Rethinking Covenantal Relationships with God

I’ve been contemplating the intricate nature of covenants with God lately. A conversation I overheard—about different Christian sects having distinct covenants while still considering themselves Christians—prompted me to delve deeper. Could it be that every religion and every nation has established a unique covenant with God or their respective deities? What if unity is the ultimate purpose of these covenants?

The God of the Hebrews, declaring himself as the highest, never disavowed the existence of other gods, only that he was to first. This realization encouraged me to consider a deeper level of interconnectedness among different faiths. Perhaps God seeks unity above all else. What if He honors the covenants made between men and other gods, not in competition, but in collaboration toward the goal of unity among humankind? Or what if there is one God but mankind has split him into many? Instead of viewing diverse religious traditions as separate entities, they might be threads in a harmonious tapestry. With every religious expression there is a different covenant and those who join into it become its covenant keepers.

Previously, I thought of, maybe believed, that God might have failed to keep His part of the covenant with Abraham—requiring His ultimate sacrifice as Christ. The covenant involved God passing through the sections of the sacrifice Abraham made, symbolizing that if God didn’t honor the covenant and it were broken, God would die just as that animal did. It’s possible to argue that God didn’t keep the covenant.

Today, my thoughts took a slightly different turn. What if God cannot work alone and operates solely through covenant keepers—us? If enough of us, as humans, fail in following promptings from God, the covenant cannot be realized and is broken. Its promises remain unfulfilled. For instance, when the children of Israel strayed from their covenant responsibilities, they lost their promised land and were scattered across the globe. Yet God always remembered the covenant and continually called on them to repent and restore it.

But what if God knew humanity could never do what was required to keep the covenant? What if He anticipated that His mortal allies would fail to listen and act as His agents? And what if—being guiltless—He still took responsibility for our failures? What if that was the only way he could act outside of us?

This perspective redefines our relationship with God. What if the fulfillment of the covenant rests entirely on our shoulders and God is calling us to be his agents? When we, as humans—covenant keepers—heed His guidance and promptings, we actively participate in maintaining the covenant. It’s a small seemingly insignificant shift but I think it profound —we go from passive recipients to active collaborators. Christians talk of being the body of Christ, I wonder if this is why.

Turning to Christ in the Midst of the Storm

Imagine you’re in a huge, unfamiliar jungle, surrounded by towering trees that seem to reach up forever. You’ve lost your way, and every direction you look is covered in darkness. You’re alone, feeling trapped, vulnerable, and filled with uncertainty.

What will you do?

Where will you turn?

Who is able to help?

The topic for today is turning to Christ in the midst of our trials.

I have had trials come in a variety of forms. They have brought with them intense emotions of inadequacy, embarrassment, and shame. They have left me feeling alone and vulnerable. Many times they come from completely out of my control. I have seen trials be carried from one generation to the next, hopefully I haven’t carried any for my children to deal with. I may have even imposed trials on others, some deliberately and some unintentionally. Trials have tested my faith and will likely continue to do so. Some of my trials have been the direct result of my choices, like giving in to temptation or acting without thinking. At times, even my well-intentioned actions have accidentally created trials for others or caused hurt for those around me. Simply put trials are inevitable and often leave me feeling like I was punched in my gut and wounded.

I find comfort In Romans chapter 5 verses 3 & 4 (ESV), Paul reminds us that trials can be transformative:

“…we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope,”

I admit I find it impossible to rejoice while I am fearful, ashamed, or feeling alone.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland once said:

“No one of us is less treasured or cherished of God than another. I testify that He loves each of us—insecurities, anxieties, self-image, and all. He doesn’t measure our talents or our looks; He doesn’t measure our professions or our possessions. He cheers on every runner, calling out that the race is against sin, not against each other.”

In the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, I see a powerful symbol of Christ’s Atonement. When they transgressed by partaking of the fruit, they were filled with shame and fear. They were unsure of what it meant for them and their relationship with God. So they hid themselves and tried to cover themselves. Yet, in His infinite mercy, God sought them out, covered their shame with clothing. He put their fear to rest by reconciling their choices with His commandments through grace and compassion.

