Category Archives: Religion

Staying active in church post-divorce. Misconceptions in the church of those not familiar with divorce.

“The pupil dilates in darkness and in the end finds light, just as the soul dilates in misfortune and in the end finds God.”
–Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

Letter to my missionary

Dearest [Daughter],

I sit here before a blank slate, wondering what to say. What have been the lessons of the week? I’ve been thinking of [your brother] all week, with his birthday nearing. You were so thoughtful to have thought of my birthday long beforehand, so [your sister] could deliver your wonderful and personal card on the day. Knowing that alone made the card touching and meaningful. The boy, my son, one whom I love dearly. Where is he? How is he? What is he thinking? How can I show my love to him? What does he do with his time? Who are his friends? Does he think of his Heavenly Father? Does he know that he’s loved of so many? Does he know I love him?

This year, as last, I bought the same birthday gift for all of my boys, as I did all of my girls. The boys I bought Liahona tie tacks. And for [your brother], as this is his 25th birthday, I included a cake mix and several varied kinds of wonderful candles, including mini birthday cake sparklers [his birthday is on the 4th of July]. For the girls … well, you’ll have to wait.

So what did I learn this week? On a weekend when I was to have [your younger brother and sister] stay with me but they were at youth conference, and thinking of [your older brother] and his upcoming birthday, then for some reason having half a dozen people today at church ask me out of the blue how my children are, and three of them asking, “How is your missionary?,” and feeling so sad at being so distanced from you all … but I didn’t share that part, but just that they’re doing wonderfully. And they are. But I had one thought that I shared with my good friend Sam today when he asked how you’re doing. …

When [your oldest brother] left on his mission, having just been separated from my family myself, I realized quickly that even though he was thousands of miles away, I was closer to him than the rest of my children. I felt disconnected from their daily lives. The rest were either out of the home on their own, or spending most of their time with their mother. But [he] was in this other world, the world of a mission. I was also on a mission, away from my family, learning on my own, serving and doing things that my family was not a part of. It was like [he] and I were on missions together. It was a sad day when he returned from his mission … but I didn’t return from mine. I lost that connection with him. The same happened with [his younger brother]. I joyed in every step of his mission too, as I did “mine.” But when he returned, I again shed real tears, knowing that I’d now lose touch with him as I had the others of my children, as he integrated back into the family that I was not part of.

I have a kinship with what you’re experiencing, because we’re away from our family on our own missions, and they know little of the details of what you and I are doing. But we are serving and loving and doing our best to bring God’s children back to Him.

Our Father in Heaven also misses us, and joys when we reach out to Him.

I run across pictures of you occasionally. I was struck a couple years ago that every picture of you I see shows a face of purity and godliness. This one happens to be open on my screen because I scanned it recently. It may not be a good quality picture, but your eyes, like every picture I find of you, is of the highest quality, showing simplicity … or simply put, the Light of Christ.

I love you dear daughter. I love what you’re doing. You are doing God’s will and you and others are blessed for it.

The lesson of this week: I love each of my children … and God loves his.

Love always,

Dad

Suicide

I haven’t considered writing about suicide until the last couple weeks. Is it an issue with single fathers?

The son of some good friends is just starting the divorce process. His wife asked him to leave three weeks ago, so now he’s back with Mom and Dad.

At the request of our bishop and my own desire to assist, I connected with him to provide support.

I’ve seldom seen such anger. But I know where it comes from. He has the most darling two-year-old daughter, and is being kept from her, and living an hour’s drive away. And as all divorced fathers know, there is little more gut-wrenching than being rejected by someone you love.

