Elder Kevin K. Miskin, an Area Seventy (local representative of the Church leadership), recently spoke to the women of our stake. The entire theme of the evening was about staying strong in the Gospel, surviving our trials, and helping others in their trials. He was referencing previous talks from the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
Why, when things are at their worst, would you jump out of the safety of the boat?
The statement that resonated with me (paraphrased) was, “Why is it that when the storms are the worst, we all have a tendency to dive headlong off the back of the boat and abandon the Gospel of Jesus Christ?” Or, as Elder M. Russell Ballard has referred to it, “the Old Ship Zion”.
Why, when things are at their worst, do we want to abandon a ship where God is at the helm? Like somehow, our frail human frame will be safer on its own floating in the sea tossed to and fro, versus staying below deck and belting ourselves in until the storm passes.
For many years now, I have been in a personal and deeply emotional struggle with my Heavenly Father. I have been more angry with Him, than I have ever been with any human being. I have felt ignored, abandoned, and punished. If my Father loves me, why has he not granted my righteous and inspired desires? I have been tossed about on the waves of high hopes and optimism and then thrown down to the depths of failure, sorrow, and humiliation.
I know how to achieve goals, you plan and prepare, then you sacrifice and you pray. For this righteous desire, I have sacrificed more than I ever planned to, more than I was prepared to, and more than I have ever given to anything else I ever accomplished.
Stay in the boat. Pray for the strength to endure.
And yet, as I road the waves of this challenge the amplitude of the highs and lows kept getting further apart. The more that I felt the hope of success, the worse the disappointments became. Until, finally I found my breaking point. I could no longer put one foot in front of the other, and keep moving. I simply had to stop.
But I want you to know that I stayed in the boat. I attended my church meetings. I did pray on occasion, when I could manage it. I served in my calling. Often, I was very quiet while in the boat — quiet, and deeply, personally very angry with my Heavenly Father.
The funny thing was, I still knew the Gospel was true. I still knew that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God, that the Book of Mormon was Another Testament of Jesus Christ, and that God calls men and women to serve in His church.
I worked at separating my confusing and disappointing personal relationship with my Father, from the testimony I had gained over years and years of personal revelation and experience. That even if I felt abandoned and ignored, my children still needed a mother who had a testimony – who showed them how much they were loved.
I stayed in the boat. And over time it got better.
My Sunday school students and ward members needed to know that they could rely on my strength. And like somehow, I owed it to all those people I loved and taught while serving a mission in Massachusetts. That maybe, even if I was a failure in all other aspects, I could do this one thing for those I loved.
But man, it would have been so easy to jump off the boat. But somehow, I knew I couldn’t. And somehow, I also couldn’t really express to anyone how deeply and personally I was feeling this anger. I tried, but it didn’t seem like anyone was ready to hear it.
Over time, peace has come. Daily peace has come, in single moments that started to add up to something sustaining. Through the power of multiple priesthood blessings, I have been reminded that I am loved, that I am not abandoned, and that all things are as they should be. And I have been reminded over and over, until I have started to believe it again. And the peace has pushed out the anger.
Stay on the Old Ship Zion. Pray for the strength to endure, even if your conflict is with the One you are praying to. Know that “this too shall pass”.
To read more of Molly’s articles, click here.
Be honest with yourself about how you feel, even when no one else is ready to listen. Acknowledge your momentary child-like weakness, and then work to fix your weakness at whatever pace you can manage.
All things are momentary compared to eternity, and we are all child-like compared to the great patience and knowledge of our Father in Heaven.
But stay in the boat. You don’t have to explain a thing. Just sit on this bench next to me and we’ll be child-like together.
Molly is on a life long quest to figure herself out. Born to be and educated as an aerospace engineer she is also blessed to be a wife and a mom of two in the present, previously served as a full-time missionary, is consistently called to teach the youth in her ward, is eagerly though slowly doing home improvement as money and time allow, all while gradually learning how to be herself and find peace and balance somewhere in between.
Despite her attempts to make “the right” decisions in her life, she has learned to deal with some unexpected challenges over the last two decades. Total tornadoes, really. What she has discovered is that her career has taught her a lot about the Gospel and being a better mother, and the Gospel, when applied to challenges at the office, has made her a better professional. She has also learned that it is okay to be herself, and God still loves (and forgives) her for it.
Twitter •
Molly, it sounds like you endured this alone, and conquered it alone. I hate that. I’m sorry. Thanks for staying in the boat. You are a strength for me.