This act demonstrates Christ’s willingness to cover us and heal our wounds.

No matter the source of our trials, we can turn to Him for guidance, forgiveness, and transformation. His reach for reconciliation offers hope and renewal, even in the most challenging circumstances. As we share our suffering, we can see his love reflected through others who have felt the same way we do.

Christ’s offer of atonement is always available, even when we think we’ve pushed Him away and believe he wants nothing to do us. As we allow Him into our hearts and lives, He grants us strength and shapes us into His image.

On the night of Jesus’ impending trial and crucifixion I think it likely that He felt distraught, isolated, possibly fear or uncertainty, extreme grief for sure. He turned to His friends for comfort, but they couldn’t fully comprehend the weight he carried and were sleeping. He didn’t hold that against them. In that moment of anguish, He sought solace from His Father, endeavoring to reconcile His own will with that of His Father’s. His prayer is a wonderful example of how we, too, can turn to Christ during our trials, seeking His guidance, and striving to align our will with His.

In the Doctrine and Covenants section 19 Christ is pleading with us to turn to him and reconcile with Him, sparing us from the suffering He endured:

“16 For behold, I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent;”

He suffered for us and is offering us a path to peace through forgiveness and yoking himself to us to make our burdens light.

James echos Paul in chapter 1, verses 2 through 5 (KJV) encouraging us to find joy in trials, (the word temptations can also be translated as trials):

“My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into divers temptations; Knowing this, that the trying of your faith works patience. But let patience have her perfect work, that you may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing. If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.”

When we lack knowledge and understanding amid our trials, we can turn to God, and He generously provides without becoming angry or upset.

President Russell M. Nelson said:

“My dear brothers and sisters, the joy we feel has little to do with the circumstances of our lives and everything to do with the focus of our lives.”

I can find joy when I am in despair feeling isolated and alone, because He understands me perfectly.

I can find joy when I feel vulnerable and exposed, because He is always next to me offering me a covering.

I can find joy in when i am overwhelmed by my burden and I cannot carry it anymore, because He is there ready to tie Himself to me and make my burden light.

I can find joy in my wounds and weaknesses, because He can make me whole.

A Parable of a Lost Lamb:

In a peaceful meadow, there lived a little lamb. He had a simple and happy life, grazing on the green pastures and basking in the warmth of the sun. He felt safe and content, surrounded by his loving shepherd and the other sheep.

But one day, unexpectedly dark clouds gathered in the sky, and the meadow was struck by a powerful storm. Lightning flashed, thunder roared, and rain poured down relentlessly. The once-familiar meadow became a perilous place.

The lamb, with his small and fragile frame, struggled to endure the storm. The wind blew him off balance, and the rain soaked his wool, making him heavy and weary.

As the storm raged on, the lamb couldn’t see the shepherd through the pouring rain and blinding flashes of lightning. Fear gripped his heart. He was vulnerable and he felt utterly alone.

In his desperation, he searched for shelter, but he couldn’t find any. The lamb was lost, his once-simple life turned into a daunting nightmare. The darkness of the storm seemed to mirror the darkness of his circumstances, and he longed for safety and comfort.

But then, as he shivered in the pouring rain, the lamb remembered something. He remembered the shepherd’s voice, gentle and reassuring, the same voice that had guided him to green pastures and still waters. He knew that his only hope lay in returning to the shepherd’s care.

With trembling steps, the lamb began to bleat, calling out to the shepherd through the storm. As he cried out, something miraculous happened.

Through the driving rain, the lamb heard the familiar voice of his shepherd calling his name. The shepherd had been searching for him, and when he heard the lamb’s cry, he followed the sound and found the little lamb. With gentle hands, the shepherd scooped him up, holding him close to his heart.

In that moment, the lamb felt a profound sense of relief and safety, a warmth that penetrated his soaked wool.

As we go through life’s storms that exhaust our strength and faith, when we feel lost, vulnerable, and alone, our Savior, Jesus Christ, seeks after each of us. We are not left alone in our trials.

As hard as it is to see through the storm, we are not alone.

As shameful or fearful we may feel, we are not alone.

In our moments of great anguish, we are not alone.

