Reflections, Part 4
Note: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is also known as the Mormon Church. Therefore, I’ll use the name Mormon in this post. For definitions of terms included in bold type throughout this post, please see the Definitions section at the bottom.
In 2008, I knew I needed to listen to what Jon was learning about the Mormon Church (please read my previous post here), and so, my own journey down the rabbit hole began.
Ultimately, I began to realize that it wasn’t what I’d been taught that bothered me as much as what the church represented, and how people were treated by each other. Could I remain in an unsafe place? At this point in time, Jon wanted to quit church over academic issues. I wasn’t ready to quit yet. The struggle for me was values.
People of different races, LGBTQ people, the mentally ill, and the disabled were not treated well. Women weren’t treated well. It was a Jesus thing with me. Jesus the street preacher would not only be present—he’d be calling it all out. I’m big on calling it out. Jesus would be ministering to the people on the margins and expect that others would do the same. Where were the ministers? They were in the main crowd. I found myself thinking about how exclusive Mormonism was, and that Jesus wasn’t running a country club for the exclusive use of some. Church is a place for all who want to be present, and for those who need to be welcomed in as they are. This is when what I’d been taught really hit me: Mormonism was not the exclusive club I should live in. Jon had told me I had a privileged Mormon upbringing, and he was right. Despite the mistreatment, I had access to people most Mormons don’t have access to. My father had been one of them. OUCH.
With Jon’s suicide in 2016, I stayed put and didn’t make any major life decisions. Going to the US in 2017 would send me down a new path. I had not thought about leaving my faith of birth, and I wouldn’t for several more months. Sunstone altered my thinking. Sunstone US is the grandmother of all things that people of the restoration faiths can gather at, and several faiths come together there. Mormons, former polygamists, and Community of Christ all gather under one roof for a long weekend of exchange. I went to see friends and made some new ones. I returned home, and the events of the conference kept nagging at me in my petite mind. I had attended two sessions that touched me deeply, and one of them was being put on by Community of Christ. Finally, I wrote a letter to someone who belonged to another church. I told her, “I don’t normally do this, but I need to write this.”
I started attending an online group for those in Europe, and I liked what I was hearing and learning. And no, don’t ask me to join your church or do anything like it. They didn’t ask me anything; they let me sit and explore to my heart’s content. Slowly, I wanted some involvement, and they were glad to have me participate.
In March of 2018, while sitting on my pretty blue bed, I realized that I’d have to leave the Mormon faith. I sobbed. It wasn’t all bad, was it? I’d learned the value of service, and that sometimes we’re stretched to do things, and doing so can causes us to grow in ways that we wouldn’t grow otherwise. I’d also learned the basics of public speaking as a very young child. I’d gotten to sing in the choir and enjoyed it. It was the culture that tore me apart, the good stuff and the negative all bundled up together, and I had to leave it behind.
What about my eternal marriage to Jon? As I thought this, the words came into my mind: “I have your back on this.” The words were clear, and I understood it was OK to leave for a new something. It still took me six months to make the move. In September of 2018, I was rebaptized as an adult, and then confirmed into my new faith. I flew home that Sunday evening and got online and resigned my Mormon membership.
At the time of the exit, I thought I understood why I needed to make the move out of the Mormon Church. Like so much in our grief and life journeys, we never see it all until we’re on the river and navigating something new, and then we turn around and gasp a “WOW! Did I really do all of that?” The answer is always a resounding yes. I’m still in the gasping place. It is a good place to be.
In 2026, I think back to the woman who sat at her dining table, who didn’t know how she’d do one year, let alone ten years.
Doing an exit from the Mormon Church was one very unexpected twist in my grief journey. I’m thankful for what I’ve learned, and thankful for how I’ve changed and grown over time.
The great thing about life is that it greets you with the unexpected, and that it teaches us, and molds us in new ways. The discoveries are the best, and the thrills are around all the corners. It’s just that sometimes we don’t fully appreciate the surprise until we’ve gotten through the hell that it takes to get to the wonderful center. Oh, and I do love my creamy centers.
I’m glad I said yes to this change. I’ve expanded in ways that have filled my life in new ways.
Definitions:
Mission: Women serve eighteen months and men serve two years, at the missionary’s expense. Missionaries are sent out to convert others to the faith. Presently, both women and men can go at age eighteen.
Leave: You can’t just leave the Mormon Church. You need to resign by writing a formal letter to Salt Lake City to have your name taken out of the Church database.
Marriage: The Church doctrine on marriage espouses the belief that a man and a woman can be married in this life and the next life. A marriage done in a Mormon temple is done for time and eternity. To leave the Church means you are no longer “sealed” together, and the bond is broken.
Baptism: Mormons baptize children at age eight. Children are not equipped to understand the commitment they are making at eight. Community of Christ offers the option of a redo, to show commitment to Jesus. It is not a requirement for membership but can be a step towards it. I had a redo as an adult and was then confirmed into Community of Christ.
