Not much.
That's the truth. Nothing. Let me tell you about it:
In earlier posts I've talked about my testimony and how I gained it. I was raised in the LDS Church, had regular and often moments as a teenager where I felt the Holy Ghost —felt God communicating with me, heart-to-heart— but nothing real concrete. Then, as a missionary, I had a moment while reading the Book of Mormon looking for references to the Savior, that was an unmistakable experience of overwhelming joy and celestial burning, like a taste or a sniff of what Eternal Life would be like. Like my soul was on fire, blue fire, searing God's brand onto my spirit.
I continued to have experiences with the Spirit and the Holy Ghost, but my intellectual mind could and would find ways to rationalize them as, "Maybes". Maybe I felt that, maybe I didn't. Again, nothing concrete, but worth noting all the same.
When life got hard and huge, huge struggles pulled and tugged at my testimony, testing my intellect, my optimism, my hope, my determination, all those "maybe" experiences would fall away, unable to withstand the storms. If my testimony, my determination and faithfulness to the Gospel of Jesus Christ were founded only on those things, I don't think I could have lasted. In fact, I know I wouldn't have lasted.
But that one experience as a missionary always stuck with me. I could not get away from that, no matter what I tried (and there were definitely times that I tried to get away from it) It held me down like a string to a kite, or an anchor for a ship. A flag pole to the flag. It keep me centered no matter which direction the storm blew from, and it blew from all directions. It was a direct witness of the Savior Jesus Christ, and it grounded me when life fell apart and kept me grounded when my house kept getting torn down.
Like Helaman 5:12 (my favorite scripture, by the way), I had a foundation built on Christ and nothing could shake me from it.
Then, most of the storms passed, and while the wind still blows, it's not like the hurricanes I was dealing with before.
For the past few years, I've been working on and writing a book about humanity, biology, and self-improvement. My goal is to reach out mostly to those who are no longer religious, or don't want to be. It's not an attempt to convert anyone in any way, and simply offers to help everyone see how much we have in common with each other and how we are all "in this" together and offer ways and insights to how anyone can become a better person, from wherever they are in life with provable scientific studies and simple natural observations.
In researching for the book and supplementing my knowledge of anatomy, biology, and hormones, one day, my brain received an unexpected idea. It was a possible explanation for what happened to me that day as a missionary, and it was purely biological, hormonal, and natural, and it fit pretty well. In other words, maybe my experience wasn't spiritual but was a strong hormonal response to some emotions I had that I felt were being fulfilled by my beliefs. A nice, strong, shot of dopamine and oxytocin from the hope that the Gospel, the scriptures, and my life choices all gave to me in that moment.
Huh.
Well, that's kind of interesting. So what was I going to do now? The one spiritual, otherworldly, anchor that I'd depended on for so long wasn't holding up as strong as it did before. I wasn't ready to dismiss it outright, because the truth is, I don't know if what I felt was more biological or more spiritual, it could be either. And the funny thing was, it didn't change how I felt about the church at all. If what I felt had been spiritual, than, heck yes I was gonna hang on.
That's the truth. Nothing. Let me tell you about it:
In earlier posts I've talked about my testimony and how I gained it. I was raised in the LDS Church, had regular and often moments as a teenager where I felt the Holy Ghost —felt God communicating with me, heart-to-heart— but nothing real concrete. Then, as a missionary, I had a moment while reading the Book of Mormon looking for references to the Savior, that was an unmistakable experience of overwhelming joy and celestial burning, like a taste or a sniff of what Eternal Life would be like. Like my soul was on fire, blue fire, searing God's brand onto my spirit.
 |
| Yeah, this is how it felt, no joke. Best way to describe it. |
I continued to have experiences with the Spirit and the Holy Ghost, but my intellectual mind could and would find ways to rationalize them as, "Maybes". Maybe I felt that, maybe I didn't. Again, nothing concrete, but worth noting all the same.
When life got hard and huge, huge struggles pulled and tugged at my testimony, testing my intellect, my optimism, my hope, my determination, all those "maybe" experiences would fall away, unable to withstand the storms. If my testimony, my determination and faithfulness to the Gospel of Jesus Christ were founded only on those things, I don't think I could have lasted. In fact, I know I wouldn't have lasted.
But that one experience as a missionary always stuck with me. I could not get away from that, no matter what I tried (and there were definitely times that I tried to get away from it) It held me down like a string to a kite, or an anchor for a ship. A flag pole to the flag. It keep me centered no matter which direction the storm blew from, and it blew from all directions. It was a direct witness of the Savior Jesus Christ, and it grounded me when life fell apart and kept me grounded when my house kept getting torn down.
 |
| That tiny line is the only thing keeping that kite up in the air, no matter how are the wind blows |
Like Helaman 5:12 (my favorite scripture, by the way), I had a foundation built on Christ and nothing could shake me from it.
 |
| How long do you think that lighthouse has been standing up against such storms? |
Then, most of the storms passed, and while the wind still blows, it's not like the hurricanes I was dealing with before.