His love and grace are unwavering sources of hope, refuge, and rescue. No matter the trials we face, we can endure them all with Christ who strengthens us.

May we always turn to Him in faith, knowing that His love and care are always with us, leading us safely back to the fold.

Dear Best friend,

I was deeply skeptical before writing as I know the internet can be a weird place but I wanted to because you are a huge part of my life, the reason …

Dear Best friend,

Rediscovering Meaning in Life’s Emptiness

Lately, an unsettling feeling has taken hold of me—a deep-seated emptiness that gnaws at my soul. It’s as if a vital piece of me has gone missing, leaving me worn out and joyless. Amidst this void, I find solace in the scriptures, which urge me to surrender myself to Christ. Yet, a fear lingers within me, a fear of being deceived and made to feel foolish.

Feelings are peculiar creatures. In my mind, I understand that I have the power to choose how I feel or respond to these emotions. I should acknowledge them as an integral part of who I am, but in reality, I shy away from that notion. Instead, I seek distractions to avoid confronting my feelings. Unfortunately, these distractions no longer suffice—I yearn for something more. I hear tales from others, glimpses of what lies beyond, but I’m hesitant to reach out, fearing the prospect of losing it all.

I long for a marriage that transcends superficiality, where mutual trust and unwavering support prevail. Yet, I’m haunted by the notion that my real self might intimidate my wife. Will she embrace the whole me or recoil from it?

As a father, I yearn for a connection with my children that transcends mere coexistence. I want to be more than just the man who lives under the same roof—I want to be their father. And yet, I sometimes feel like a stranger, as if no one truly understands how to treat me, reducing our relationship to that of mere roommates. I can’t help but feel unappreciated and unknown.

In moments of weakness, I find myself yearning for fleeting pleasures, seeking solace in shallow encounters and temporary gratification. I convince myself that I need to feel something other than the numbing emptiness that has become my daily existence. The monotonous routine of working long hours, coming home to a mundane dinner, indulging in an hour of television, and then repeating it all over again engulfs me. I crave more.

But I know deep down that the void left by such superficial encounters is not the answer I seek. It is not the solution to the emptiness that plagues my life. I had fooled myself into thinking that I could navigate life’s complexities alone, that I needed no one. That, my friend, was a lie. I need others. I long for genuine human connection.

The question remains: How do I attain it? How do I express my desire for a deeper bond with my wife? How can I communicate the ache within me to her?

And what about friendship? It has always eluded me, slipping through my fingers like sand. I have never truly felt like I belong, perpetually sensing a detachment from others. Perhaps, I am not alone in this feeling. It is possible that my wife, too, experiences the same longing but lacks the knowledge of how to bridge the divide.

Oh, how I yearn for a day or two of respite, though I confess that I might fill them with trivial distractions instead of embracing truly meaningful endeavors. I wonder how I can turn my daily life into a vacation, a moment of escape from the ceaseless mental chatter that consumes me.

My mind remains incessantly active, its thoughts pouring onto the pages before me. Intellectually, I possess the answers I seek, but applying them demands confronting my fears head-on, stepping forward despite them. If I desire a meaningful marriage, I must treat my wife as my closest confidante—the one with whom I eagerly share every aspect of my life. I must cultivate an unwavering excitement to open up to her, to invite her into the depths of my being.

But how do I navigate the path to genuine connection? How do I bridge the gap that separates us? Perhaps the answer lies in vulnerability—opening up and exposing the tender parts of my soul, allowing her to see me as I truly am, without masks or pretenses. It is through vulnerability that true intimacy is born.

And what about friendships? The elusive bonds that have eluded me for so long. Perhaps the key lies not in searching for them, but in becoming a friend myself. To radiate kindness, empathy, and understanding, and to be present for others in a way that transcends superficial interactions. It is in reaching out, in genuinely caring for others, that I may find the connection I crave.

I realize that I am not alone in my longing. We are all bound by the universal human desire for connection and understanding. It is through shared experiences, open conversations, and heartfelt vulnerability that we discover our commonalities, realizing that our struggles and yearnings are not unique to us alone.

