Even in Seattle, where we are “used to” the rain, it could still be depressing. Some days I loved the rain. The smell of fresh rain always brought a sense of newness, refreshing, and life-giving. In Washington we knew that the winter rains would bring beautiful spring tulips and daffodils, and keep our grass and forests verdant year round. But sometimes, after a particularly rainy week, the clouds seemed to just bring darkness. Blocked from sunlight, it was isolating and dreary.
The first week of November 2012 was one of those sunless, tiresome weeks. My mind and heart were already heavy, and the rain wasn’t helping. I was struggling with the upcoming election and Washington’s vote on Gay Marriage. I was still very active at church, even though the doubts I had were deepening. But I was confused about the church’s stance on Gay Marriage. The church had been actively involved in the California campaign for Proposition 8. I remember talking to people who spent Wednesday night activities going door to door. I knew of the money that was donated, the hours spent by the members to campaign, and the urging from church leaders to support the cause. That was just 4 years prior. But now that we faced a similar ballot in Washington, we heard nothing. Had the church changed their stance? Why weren’t we being asked to mobilize against gay marriage? Don’t get me wrong, the last thing I wanted to do was knock on doors (I did that for 18 months on a mission, which was more than enough for a life time) and ask people to vote against it. And why was the church so against it in the first place? I knew the church’s views on marriage, but I had always been taught about free agency. It didn’t make sense to me that we would be against gay rights. After all, it was their agency to choose whom to marry, just like it was my agency to marry J.T. I was torn. And just like the dark rain clouds outside, I felt heavy and burdened.
When I was brave enough to share my doubts, I was directed back to The Family Proclamation: “Marriage between a man and woman is ordained of God”. I knew that was the belief for the Temple (although the wording might be better “between a man and a woman, and another woman if he chooses”) but did that have anything to do with legal marriage? The vote wasn’t whether it was “ordained of God” but if it was their legal right to equality in marriage. It just didn’t feel right to deny that. I was just as confused as ever. Then I was told the story that was once shared by Marion G. Romney where he was told “always keep your eye on the President of the Church and if he ever tells you to do anything, and it is wrong, and you do it, the Lord will bless you for it.” So there I was, staring at my ballot. Feeling like opposing gay marriage was morally wrong. But knowing that the prophet had spoken against it, and knowing that if I ignored my conscience and “followed the prophet” I would be blessed.
It was pouring down rain, and time was running out. I knew I needed to take my ballot in before the poles closed. I pulled on my rain coat and loaded three small children into the car. It’s funny how time can slow down and imprint on our mind in moments like this. I remember that night so vividly. I remember how dark it felt as I was driving to Maple Valley, where the closest Elementary School was open late to accept ballots. I remember my kids asking where we were going, and I was trying to explain freedom, voting, presidential elections, and gay marriage in a way that 3 children under 6 could understand. I am pretty sure I trailed off into my thoughts, hoping they wouldn’t interrupt the silence. I pulled into the parking lot and followed the winding line of tail lights. I was relieved when I saw that there were volunteers outside in plastic ponchos and excited smiles. They carried the ballot boxes right up to the cars. I looked back at my exhausted children, grateful that I didn’t need to go through the ordeal of unbuckling and trudging through the downpour to cast my vote. I slipped the envelope into the box, and looked up at the volunteer holding it. A terrible guilt swept over me as we made eye contact.
When I drove out of the parking lot, onto the highway, I was overcome with emotion. I pulled my car quickly off onto the muddy shoulder, laid my head down on the steering wheel, and broke down in tears. I remember Blake’s little voice asking what was wrong. He has always had a tender heart. How could I tell my children what I had done?? That I had just voted against my conscience, because I felt like my church wanted me to. Even 4 years later, I am filled with shame just writing about that night. Sharing my cowardice with all of you brings it all rushing back. Those thick clouds seem to be hovering over me now, I can smell the rain, and feel the oppression of the darkness.
After the tears stopped, I drove quietly home, with my kids falling asleep in the back seat. The one redeeming hope that lifted me up, was the fact that I was in Washington, a beautifully blue state. I knew that the other voters would compensate for my weakness. I knew that mine was a small drop in the bucket. I knew that overall my opposing vote was probably meaningless, except for the pain it was causing me.
When I woke up the next morning the state was already celebrating it’s victory. Happiness filled my soul as I watched people on the news hugging and crying with joy. I felt like an imposter, secretly celebrating with them, even though I had just voted against it. Overnight, Washington state changed, and so did I.
I knew that what President Romney taught was false. I could no longer believe that God would bless me for following a prophet even if he was wrong. Why would God give me a conscience, my own ability to discern right and wrong, and then tell me to ignore it in favor of a prophet? Later on, I found out that some members of the church did, in fact, vote for gay marriage. I was shocked at their ability to hear the teachings from the church and make their own defiant decision! I don’t actually think they were being defiant. I think they just had a better sense of truth. They had an ability to trust themselves, in a way that I never did. It had never even occurred to me. The church had always been so black and white. It was true or false. It was right or wrong. It was follow the prophet or follow satan. It was exact obedience. What was this new gray zone? And could I find peace there?
From that moment, I knew that if God ever asked me to choose between a prophet and my conscience again, next time, I would make the right choice.
