Struggling In Faith. You Almost Lost The Sassy Mormon

A few weeks ago, I wanted to walk away from the church.

As far as new converts go, I was doing well. I was making sacrament meeting every Sunday, I was making sure to spend at least an hour of personal study each day so I could get my daily dose of spiritual vitamins but something was off.

Its hard to explain why I wanted to walk away. At first I thought it was because I lost my little sister Anna who went to Grenada and I assumed that the reason I was so numb was simply due to missing her like crazy. Then I assumed that the feelings I felt somehow was due to church drama and a less than pretty spat I had with a few members at church (that's a whole other story) but it still wasn't that.

I wanted to leave and I had absolutely no clue why!!!

For a minute, I thought about making the ultimate step to sever ties with my church family. I left the Whatsapp Relief Society group I belonged to and began speaking less and less in Gospel Principles class. I smiled even though I was feeling that disconnect that I couldn't explain.

I thought about seeking help but fear of letting anyone know I was struggling was making it almost impossible to have lessons with the sister missionaries. Whether they noticed the change or I had pulled an Academy award performance I will probably never know but in my heart I felt more disconnected than I ever had.

It's hard to put you finger on what's bothering you when you have no clue what it truly is that is causing your journey to be filled with potholes (ask your Caribbean missionaries what these are)

Honestly, there was less than impressive moments from your Sassy Mormon. I reverted back to Angry Pre-Baptism Ramona and for a few weeks I stewed and simmered trying to rack my brain, writing angsty letters to Sister Fuller who by now believes that I should be committed to an asylum.

In my frustration my immediate thoughts were to reach out to the people who had been there for me from the beginning. Still I was skeptical, not wanting to bother anyone or make them upset by my innermost turmoil. In that moment I doubted not only my faith but I doubted my church family and the missionaries.

I wanted to carry my burdens alone.

I didn't need to but being the stubborn person I am, I would never accept help. Being the child of a very proud half English/Nigerian mother meant I prided myself on always being strong.

Struggling in faith is never something we should do alone. We are fortunate to have extended family members from around the world to help and guide us through our hardships. During this time, I realize how fortunate I am. Not everyone can have a Sister Buhrley, Sister Fuller or the countless people how have rallied around my mom and I in our new path to righteousness.

Faith isn't something we need to struggle with alone.

I know that now