As I reflect upon my desire for a daily vacation, I understand that it is not an escape from reality that I truly seek, but rather a shift in perspective. It is about finding joy and meaning in the small moments, in the mundane tasks that compose our lives. It is about nurturing a sense of gratitude for the present moment and infusing each day with purpose and intention.

So, as I embark on this journey of rediscovery, I recognize that the answers lie within me. I hold the power to transform my relationships, to forge deeper connections, and to infuse my life with the richness it so desperately craves. It starts with a courageous step, a conversation with my wife, an expression of my desires, and a commitment to vulnerability.

I embrace the knowledge that the path ahead may be uncertain and challenging. Yet, armed with the understanding that I am not alone, that countless others have treaded similar paths, I find solace in the collective human experience. For in our shared longing for connection, we find strength and the unwavering hope that awaits us on the other side of emptiness.

And so, with newfound determination, I embark on the journey of rediscovering meaning and forging authentic connections—a journey that promises to breathe life into the void, illuminating the path ahead and transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary.

The Gods I Imagine

Growing up I had a perfectly clear picture of who God was and what he was like. A very black and white vision. With God there was no grey area you were either obedient or not. Obedience granted you exaltation, life with God in the celestial kingdom, which was an inheritance of all God has including godhood. The God of my youth said there was no grey areas, you were either a sinner or you weren’t. It was simple. So imagine my surprise at finding that this God was watching me and judging every aspect of my life. I didn’t believe that He had some ledger or way of measuring good and evil in some way to balance it all out. No, the version of atonement theology I developed said forgiveness is only for those who become perfect and stop sinning. So Christ’s atonement was just always out of reach. To complicate things even more, I had a problem that was shrouded in shame. It was compulsory and I felt broken. Having God standing over me demanding perfection and telling me there is no forgiveness unless you stop. I spent 30 years, at least, with shame building up in me unable to make it better, unable or unwilling to stop. Until one day I was fed up, I looked my God in the face. This God I grew up with, the one I lived as a child but who became my nightmare. I looked him in the face and killed him. Told him that he didn’t exist. At that moment I felt a great weight lift. The shame began falling away. I spent the next few years, and perhaps still am, an atheist or at least agnostic to god.

I loved the church, and the life lessons taught in the scriptures and the principles contained in the covenant. There was no way I was going to leave them. So the question was could I be an atheist and still be a Mormon? The answer I told myself was yes. I spent the next few years listening to other people, both current lds and and former lds tell their stories about God and the church. I soon found I wasn’t alone. Many people still went to church and didn’t have an I know testimony. Many of the former members still had a firm I Know testimony but for disagreements over church policy or teachings were excommunicated. This opened my world up and I began to see what Joseph Smith described in his own life. Everyone was looking at the same information and interpreting it differently. Each of them had a unique perspective or lense that they filtered the information through. There suddenly wasn’t just one right answer. Suddenly everything felt relative. I began to take the stance of only God knows the truth of it. Very strange for a self described atheist.

I soon made the decision to construct a god that I could find appealing. Not a god of stone or gold, but an invisible god that could not be seen or touched. I started to notice that everyone consciously or not was doing this already. Even I had been doing it as a child. I killed mine when it was no longer serving me justly. I began using god as a figure to give attributes to that I could aspire to. I began to try to define this God and limit Him. It felt as if He stepped out of the box I shoved him into and said to me, “That’s not me.” I’ve decided for whatever reason this God needs ambiguity and insists on not being fully known.

The God I constructed is grace centered. Sin is forgiven the moment you ask and Christ didn’t die and suffer to remove my sin he suffered and died to become relatable. The God I found defined sin not as a deliberate act of rebellion but as a wound that is festering that drive’s ungodly behavior. I started to see the world in two camps, those who would covenant with God and those who wouldn’t either because they didn’t know they could or they simply didn’t want to. Even if this God is fictitious I want the covenant life so I deliberately choose, despite my doubts, belief.

The Role of Scriptures in Understanding God’s Covenant

As I reflect on the role of scriptures in understanding God’s covenant, a few questions come to mind: How do I know there is a God? What do the scriptures say about God? Aside from testifying of God’s existence what is the main objective of the scriptures? In what way do the scriptures serve as a commentary on God’s covenant?