(since I know we all love references, this is the talk from Pres. Romney)
Back In The Narrative 
I totally respect you and have had some of the same feelings you’ve expressed. I, thankfully, have found a way to be a member of the church and stay true to my conscience (well, I am continually working on it.) I cannot deny certain aspects of the gospel or the goodness that is so much of our church. No church is perfect. No one is perfect. No choice in life is perfect. So whether you have stayed or left, there are so many people that have felt what you felt that day and continue to struggle with conflicting feelings regarding teachings and opinions in the “church”. Thank goodness for the Gospel of Jesus Christ (totally different things in my opinion.) I wish the “culture” that is so dominant in our religion (especially here in Utah) wasn’t so overbearing, but it is. And I am still working on finding my peace with that. I have a friend who has struggled with a lot of the same things as well including just showing up to church (me too) and we had a great conversation recently about how the church is our “Tribe” just like Catholicism or Judaism is the “tribe” for members of those faiths. It’s my history, my heritage, a part of who I am. I am a spiritual person by nature (in all the weird ways) and I actually really love religion and taking my family to church. At the end of the day I want to raise my family taking them to church on Sundays, being a part of a religious family and community etc and I can’t imagine ever belonging to another faith. Maybe it’s all I know, but isn’t that why so many people belong to the faith they do? Anyway, I don’t write any of this to oppose what you wrote or try to tell you that you should have stayed etc. I just know there are readers struggling with some of the same things you have struggle with who might like to know that there are others who struggle as well who have found (or are continually working to find) peach in our religion. You hit the nail on the head that you have to stay true to your conscience and I am pretty certain that as a member of any religion (because they are all run and operated by imperfect human beings) you deal with that same thing. Staying true to your convictions even when they conflict with what is being preached from the pulpit. I have had many conversations with family and friends where my opinion is different than theirs about this very topic you wrote about and I always say “well, when the church changes their stance you will know where I stood for many years.” Keep sharing. I love reading. <3.
LikeLike
Anonymous, your comment makes me want to throw up. You say no church is perfect, well the Mormon church claims it is, it’s just made up of imperfect members running it. You also said there are no perfect choices in life, which I completely disagree with also. Marrying my wife was a perfect choice, leaving the church was a perfect choice, having two amazing kids was a perfect choice. Sorry your life is full of imperfect choices. Lastly, you said “Thank goodness for the gospel of Jesus Christ.” That’s a good fairytell, but I prefer Jack and the Beanstalk. That’s as far as I read on your post because I couldn’t read anymore. Cheers.
Katie, great blog post.
LikeLike
Ah man, you should have kept reading… it was awesome!
LikeLike
Thank you so much for sharing your perspective. I can totally relate with the feeling of a “tribe”. That was a very difficult aspect of leaving the church, this is my tribe. This is my history, my ancestry, and so much of what has formed me.
I also respect your ability to stay true to your beliefs, even when they are different than mine.
LikeLike
I remember as a kid during election times there was a statement read from the pulpit that basically said something about the separation of church and state and that the church would not use the pulpit or its presence to influence the way the congregation would vote.
It then went on to encourage members to pray and study before casting a vote.
I thought that was really cool. I wasn’t able to vote yet, but this message always got my attention. As I pondered, I realized that in my home we were never told which way we should vote (if we could) My dad didn’t even tell my Mom how to vote, that was entirely up to her.
In my little kid mind I totally likened election times to the time in the pre-existence when there were two suggested plans for our salvation (my knowledge of doctrine might be a little wonky here – cut me some slack, I’m going off of memories from flannel board presentations) and Satan wanted us to all be forced to do the things necessary and Jesus wanted us to have free agency to choose for ourselves, even knowing that some might choose poorly.
And then there was a big vote! (Or maybe a big bloody battle, but war scared the poo out of me as a kid so I probably covered my eyes when those felt pieces were put up) (anyway fast forward to when I took my hand off my eyes – or when my wandering attention wandered back) It was decided Jesus’ plan was the one we would follow and we all rejoiced and we were excited to get down to earth and enjoy the freedom and responsibility of agency.
Is there a word limit on comments? I kinda got rambly-sorry. All that was just to give some background understanding about how absolutely hurt and confused I was when the church openly and aggressively campaigned against gay marriage. It didn’t make sense at all.
First of all – we’ve all been given agency. Wouldn’t it jive more with Satan’s plan to force everyone to either partake in ‘ordained marriages’ or not be married at all? Second of all – what happened to all the comforting and empowering words that the church would not use its presence to influence politics, and would expect each individual to study and pray to guide their votes?
But Most of All – What about all those sweet songs and scriptures that said “Jesus said love everyone, treat them kindly too”?
I watched you wrestle with this. I remember the anguish and frustration you felt and how hard you were trying to do the right thing.
I am so sorry you had such a difficult time. But I am so proud of you for not simply labeling a box ‘voting conscience vs. following church leaders’ and pushing the discomfort to the back of your mind to be sorted out later. I’m so pleased you rolled up your sleeves and you worked hard to examine and understand your heart, your thoughts, your compassion and your testimony – and that you are choosing to be true to yourself and what you know to be right in your heart.
Love you Sis
LikeLike
Love this! Thanks so much for your support Karen, you have been here for me every step of the way. Love you too.
LikeLike
Thank you for the moving, vulnerable post. I am so sorry you felt such discomfort and sadness on that rainy November day. Makes me wish we could go back in time and have you and JT on our disgusting red couches in our living room with our kids running amok through the house so Lolly and I could support you in the sadness you so well described. I’m SO GLAD you are feeling peace and clarity these few years later. I know that that peace and clarity has been hard won, and I love reading about your journey.
Also: VERDANT!!!! 😉
LikeLike
I know! verdant! I did it! (Just for you.)
LikeLike
Ditto what Josh said! Love you!
LikeLike
I absolutely love this post. I’ve always felt this way and never had the words to express it as eloquently as you do. This particular issue was one of the first thorns that started poking my side about the church. It started for me in high school since I had a few gay friends and I knew my parents wouldn’t approve, and being young it confused me why my friends “dating preference” would make my parents uncomfortable. It was the start of the stack of metaphorical shoe boxes to be tucked away in my closet. Thank you for sharing.
LikeLike