For the past few years, I've been working on and writing a book about humanity, biology, and self-improvement. My goal is to reach out mostly to those who are no longer religious, or don't want to be. It's not an attempt to convert anyone in any way, and simply offers to help everyone see how much we have in common with each other and how we are all "in this" together and offer ways and insights to how anyone can become a better person, from wherever they are in life with provable scientific studies and simple natural observations.
In researching for the book and supplementing my knowledge of anatomy, biology, and hormones, one day, my brain received an unexpected idea. It was a possible explanation for what happened to me that day as a missionary, and it was purely biological, hormonal, and natural, and it fit pretty well. In other words, maybe my experience wasn't spiritual but was a strong hormonal response to some emotions I had that I felt were being fulfilled by my beliefs. A nice, strong, shot of dopamine and oxytocin from the hope that the Gospel, the scriptures, and my life choices all gave to me in that moment.
Huh.
Well, that's kind of interesting. So what was I going to do now? The one spiritual, otherworldly, anchor that I'd depended on for so long wasn't holding up as strong as it did before. I wasn't ready to dismiss it outright, because the truth is, I don't know if what I felt was more biological or more spiritual, it could be either. And the funny thing was, it didn't change how I felt about the church at all. If what I felt had been spiritual, than, heck yes I was gonna hang on.
And if it wasn't... well, I had plenty of other experiences with the church that have validated all the hope and energy I've put into it. It's not a perfect church and it doesn't claim to be. It claims to be God's Church that he is letting us build up, and it claims to have the most truth of any on the planet. And in my wide studies and experiences, both those claims hold up. The good it has done ENORMOUSLY outweighs any of the mistakes it's leaders may or may not have made (depending on your faith, perspective, or both). And the principles and ideas it teaches can heal the world, if we apply them correctly, and that takes practice and experience. God is willing to let us figure a lot of those things out with time, patience, and even through trial and error.
I've had so many positive experiences, and so many times that my faith has been fulfilled, so many times when my trust in God was well-founded and even rewarded, that nothing changed. When I received that idea, that notion, about my testimony's foundation, that seemed to weaken it, my feelings to and determination for keeping the faith, didn't change. That surprised me, quite a bit.
So, while I no longer feel such a solid anchor to a singular experience that I used to, that experience did such a great job keeping me grounded for so long, I'm not ready to dismiss it at the sign of a "possible" explanation from biology. I've set down enough other anchors and ties that I hope I'll be safe for a long while, yet, and I'm thankful to God for giving me those anchors.
The slack is off that line momentarily, but I'm guessing the storms and wind will pick up again. Perhaps I'll depend on that experience again. Even if I'm not going to put so much weight on it, that doesn't mean it's not strong enough to handle it, nor that it was poorly founded to begin with. Faced with the alternatives out there, I'll cling to it and the other anchors I have like the lifelines they are with a death grip that no one on this planet can shake me from.
Like the thousands of balloons lifting Mr. Fredrickson's house in the movie, "UP", losing a few doesn't change much, nor does it mean I should abandon the rest, and if I protect them from the damage that others try to impose, I should be able to stay aloft for quite a while and even add to them with more time and experience and investment.
I've had so many positive experiences, and so many times that my faith has been fulfilled, so many times when my trust in God was well-founded and even rewarded, that nothing changed. When I received that idea, that notion, about my testimony's foundation, that seemed to weaken it, my feelings to and determination for keeping the faith, didn't change. That surprised me, quite a bit.
So, while I no longer feel such a solid anchor to a singular experience that I used to, that experience did such a great job keeping me grounded for so long, I'm not ready to dismiss it at the sign of a "possible" explanation from biology. I've set down enough other anchors and ties that I hope I'll be safe for a long while, yet, and I'm thankful to God for giving me those anchors.
The slack is off that line momentarily, but I'm guessing the storms and wind will pick up again. Perhaps I'll depend on that experience again. Even if I'm not going to put so much weight on it, that doesn't mean it's not strong enough to handle it, nor that it was poorly founded to begin with. Faced with the alternatives out there, I'll cling to it and the other anchors I have like the lifelines they are with a death grip that no one on this planet can shake me from.
Like the thousands of balloons lifting Mr. Fredrickson's house in the movie, "UP", losing a few doesn't change much, nor does it mean I should abandon the rest, and if I protect them from the damage that others try to impose, I should be able to stay aloft for quite a while and even add to them with more time and experience and investment.
 |
| Like so many in our church, this is what our testimonies are founded on. More little experiences than we can count, all lifting together to do the impossible. |