To answer these questions, let’s first look at how the scriptures’ are a testimony of God’s existence. Many people, including myself, have questioned the existence of God. I have tried to answer the question of God’s existence using logic, reason, and personal experiences. I heard Dennis Prager say that the reason he believes in God is because the Torah says there is a God and after much deliberation and internal debate, I decided to trust that the scriptures tell the truth about God’s existence also. The only way I have of knowing there is a God is through the scriptures. What we know of God is based on knowledge that has been passed down to us by those who have wrestled with Him before us. This knowledge has been preserved over time and is now available to us in the form of scriptures. Throughout history, countless people have found meaning and purpose through their faith in God, and the scriptures have played an important role in shaping their understanding of who God is.

But the scriptures are more than just a testimony of God’s existence. They also teach us about God’s character and His desire for a relationship with us. The scriptures don’t expressly say why God wants a relationship with us, but they do indicate that God wants us to be like Him. The commandments He issued can be a guide for getting along with others and give us steps to take to have a relationship with Him.

I believe that the main objective of the scriptures is to provide commentary on the covenant God wants us to make with Him. Through this covenant, God desires our general progression towards godliness through obedience to the principles taught through the law and by making internal commitments to strive to live a certain way in both thought and deed.

The scriptures contain commentary from different prophets on God’s covenant, showcasing a chosen people and their efforts to uphold this covenant. I believe the writers of the different books in the scriptures saw people in two camps – those in covenant and those not in covenant. Through their stories we are provided with testimony of God and guidance on how to enter into a covenant with Him, how to live a life that is pleasing to God, and the blessings and consequences that come with keeping or breaking the covenant. The stories within the scriptures offer hope and inspiration to those seeking to renew their commitment to the covenant and deepen their relationship with God. Those who enter into a covenant with God and keep it gain His favor in this life and in whatever life there was afterward ultimately gaining all that He has. The very idea that God is willing to covenant with us to allow us to gain His favor may seem odd, people may wonder what is in it for Him. The truth is we cannot know what or if God gets anything from it but if the scriptures are to be trusted He isn’t motivated by the same things we are and would not covenant with us out of selfishness. He therefore only wants our success and progression.

The scriptures serve as a guide for our spiritual journey, offering insights into who God is, what He desires from us, and how we can live in harmony with His will. By studying and applying the teachings of the scriptures, we can grow in our relationship with God and experience the blessings that come from covenanting with Him.

Realizations That Helped Me Stop Pornography and Masturbation Use

For years, I battled with an unwanted pornography and masturbation problem that left me feeling hopeless and alone. I truly believed that I was broken and that something was fundamentally wrong with me and that I was going to hell because I liked it and couldn’t stop. I struggled with intense feelings of shame and self-loathing and believed that no one else would or could understand. But over the last few years, I came to several realizations that helped me stop the unwanted behavior.

The first realization was that I was not alone. As I found podcasts like Unashamed and Unafraid, I discovered that many people struggled with this same problem. I found books and psychologists, who had their own podcasts, about others who had made this same journey and the answers they found. This sense of community helped me feel less alone and gave me the courage to keep going.

My second realization was that I was not broken. No matter how I felt, I came to realize that I was not fundamentally flawed or beyond redemption. I came to see that my use of pornography was a symptom of a deeper problem. I grew up forming the idea in my head that sexual arousal outside of marriage was wrong, a sin, second only to murder in degree of awfulness. I believed that to simply find a woman attractive and look at her was the same as lusting. Realizing that my internal definitions were wrong was the first thing that helped me see that with time and effort, I could stop it.

The third realization was that I was worthy. Despite my addiction, I came to see that I was still a person of value and that I deserved love and forgiveness. I soon saw that I was worthy of the love of God. I noticed that God continued to speak to me and help guide me despite me pushing Him away. I learned to separate my actions from my sense of self-worth and to recognize that my use of pornography did not define me as a person.

