I had my mother on the phone yesterday as everyday. I don’t mind talking to my family everyday. My issue is my mother’s mental issue. It makes it very hard sometimes to handle a conversation. What am I talking about? Do we really have conversation? No, she talks and pour out her mental disease and I try not to get to touched by it which ends most of the time in me being absolutely exhausted from listening to her.
Anyway, she was yesterday as usually in her paranoïd world but their was no hatred so it made things a lot easier.
Looking back I realize that as we say I come a long way. I realize that some people must believe me lost and I don’t feel like telling them that I am fine and that I am back. I realize that they probably tried to be real friends but they were either not being honest with themself or just ignorant of what a friend should be.
I have had a friend for almot 9 years now. Actually we met shortly after I came back from my mission. We’ve had ups and downs but she is still here as I am for her. She is absolutely against any religion, she does not believe in God and makes fun of any church most of the time. She drinks whenever she gets a chance, she does not want chidren because they will break her toys. She alwyas gets the latest toy which, by the way, makes going to her place like going to my private amusement park. I know reading to me you must think that she is not someone “very interesting” and you are wrong.
She is faithfull, she is smart (she’s got a master degree), she worked her way in a field her family was strongly against and you need to know that she comes from the upper class which means strict obedience to social rules. She is sensitive, she works hard, she cares for the ones she loves.
I believe she has been a much better friend than some people who pretended to care for me. I think they really thought they did. They just don’t know what it means to care for someone. Oh, oh…I forgot to mention that “they” refered to good standard mormons of course.
Do you want to know something else that is funny? There has been a time when I really questioned my faith and all that I had been raised in. I questionned hard whether what I felt was really me wanting to come back to the church or if it was a matter of how I had been raised. Was I affraid to find out I had no faith in what I had been taught? Why was I questionning it if it were not an evidence that it was not true? Did I really have faith? And first what was faith?
In France we have good religious shows on sunday morning. Nothing like the crap that exists in the US. It is really something you can turn to for an uplifting thought.
There was this muslim part of the sunday religious show (yes…on sunday) and I heard this sentance that was just the light I had been longing for “a faith that does not doubt is a dead faith“.
So not only doubting is fine but it could actually be healthy?
I understand now how from doubts my faith can grow stronger. Not only am I not disturbed or affraid of my doubts anymore but I also love them. Because they are tools in shaping my sould to make it what God wants it to be.
Actually, doubting is already faith.