How difficult it is to leave my children with my ex after my little time with them, and head home alone! It’s gotten easier. But I vividly remember crying inside, and often openly, on the way home those first years, and feeling incredible anger that I couldn’t choose when I wanted to see my own children! How could a piece of paper, a divorce decree that I never wanted, stand between me and my children? I was imprisoned. In my case the anger wasn’t at first as much directed toward my ex, as toward the entire inconceivable situation. But then it was directed toward her because there was nobody else I could direct it to. With a seeming touch of her finger she had pushed the first domino that set in process a system that bound me hand and foot from ever again being a significant part of my family. There was no face to the “family” law system that allowed and supported the insanity I was now being subjected to. The lawyer who helped my ex through the divorce process, who I disdained at the time, was long gone from the scene and I’d only seen him once anyway.

So yes, even mild-mannered me often got angry, even though it was not always intentionally directed toward the woman I had loved for 27 years, and still did, but now in a different way.

I got on the freeway one Thursday evening, in the dark, overwhelmingly hurt and exasperated. My natural instinct to love, protect, and be with my children was blocked. I grew angry. I was lonely, empty, with nobody to turn to, heading home to an empty apartment, leaving my family of eight, five of whom were still at home, to laugh and play, do homework, and enjoy the rest of a happy evening together, then all go to their own rooms and slumber peacefully, while I was being kept from what mattered most to me, confined to a little empty apartment to slumber fitfully and awake after four or five hours, exhausted but unable to sleep for the incessant hamsters on the wheels of my brain churning over every imaginable thought. So I had this nearly overwhelming desire to end it all. Driving up I-15 I pictured a cement wall on the side of the freeway that I could run into. It was real in my mind. I can still picture it, my foot pressing on the gas, pedal to the metal at breakneck speed as I neared that wall. …

I wouldn’t have done that, but the image, desire, and feelings were real.

Numerous other times I’ve prayed to the heavens that some mountain would fall and cause me to cease to exist so I could end the pain.

But knowing this would only end my mortal life. The spiritual me would continue on, I knew suicide was not the answer. But I still prayed I could cease to exist in every form, to end the pain.

I had told myself I wouldn’t share these things. They aren’t “me.” But sharing and trying to lift the burdens of my dear friend these last few weeks has made me realize that others have these feelings. But he may actually consider it.

Experience #2:

A number of years ago I was counselor in an LDS bishopric. The Bishop and I visited a young family that had just moved into our neighborhood. I was struck by the beauty of the home, but more so by the handsome and clean-cut father, beautiful wife, and three immaculate and happy children.

I have a good friend the past six or so years who was three years ago office manager for a legal firm. Her firm had donated a grand sum of money to a local charity, and in return got eight seats at a table and dinner at a posh hotel, one of the finest in Salt Lake. I was her companion. Except for one, the events of the evening are for another time and place.

During the indescribably wonderful meal I looked over her shoulder and saw at a neighboring table that same young man. He was with a woman I didn’t recognize, who by her dress and demeanor I could assume was not active in Church and likely not a member. Her provocative dress and appearance exuded worldliness and lust.

My heart sank for this man. I pictured his now ex wife and children living a separate life, a broken family.

This last weekend I was with my married son, his wife and son, and my two younger children, to walk Temple Square to admire the Christmas lights and get lost in the throngs of happy people. We began the evening at the food court of the neighboring mall. I’ve seldom seen so many people, shoulder to shoulder sitting in every chair and filling every space. As I sat with my children I turned to my married son and my attention was grabbed by a man walking behind him … this same young man I’d see a couple years earlier and visited with our bishop years before that. He was with yet another woman.

For some reason my Father in Heaven wanted me to see him again. Amidst the bustle, I couldn’t share with my children these three experiences, but did later when we were in the solitude of the car.

I’m concerned about my new friend, son of my friends, who told me a couple weeks ago he doesn’t plan to stay active in the church. “It has done no good for me,” or so he thinks in his anger. His anger and choices may lead him down the same road as this young father of my three encounters. Will he, as with Scrooge, allow his experiences to eventually turn him around, to “come to himself” and remember the goodness the Christ has brought him?

