Before I Lose My Nerve

Today it was worthwhile to go to church.  So often it feels harmful to my already delicate feelings.  So often I sit in silence hating the words that come out of people's mouths.  Today was different.  I mean, Sacrament and Sunday School were the same.  But Relief Society... that's always where it gets me.

Today we talked about baptism.  At one point the teacher mentioned that we don't baptize kids under the age of 8 because we view them as innocent of sin.  There are some religions that don't believe this, and if you have a miscarriage or a still birth before a Christening has taken place then your baby is lost.  Just... gone.  She mentioned that when she was married all of one month she found out she was pregnant.  It turned out to be twins.  When she was 16 weeks pregnant her water broke.  Her husband was out of town.  She gave birth alone in her apartment.

She said that she was angry with God for a long time.  How could He let this happen?  How could he leave her alone to give birth to two dead babies?  She was mad for two or three years.  She now has a young child who often tells her she's mad at her and doesn't like her that day.  The teacher said that she often responds with, "that's okay."  It's okay because her daughter doesn't understand what's going on.  Her daughter is allowed to be upset with her for that time.  And then she said that God had allowed her to be angry at Him for the time after she lost her twins, just as she often allows her daughter time.

So often I think of myself as an adult.  But there are so many times that I act like a child.  I act like a child when I'm angry at God for whatever is happening in my life.  I was angry with Him about Kate Kelly.  I was angry with Him for letting me feel like I had no value as a woman in His church.  I've been angry with Him for so many little things.  I am a child.  And today helped me to realize that it's okay.  God forgives me for not understanding something and for being upset with Him.  It literally felt like I had a burdened lifted off of me that I didn't even realize I had.  A burden of feeling guilty for my anger.