I also came to realize that shame is not from God. The shame and self-loathing I felt were not helping me overcome my addiction, but rather were making things worse. It was at this point I killed the god of shame and felt a tremendous relief as I learned to accept my urges and feelings without judgment. I came to see them as an old friend who comes to visit but doesn’t have power over me, and to sit with them asking them questions to sort out my feelings and focus on making positive changes in my life.

Finally, I realized that all things can work towards my good or towards my bad, and that that choice was mine. I began to make small changes in my life, such as identifying triggers and, when triggered, to sit with those uncomfortable feelings, and focusing on the person I wanted to be.

By realizing that I was not broken, that I was not alone, and that I was of worth, I found the strength to keep going. I also learned to accept my urges and feelings without judgment, and to make choices that would work towards my good. I am amazed by how quickly the changes came after I made these connections.

• You are not broken
• You are not alone
• You are and remain of worth
• Shame is not from God
• Urges, feelings, and thoughts are not bad or wrong.
• All things can either work toward your good or toward your bad, the choice is yours.

A Letter to My Bishop

A preamble:

I’ve had this nagging feeling to write a letter telling the story of my progression from devoted but troubled believer to being so filled with shame that I turned to atheism for relief to back to devoted and no long troubled believer to the bishop. Below is the email I sent and below that is his reply that came a nerve racking 36 hours later.

Dear Bishop,

The story I’m going to share has not been shared with any other living person, not even my wife, but I feel a pressing need to share it with you and I don’t know why. Perhaps it’s to clear my conscience or just a need to share with someone.

It wasn’t that long ago I was in your office and you asked about temple and tithing. I gave you an honest but incomplete answer, I told you there had been a faith crisis about the very existence of God. That is true but what went unsaid was why and what lead me there. Confessing the faith crisis was the easier path, it was far easier to simply say I’m not a full tithe payer to escape a temple recommend interview. I am in a place now where I no longer feel plagued, no long feel as if I am sinking ever deeper in quicksand, in short I no longer feel condemned to hell, so I write this with a clear conscience knowing it’s behind me.

I grew up blurring the line between normal healthy functions of the body and what is lustful and sin. I didn’t know what I didn’t know but assumed I knew it all. My concept of Christ’s atonement was equally flawed, forgiveness for me was only available if I stopped sinning and became perfect on my own, only then would the atonement apply to me. These blurred lines and narratives, in my head, began at a very young age to fill me with shame. To feel attraction was to me the same as lusting. There was no escape for the teenage me. Growing up parallel was the idea of me always being watched. After all, I am an example of the church and Christ and people will judge one or both based on my actions. This second one gave me a real fear of being seen doing anything wrong. This idea was reinforced by the numerous times I had been caught doing extremely mild bad behavior.

While I was serving a mission I found myself fighting those same feelings I had growing up but now there was often a temptation to buy a magazine surfaced occasionally, but I didn’t for fear of getting caught. It wasn’t until after I returned home that I had my first real encounter with pornography and masturbation and began to actively seek it out. The internet was still new but I knew where to go.

I spent 10 years in the shame spiral believing I was unredeemable and destined for hell before confessing to my bishop. He told me he wanted to meet regularly and warned me that if I persisted in the behavior I could be excommunicated. He gave me a priesthood blessing before I left his office. I didn’t have another conversation with him about it until one of my daughters was “touching herself” in primary. Then the question “Could she have found one of your magazines?” I was dumbfounded, what part of 100% secret did he miss? I curtly told him no there were no magazines and that I hadn’t done anything since confession. A lie. I didn’t talk to him again till he was called to the high council. He stopped me in the hall during church and asked if I was still looking at it, to which I lied and told him no and continued feeling like a plow was running back and forth over my body.

I spent 5 more years in my secret inner turmoil before I really came to realize my story wasn’t so in common. That I wasn’t alone and the feelings I was feeling were the same that others experienced. That realization was a small ray of light in an otherwise very bleak hole. This sent me down a philosophical, religious, and psychological journey. Along this road, I heard someone say, “The only reason pornography is wrong is because of God, if there isn’t a God then there is nothing wrong with it.” It was in that moment God died in my heart and with him all that shame began to melt away.