As I’ve shared with him and considered my own experience, there are a few things that have kept me sane and active in the Church, which now over time have been undeniably good choices:

  • My children. I’ve seen too many children of fathers who have removed themselves from their children’s lives or left the church. These children often leave the Church or flounder themselves. Those I know seem quiet and confused. I want to find data on this.
  • My own life is vastly different than it would be had I left activity in the Church (which would certainly have been the “easier” choice; it took incredible willpower to attend church).
  • I have good, clean, and supportive friends. The darkness of the “other” life I could have had I’ve seen in the eyes of too many men who remarry and remarry, and to remarry again.
  • I have joy. Yes, in spite of indescribable sadness, I have joy and peace in my life. The sadness is there, never-ending and painful. But I know that part of this life’s experience is to see if I’ll remain faithful to my Father in Heaven and my covenants in spite of my trials.
  • My decision to work in the temple baptistery set a foundation spirituality that has affected me deeply.

Was that answer to my prayer from above, or my own answer?

Most of us have wondered about prayers and their answers. We hear of a dating couple where one gets an answer that they are to marry, but the other doesn’t. We’ve all prayed for something important to us, then wonder if we trust to get an answer, then when we think we have received an answer, we wonder if we heard correctly. We lack faith and are unsure. We desire to have a Liahona with words we can read, not just feel. Sometimes we tire of trusting in the Holy Ghost, or more accurately, trusting that what we hear was the Holy Ghost and not our own thoughts or feelings.

I’ve had a few wonderful years of learning. Many of my posts talk of that learning.

But what about this issue of prayer? My wife told me she went to the temple and prayed and was told to go through with divorce. Both then and now I trust her. She’s a spiritual woman.

I hesitate giving the detail I just did, because saying she filed for divorce and not me may tell you I blame her. As with both your divorce and mine, we each play a part in a failing marriageasd. And I don’t want to put too much focus on the past (although I have in a number of posts), because we must move forward. We must remember the past and learn from it, but we can’t dwell there and let it hold us back (sometimes easier said than done being human and constantly bombarded by whisperings of evil ones beyond our veil).

Since my divorce I’ve had in the back of my mind the question, “How could my wife have felt that is was of God to break up our family, when the Church (and the scriptures) so clearly state that divorce is not of God, that is is a major cause of the failing of our society?” I’ve wondered often about this. My divorce made no sense from the light of scripture, when to me it says divorce is clearly forbidden but in certain cases, and even then it was never condoned, but allowed because of the weakness of men.

Last year I received a personal sermon while our good bishop was teaching the adult fifth-Sunday lesson. I believe the lesson was on missionary work (more the neighborly type than the knock-on-a-door-with-a-Book-of-Mormon type). We were in Alma 29. (Isn’t that the one we sometimes call the Psalm of Alma?) My eyes fell upon verse 4:

Alma 29:4: I ought not to harrow up in my desires the firm decree of a just God, for I know that he granteth unto men according to their desire, whether it be unto death or unto life; yea, I know that he allotteth unto men, yea, decreeth unto them decrees which are unalterable, according to their wills, whether they be unto salvation or unto destruction.

Before we jump into that verse in detail, remember the story of Joseph Smith praying that he might let Martin Harris borrow the pages of the translation so that Martin could show his wife? It’s a rich story, little of which I’ll share. But Joseph had given a tremendous effort to the translation work. Although it became easier as he honed his gift, that first work certainly took great effort.

When I arrived in the mission field out of the MTC, I decided to read the Book of Mormon from cover to cover in French. I knew it would help me hone my mission language. As I began I was looking up in the dictionary every few words. It was tedious, laborious, and time consuming. Over the days, weeks and months, as the verses and chapters progressed, it became easier and even enjoyable, to the point that I was not only learning the language, but learning from what I was reading. Now I read the entire book in French every few years with ease.

