If you stumble... you don't have to fall

I didn't post on Sunday because I had just come away from General Conference (a two day Mormon event where all the "general authorities" give talks that are inspired and beautiful).  I didn't feel like I had much to add that anyone really needed to hear, especially in the wake of all the wonderful and uplifting things I had spent two days trying (due to small children) to listen to and absorb.

I have mentioned before that I have four youngish kids.  I say youngish because my youngest is two and on her way to being potty trained...Hallelujah!  Yesterday, after bath time, she was running in the bathroom and stumbled on a towel on the floor.  She would have landed flat on her face, but I caught her and helped her steady herself.  That one thing, that smallest event in my day, really made me think.

I think I have mentioned before that I have had a rash of family and friends lately who have either left the church entirely, or who have sort of faded in their faith.  Obviously this makes me really sad.  The interesting thing is that if you talk to them, if you really drill down with them to discover when this lack of faith began, it comes down to a careless towel on the floor every time, something small, something easy to remedy, something they could have reacted to in two very different ways.  Their reaction at the time made all the difference.

What in the world is Bridget talking about now?

I mean this: a tiny little thing is always the root of our own separation from God, at least initially.

If you're still scratching your head, let me try and explain.  I have a dear friend who went to BYU.  She met and married another member of the church.  She had a faith in God and a belief in our Savior Jesus Christ.  She was married in the temple, which we believe means she was married for eternity, and not just for the time she is here on earth.  I am not exaggerating when I tell you this friend of mine shone like a star.

Until one day, someone at church said something that hurt her feelings.  She didn't want to go back the next week.  Then she started a new job that had her working on Saturdays and she felt like she had no weekend time at all.  So she stopped going regularly.  Within a few months, she was going far less than she was staying home.  Her husband came up with excuses not to go, too.  After all, going to the lake was more fun, and his wife was going, so he should go with her.  They began spending more and more time with people who did not worship Jesus Christ.  They began to feel like they were missing out because they didn't drink alcohol, because they gave money to the church instead of spending it on themselves.  The rules of the gospel began to be a burden, they began to chafe.

And my friend wondered, why in the world was I part of this church anyway?  She and her husband both stopped going, and now they're not sure if religion is anything more than a myth society tells to explain away things they couldn't figure out on their own.

I have another person, also dear to me, who has a very different start to his story.  He is one of the smartest people I know.  He studies things out, he prides himself on his intellect, and rightfully so.  Although intelligence is a gift from God, you can choose to waste it, or you can work hard to hone and develop it.  This is a person who has worked very hard in honing his intelligence.  He has gone far in his education, and also in his career.

He heard something about the church that bothered him on an intellectual level.  He began to study the gospel from an academic perspective.  Instead of reading the scriptures to feel of the Spirit, and to receive an affirmation that God lives, that God loves him, he spent his time studying things written by man.  He began to search things out to determine whether they could have happened according to our scientific version of events.  He studied the story of Moses and determined that what the Bible says took place is a scientific impossibility.

He stopped spending his time praying.  He stopped believing that the people at church who had such a lower level of education than he did had something to teach him.  He began to doubt at every turn.  He now believes that the things he has studied prove, beyond a doubt, that the church cannot be true.  He believes that the gospel, that the doctrine of Christ, are mere niceties that we have taught one another to encourage proper social behavior.

Both of these people stumbled over something different.  Both of them wound up in the same place.  Flat on their faces.  Alone, without the uplifting hand of God, and the support of the Spirit, to keep them from pain, from sorrow, from despair.

Belief in Jesus Christ, specifically, the belief that He lived, that He led a perfect life, that He died, and that He lives again, is not something that you study in school, that you examine and that you determine logically is true.  It is actually a crazy story in almost every sense of the word.  You cannot take the flawed and mortal mind of a human and puzzle out the existence and nature of the divine, of the eternal, of the Holy.  It would be like my two year old trying to make pancakes alone: a disaster.  She has the capacity to do it one day, but only if she does what I tell her to do, if she listens closely to me as she grows, and if she trusts in what she can become by following my lead.

Our loving Heavenly Father has given us scripture, He sent us a Savior and He has outlined a way for us to return, and in doing so, to become more like Him.  But we must do it with our heart, following his directions and not relying on our own minds and our own abilities to do it.

I want every single person reading this to think of anything that might be bothering them, or that might be bothering anyone they know right now, large, or more especially, small.  For me, it could have been feeling like I was dealing with a calling for too long (I am over that), or it could be my reaction to someone who was rude to me.  It could be a struggle with a historical event, it could be a problem with the poor way in which you perceive your Priesthood leaders handled an issue, or continue to handle it.  Now think about that problem, all the hurt it caused you, all the problems you have with it.  I am going to (figuratively) reach out my hand to you now just as I did for my daughter yesterday, and I know the Spirit of God will bear me out.

Let. It. Go.

That problem is a wet towel on the floor.  It is small, harmless and insignificant, but it can cause you to trip, to fall flat on your face, if you let it.  It can cause you significant pain, and it can separate you from God.  Or you can reach up and take His hand.  You can let go of your anger.  If you've already fallen on your face, you can choose to look up, and take that hand now.  It is never, ever, ever too late.  His hand is always outstretched.  It may take the form of the hand of a friend, or a family member, but take it.

Even if you stumble, recognize that everyone does, because small things happen all the time.  But see that they are small.  They are minor, these things.  Do not let any single item, event or person separate you from your God, from your faith, from your family and friends who love you, or from the joy your Heavenly Father wants to bless you with.  Let us support you, help you and uplift you.  You won't be sad you took that step of faith to let it go, whatever it is.  You won't be sad you decided to use your heart to study out the things of God, instead of relying only on your mind.  I promise.