What is a recovering Mormon? Where did they come from, why are they here, where are they going?
These are deep questions for anyone, but especially for those who are in recovery and sometimes still prefer to live on the surface, walk on the edge, refuse to forgive others or even themselves, and avoid serious self-evaluation or the need to question beyond the moment.
Being a recovering Mormon isn't something that's easily defined; in fact there are probably several definitions that could be argued. Some Mormons might even take offense at the thought of people considering themselves recovering Mormons. Be that as it may, I've been in recovery for quite some time, but only recently borrowed the phrase "recovering Mormon" from a friend who coined it in my honor.
I remember when my kid's Dad and I divorced - I kept his last name - Avarell. It was who I was - Jean Avarell. My kids carried the Avarell name and so would I, until I remarried and made the misguided choice to give it up. But in spite of that choice, in conversation I would often refer to myself as an Avarell, and I am still fond of saying "once an Avarell, always an Avarell." I believe the same is true for a Mormon: once a Mormon, always a Mormon.
Oh sure, there are those who have renounced their membership and left the church behind as if it was never a part of their lives, and also those who the church has removed from the membership lists. But the fact that they were once a Mormon is often something that defines these people as they move on. Whether they like it or not, the phrase "once a Mormon, always a Mormon" definitely has some merit.
So, recovering or not, I am a Mormon. And throughout my life being a Mormon has meant different things. It's been a revelation, a strength, a blessing, a standard for living, a guidepost, an inspiration, an opportunity, a second family, a constant, a responsibility, and then at times, even a trial and a disappointment. This is not unique to Mormonism, it's something that can and does happen in any organized religion. I just didn't expect it to happen to me.
When you've committed yourself to a certain way of life, agreed to follow appointed leaders, shared your personal beliefs with others, taught your children to live according to specific gospel principles, and made personal and sacred promises, it is difficult to just sit and watch as others in positions of authority appear to disrespect, through their actions and decisions, those things you consider sacred. It's even harder to feel the consequences from choices made by those you love and trust who carelessly choose to toss eternity to the wind. And it's excruciatingly painful and very close to spiritual suicide when you are the one who is guilty of abandoning your own standards.
All of these disappointments and betrayals lead to doubt, to hurt, and ultimately to an insidious undermining of the spiritual foundation you built your life on. No matter how many faith-filled sandbags you pile up, some damage is unavoidable.
Suddenly you find yourself in a position that you never could have anticipated and one you never expected: one of being a Mormon, but no longer with the same wide-eyed, all-trusting faith you once had; now with a newfound awareness of the frailty and imperfection of humans, even those in authority, even those you loved and trusted, even yourself.
And the sudden and clear understanding that comes with this awareness is that the real responsibility in spirituality is for individuals to learn, embrace and live their own personal faith as best they can. To not try to live on borrowed light. And to base their beliefs on these three fundamental principles: self-control, respect for others, and faith in God.
And that is where I am. A Mormon always, but not the cookie-cutter Molly Mormon that some might wish I was. I am not that person. I never really was. I am just me. And I am finding my own light. And I am joyful in that effort.
Today I believe that I am more focused on living my daily life in line with godlike principles then ever before. I care more about others. I care more about me. I care more about God. I study. I pray. I listen. I hope and believe. I have faith. And I love.
I love others, I love God, and I love myself. And as God is no respecter of persons, I respect all equally as children of a Heavenly Father who loves us unconditionally. I hope and strive to always be tolerant and non-judgmental. To love the sinner if despising the sin. To do unto others...I'm not perfect, but I am trying.
And I'm tired of the rat race, the competition with the Jones family, the never-ending comparisons. I don't want to compete. I don't want to win or lose. I just want to do my thing and be me. And I want everyone else to do the same. If our paths cross, what a blessing! We can share our talents and our energy and our resources and our laughter and our tears, but let's not compare and compete. It's not healthy. And it's not Christlike.
I really doubt that Jesus cared if His raiment was better or worse than the man next to Him. I don't think He was paying attention to those insignificant details in life. He was looking at the person, not the designer duds. And it is inconceivable to think of Him comparing His home to the one next door.
This isn't to say that having a beautiful home and designer duds is a bad thing, I am the first to say that I love to decorate and shop. It's our attitude about having (or not having) those things that can drag us down and cause jealousy or pride. I recognize that life today is different than life when Jesus walked the earth, and we are different than He was, but I still shudder to think of the money and energy and time I have wasted in my lifetime on things that may have seemed important at the time, but in reality didn't and don't matter - things of substance, but of no real substance.
I am happy with who I am today, because who I am is a person who has made mistakes and is trying to learn from them. With those mistakes came the knowledge that I need to do better, to be better, and so I am seeking to improve, to learn and love and believe and enjoy life again. Every day I feel a deeper appreciation for what I have, and for where I've been and where I'm going. I seek things that are praiseworthy....and of real substance.
I am a Mormon, yes. I am a recovering Mormon who has loved the church, the members, and the teachings of the Gospel for her entire adult life, and still does. That will never change.
But I have changed, and I hope I continue to change, to improve, to progress. Because that's what this life is all about. Learning. Adapting. Forgiving. Healing. Loving. Living. Progressing. And then doing it all over again, and again, and again.
My favorite folk art sign reads, "Laugh Often, Love Much, Live Well," a phrase so simple yet so pure. Leonardo da Vinci once said, "Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication." I like simple. Simple is good.
And I believe. I believe more than ever before. I believe in the goodness of man. And I believe in Jesus Christ. And I believe in God. And I believe in my own self-worth. And I believe in second chances. And third, and fourth chances too.
I know that life has a purpose and slips happen for a reason. I'm where I am as a result of choices I've made, sometimes with and sometimes without prayer and reflection. I have no one to credit or blame but myself. Even if I asked for guidance and received inspiration, the ultimate decision was mine. The glory may belong elsewhere, but I am responsible for my actions and I will have to answer for them, both good and bad. I own my choices and where I am today.
I hope I can live the rest of my life without too many slips. To continue on a path of faith, integrity and kindness. To be who I am supposed to be. To recognize the responsibilities I have and meet them head on. To honor the opportunities that have come to me and connect the dots between them. What amazing possibilities are ahead!
I am not perfect; I don't know anyone on this earth who is. But I am trying to be better every day and I am hoping that's enough.
What happens when a recovering Mormon slips? They look a little deeper inside themselves, they open their heart a bit more, they give trust another chance, they take nothing for granted, they seek knowledge, they celebrate life with more enthusiasm, they step away from the edge, they forgive more easily, they give thanks every day, they turn their face to God, and they tighten their grip on the iron rod. I am very grateful to be a recovering Mormon. It's a good place to be.
Slips happen. Some slips happen without causing too much damage, some aren't so kind. But life usually goes on, sometimes altered slightly, but it still goes on.
As for me and my house, I hope we will live life honorably and selflessly, firm-footed, loving all mankind, and serving with faith and joy.
I believe that's why we're here.
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