depression and anxiety. Even though I felt out of control almost all day, by the time I was supposed to go out to this girl's night I helped put together, I was doing okay. And by the time I woke up this morning, I was happy. 

I have been happy today. HAPPY! I have had my moments where the bad tries to creep in, but I made the choice today to be happy, and I was. And it has been beautiful. 

I'm grateful for the sweet peace the gospel brings. I know this peace is from my Father and my Savior. I feel so incredibly blessed today. And, looking back, I am grateful for the darkness so I can relish the light even more. That's one good thing about trials.

Reflections on the road to recovery

We are approaching Step 7: Humility

The key principle is, “Humbly ask Heavenly Father to remove your shortcomings.”

All of the steps require humility in some form, but in step 7, humility is the primary focus. I am so excited for this step!

First, I want to reflect on the journey. So far, we have admitted that we are powerless to heal on our own (or overcome our own forms of addiction—co-dependency, anger, anxiety, depression, etc). We have believed that the power of God can restore us to complete spiritual health. We have made the decision to turn our will and life over to Heavenly Father. We fearlessly made an inventory of ourselves. We have confessed our sins to a trusted person. And we experienced a change of heart and become ready to ask God to remove our weaknesses.

We have come a long way.

If this is your first time through the 12 steps, think of how you felt at the very beginning. If you were like me, your heart might have been completely filled with anger (with a little room to breathe?). You might have experienced so much rage that you forgot what it felt like to feel trust and peace. You might have been in so much pain that you contemplated leaving your loved one with the addiction, or you might have contemplated suicide. Do you still feel that now? I’m sure you do—but in phases. I do. It comes and goes as a cycle. And over time, and through healing, the cycle has had less negative and way more positive. Overall, I am happy. I feel peace. I feel joy. I feel love. Yes, this is my second time through the steps, but even during round one, by the time I had reached the halfway mark through the 12 steps, I was on a spiritual high (if you aren’t, don’t be afraid. Healing comes at different speeds and in different ways for everybody. Keep pushing forward with faith and trusting God. I promise, healing will come). I no longer blame my husband for everything bad that happens to me (I still do sometimes—but it’s a habit I am trying to break). I no longer break down or wallow in self-pity when my husband tells me he masturbated or viewed pornography. Rather, I feel pain for him. My primary concern is for my husband, not for myself. Whoa.

I have come a long way.

Two years ago, I was considering ending my marriage because I felt lied to and tricked. We even decided before we were married that divorce would never be an option, which made me feel worse for considering it. That also made the pain of feeling tricked worse because I felt like maybe he wanted us to make that arrangement because he knew I would have reason to want to leave him.

Now, I don’t consider ending my marriage. Even if it gets really bad again (which I hope it won’t, but really, who knows), I am dedicated to making it work. Even when I go to the temple alone. Even though I have to keep secrets from everyone I know and love. I love my husband more than the trials that come because of his addiction. Until he is ready for people to know this is one of our trials, I am okay keeping it to myself. I do hope that one day (soon? kind of?), he will feel comfortable enough to say, “Yeah, I struggle with this. But I am trying to heal.” He could be a great strength to people, I just know it.

At this point down our road to recovery, I would like to share with you a few of the big things I have learned. And, if anyone would like to add to this list, email me, and I will post it J

      1.  Addicts can change. So often, I hear really judgmental statements about addicts or former addicts. It breaks my heart when I hear such negative things. Yeah, some people don’t change. Some people may not be willing to change, but everyone can change. And we really don’t know what is in an addict’s heart. My husband is having a hard time letting completely go of his addiction, and he still messes up, but have I completely let go of my addictions? Have I completely let go of my anger? Am I perfect? No. So, I feel that my job is to be compassionate and loving. Supportive and encouraging. I don’t condone his behavior, but I also try not to judge him. I try to listen and love. Really, through my recovery process, I have found myself trying to be more like the Savior. “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone” (John 8:7).

      2. My husband’s addiction is not a reflection of how poorly I fulfill him. I am not at fault for his actions regarding his sexual addiction. I think many people with a loved one who struggles with addiction blame themselves for whatever reason, but we are not to blame. It is something that the addict has struggled with for a long time, and it is way beyond us. So, if you are struggling with the self-blame game, turn it over to God. Let the Savior take that pain from you.

      3. The addict already has a Savior. I don’t need to try to be his savior. I do need to bear my testimony of the Savior and help my husband see the light when he is clouded in darkness. But, it’s not my responsibility to carry his pain. The Savior can help me with that.

      4. The Savior can change me. 

So, like I said, we are approaching step 7, which is humility. Are you ready? I am (next post).