I continued down the road of philosophical, psychological, and religious study. I told myself that just because there was no god didn’t mean there wasn’t value in religion or the scriptures. That brings this story to where I was in your office and confessing to not being sure that God even exists and allowing you to believe that is why I didn’t pay tithing.

I still had a problem. If God was dead or didn’t exist then I could view as much pornography as I wanted and not feel shame. That often used quote by that German philosopher Nietzsche came to my mind paraphrased, “God is dead, you’ve killed him, now what?” I was faced with this proposition, did I really want to be the kind of guy that looks at pornography and masturbates? The answer to that was a deafening NO! Without the shame cast on me from a now dead judgmental god I found it easier to walk away and not turn back to it. I could quit. It was no longer about trying to please someone else and became about pleasing myself. There was no force from outside of me casting judgement, I was quitting for me. I did quit for me.

Between that first conversation and now I’ve made great strides. The temptation to view pornography has practically vanished and should it return I’ve learned tools to help me process the feelings of the temptation without succumbing. I started paying tithing again primarily because I found value in the church and wanted to continue using its facilities and the gospel library app and figured it was worth paying something just for those. That has since changed a bit more since then (still a work in progress there).

I was starting to feel the embers of belief in God in my heart and that scared me because I didn’t know what was truth and what was fiction. One morning on the way to work I was listen to the next chapter in queue in the Book of Mormon and we came to Mormon chapter 9 verse 10, “And now, if ye have imagined up unto yourselves a god who doth vary, and in whom there is shadow of changing, then have ye imagined up unto yourselves a god who is not a God of miracles.” The part that stood out to me was “imagined up unto yourselves a god.” For whatever reason this felt like permission to imagine a god I could believe in. Right around that same time the thought struck me that god didn’t just die in my heart, I snuck up on him, put a covering over his head and murdered him on the alter of my heart to escape the shame and guilt I felt.

Then came our next conversation where you counseled me to not dismiss blessings from God as just a coincidence. I walked away unconvinced but it stuck with me. I heard someone quote Alma 32:28 and one line stood out to me, hitting me with great force, “if ye do not cast it out by your unbelief.” I realized that was exactly what I was doing. I was looking to disprove God not to prove Him. I think I realized right then more than any other time in my life that you find whatever it is your looking for. If you want to find evidence that god doesn’t exist you will find it, if you want to find evidence that Joseph Smith was a pious fraud then that’s what you will find. At the same time if you want to find evidence of God’s existence you will find it. If you want to find evidence of Joseph Smith as a prophet you will find it. It is far easier to rationalize away anything that is inconvenient than to persist and choose to believe God is there. Leading me to conclude that God is ok with us explaining him away so easily, who he is isn’t dependent upon our thoughts of him. It was then that in my heart I chose belief and God came back.

That’s it, we’ll that’s the short condensed version anyway. Like I said in the beginning no one not even my wife knows any of this. It has been a secret quicksand pit I stepped into as a child and spent the better part of my life struggling against. The irony here is that just like quicksand the more you struggle the deeper and harder it is to get out. It wasn’t until I quit struggling and relying on my own strength and will power that I found healing. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers on our behalf.

-Signed-

PS I really struggled to hit the send button because once I do I can’t take it back.

Reply to the letter.

Brother -,

Thank you for sharing this. I am so grateful for your faith to persist. You were on a journey. I feel like you did what was said in Alma 32 and you nourished the word so it could swell with in you. Thank you for trusting me with this and having the courage to push that send button. It is a testimony to me that tho we may set aside God at times, he remains. Your are correct Satan has used the same tactics on many, you are far from alone. Thank you for your Willingness to Share this testimony of God power in your life. It brings me strength and is an answer to my prayer on your behalf and your family. I have Had faith crisis at different times in my life that helped me to justify my actions and all it did was bring me misery and unhappiness. I hated that I couldn’t believe. It was only through a desire to change, trust in God and Belief that the Atonement was real that I was slowly pulled from my wreckage. Then came the steady progression where I could recognize Gods love for me. It continues to this day. Thank you for your continued service to our ward. I appreciate you and you family. I thank God for answered prayers. I look forward to see how he continues to bless you and your family. Have a wonderful week.

Best regards,

-Bishop-