When were my first moments of doubt?
Was it when I first fathomed the possibility of eternal polygamy, or the some of the details of how it began with Jospeh Smith? Was it when I read that Blacks are “descendants of Cain” and are punished for the sins of their father with black skin condemning so many of Gods children from the moment they’re born?
Was it the realization that I had to admit that one of my closest friends is gay? Was it seeing a happy, functional, loving gay relationship for the first time?
Is truth simply what I chose it to be? People say there’s absolute truth… beyond human truth, beyond God, that exists independently of us. Why does God change His mind? I wouldn’t want to be told that my skin is black because my first ancestor after Adam was a murderer. And, now they are allowed to have the priesthood? Do we simply have to overcome those things? And what is the alternative if we don’t? Would God really leave me in the Terrestial kingdom for all eternity because I couldn’t figure it out here, or is that generous? If I told him, I don’t want to be given in marriage or be a rib forever?
I’ve been looking at the fruits of different communities as carefully as I can. Mormon communities do seem to be very alive.
When were there moments of truth?
Was it at my grandmother’s death? Hearing of Heavenly Mother taking an active role in someone’s life? (A friend who had been struck by lightening was told in a blessing that his Heavenly Mother was there.) Hearing Pres. Hinckley say that life was more than being barefoot and pregnant for women? Was it being comforted in the temple while crying over being forced to veil my face?
Was it holding a newborn for the first time?
Do I doubt only because I didn’t get the Mormon fairy tale? Because I didn’t get what I wanted? Because I can’t have everything, a family, a career? So I self-sabotage until I’m wearing a circular rut into the ground?
Why do all of these have to be questions? Can’t I know something for a change?
Like: “I know the church is true. I know God lives and loves us individually. I know Jesus suffered the atonement for me and for you. I know the Book of Mormon is true. I know Joseph Smith was a prophet and [insert current prophet] is a prophet of God and speaks for Him today.”
These are the words I would have said. The words I have crafted and refined, making sure I hit every point since the moment my mother whispered them in my ear in the first time I stepped to the pulpit. Will I have to live with the bitter disappointment on her face for the rest of my life?
So what is truth? Is it my truth? Is it absolute truth? Would I chose absolute truth if I didn’t like it?