Joseph’s experience I suspect was the same. Those first verses and chapters were slow to translate. Word by word he struggled to understand what he was translating. Verse by verse, then chapters came, until the excitement of finishing the Book of Lehi. I’m sure it thrilling and enlightening. He was filled with the Holy Ghost and the wonder of the effort it took to complete that first translation, and the importance of he was reading. I’m sure he wanted to share this. When his good and trusted friend Martin came to him asking if he could borrow the translation, he saw and felt no reason not to. The excitement of the work, the desire to share it with others and help counter the negative attention he was getting, likely all gave him the desire to accept Martin’s request. After one prayer, then repeated prayers and the requests of the Lord to allow this, Joseph’s wish was granted, the Lord knowing well the dangers … and what would finally transpire.

We know from hindsight that about 1200 years earlier Mormon was impressed to include both the books of Lehi and Nephi, as near as they were in content, in what is now the Book of Mormon. The loss of the Book of Lehi became less serious than it could have been.

So back to Alma 29. Alma is emptying his heart to our Father in Heaven. He is filled with the desire to yell to the entire world the joy he feels is knowing Christ, and with a thunderous voice to tell people to repent! He wants to be like an angel, and fly through skies to declare the word of God! His desires are righteous, and certainly exuberant. So in the process of calming himself down, he says he should be content to work with the people to whom he has been assigned to preach and not request of God things that are not God’s desire for him. And in the process, states that God will give to men what they desire, even if it is bad.

Then comes a repeat of that principle in the next verse:

Alma 29:5: Yea, and I know that good and evil have come before all men; he that knoweth not good from evil is blameless; but he that knoweth good and evil, to him it is given according to his desires, whether he desireth good or evil, life or death, joy or remorse of conscience.

So that entire fifth hour I pondered and reread those verses, and read them in context of the entire chapter.

Is it true that a young woman or young man, praying about marriage to the other, may desire that marriage so deeply that the Lord will answer that yes, that marriage is right, even while he tells the other that it is not right, all because one of them desires it so deeply?

Is it then likewise true that a wife may pray for confirmation of divorce, and desiring that divorce, would get the desired confirmation?

Apparently so.

One thing that has brought me comfort in this learning of mine is that regardless of the rightness or wrongness of the choice to divorce, a wise Father in Heaven foresaw the outcome, and as with the Book of Lehi, provided a backup plan.

Now for me to see that plan. That has not been easy. How can a father be a father seeing his children only a few hours a month?

I am lucky to have an ex active in the Church. But she requested that when they turned 12, that they no longer attend church with me to avoid splitting their youth programs. So my two teens at the time no longer stayed over Sunday, which once that ended, then they started not coming on my weekends at all, and I was lucky to see them on my weeknight. I began losing contact with them almost entirely. I cannot describe my grief at losing contact with my own children. I encouraged my ex to encourage those two to at least come when they could, but with school activities, youth activities, and friends, it was easier to find excuses, especially when we lived almost a half-hour drive apart. And I didn’t want to force the issue to make my relationship worse with those two. These were the hardest couple years of my life.

It didn’t help that I sensed that even though my ex had promised she would never speak negatively of me, the request to not be with me on Sundays, the lack of good comments that there would be in a normal marriage relationship, and indirect and non-verbal communication, all played into giving those two a negative view of me.

At this time the prompting came to me that there was no more important thing I could do with my children than to worship with them. Regardless of the awkwardness of participating in two youth programs, family was more important than youth programs. So as my next two have come of age, 12, to attend Young Men and Young Women, although my ex made no positive or negative comment to me, the topic never came up and now my two youngest attend my ward’s Sunday youth activities (but not the weeknight activities).

Is this a “backup plan”? It’s feeble at best, and I still don’t feel like an active father in my children’s lives. I have to take a step back and realize I likely have it better than most fathers, and that perhaps in the grand scheme of life, in the long run, my Father’s backup plan involves more than just the few years I have seen so far. Perhaps it extends 1200 years into the time beyond the veil for me and them. Perhaps my children came into this world having known beforehand and accepting that they would be experiencing these less-than-ideal situations.

I can only pray, and be thankful I have what I have. So many millions of God’s children have life so much worse.