Last summer I couldn’t help feeling a little introspective. I had to stop and ask myself if what I think I believe and what I habitually practice is what I really believe. I think it’s worthwhile when another perspective comes up on any issue—political, ethical, religious, as a parent, student, spouse—to at least consider it. I think it’s natural to check in every now and then and reaffirm what we think, to reconcile where we are. Last fall I listened to many wise words of counsel that felt personal and validating, “Life can be like hikers ascending a steep and arduous trail. It is a natural and normal thing to occasionally pause on the path to catch our breath, to recalculate our bearings, and to reconsider our pace. Not everyone needs to pause on the path, but there is nothing wrong with doing so when your circumstances require. In fact, it can be a positive thing for those who take full advantage of the opportunity to refresh themselves with the living water of the gospel of Christ. Sometimes we can learn, study, and know, and sometimes we have to believe, trust, and hope” (Elder Ballard).
And so as I took some time to ascertain where I stood, I peeled back the layers of what I’d always believed and asked myself about the basics. Is there a God? Is he real or just an idea, tangible or just a spirit? What about the Bible? Are the stories just fantastical legends? Did Christ really heal people, did waters part, did a bush burn without being consumed, were prophets real, did the flood really happen, did Christ really die on the cross and then come back to walk and teach in the flesh? Was he even who he said he was? Or was he simply an impressionable teacher? Could he have been a prophet? Was he just a good man who lived in ancient history? Or was he truly the Son of God? Was he, could he be, everything he said he was? I’ve been mulling all of it over the past year, wondering if I’d been mislead my entire life.
Over the months, I’ve continued to read (how else would I find out if I didn’t go to the source I was hoping to get confirmation about?). And pray. Coming to a conclusion about God was the easy part, and so praying still felt natural. “As soon as we learn the true relationship in which we stand toward God (namely, God is our Father, we are his children), then at once prayer becomes natural and instinctive on our part (Matt 7:7-11).”
I couldn’t and can’t deny that he’s real. Any time I wonder (which happens more than you’d think—it’s all so much for my finite mind to wrap itself around), I just think about trees and flowers and our bodies and animals; I immediately feel confirmation that organelles didn’t just create themselves, that our myriad cells didn’t just figure out their specific jobs on their own, that plants don’t just make themselves food, that these are all God’s creations. Nature is my proof that God is real. And so I knew he’d be my ally as I figured out what I thought about all the rest.
I think it’s important that we continue practicing what we hope is true as we seek confirmation. We don’t quit exercising because we don’t see muscle definition after a couple work outs. We don’t quit eating healthy because we don’t lose weight after two weeks. We don’t give up on our kids or our spouses because we don’t see immediate changes in behavior. We don’t quit praying just because we have questions. And why would I ask or turn to humans when I’ve got God to help me with my concerns? I wish I could trust people more; but at this point in my life, I’d rather just ask him. And so I’ve stuck by him, close, trying to live so I could feel his spirit teach and remind me of what was true.
Over the past year he’s become even more real, more personal, more of a confidant than ever before. I know he’s concerned about me personally. I know he loves me intensely and that he wants me to be happy.
Right along with that knowledge is the affirmation that his Son is just as real. I know he came to earth to live among regular people in humble circumstances so we would have to lean on our faith to accept him. It would’ve been easy to believe he was a god if he had come from the sky in a beam of light dressed in royal robes. But God knew this was the better way. And so yes, it makes us question if he was just a legendary Jewish man about whom fables and myths have been passed through generations, a good man, a convincing man, but a mere mortal. But I can without any hesitation tell you he is real. He lived among everyday people, yet he was and is absolutely without question the Savior of the world.
I know Heavenly Father and his Son are separate, united as one in purpose. That they have real bodies like ours. That they work together as a godhead, with the third member being the Holy Ghost, a personage of spirit that can reside with us, that can testify and warn and comfort us.
With that foundation, all the rest quickly fell into place. That sounds like quite a leap. And yet it’s not really at all. Because I know that God is real, because Christ is who he claimed to be, and because I have felt the spirit confirm that, I can move forward easily. I know that they love me, that God didn’t just put us here to flounder, to figure it all out for ourselves. He’s an orderly and loving God and has given us guidelines, families, and tools to help us be happy. As any experienced parent knows, we give our children rules to protect themselves and to help them live successfully and joyfully, the same motives God has by giving us commandments. Bedtimes, healthy snacks, sunscreen. Our kids balk and think they know better. We’re not so different. And yet I know he’s just trying to help. Even as he lets us choose.
I’m like you. I’ve still got questions. I don’t know how any intelligent, thinking person doesn’t. I write them in the back of my journals. And I let them sit. And then I continue with what I know. I pray. I read his words. I try to live so that his spirit can guide me. I have faith in Christ and in his atonement. I ask that he can help me overcome my weaknesses, my failings, my sadnesses. I try to think of them often throughout my day. I ask if there’s a better way to handle situations. I keep going along, trusting them. And I keep this sentiment in mind, “We should not assume … that just because something is unexplainable by us it is unexplainable” (Elder Maxwell).
I guess I just assume people are fallible. That history is messy. That records are incomplete. That we don’t know the whole story. But I also assume that there are answers. Reasons that maybe only God knows about. That people can still be instruments in God’s hands regardless of their humanness. That there are explanations. That there are a lot of things I simply don’t understand—about our country’s history for instance, about the decisions leaders have made, about policies that don’t make sense. There’s so much about life we can question, so many ways people can let us down, so many ways for us to become bitter and disenchanted. Our political scene is just one example. And yet, I feel peace when I think about our inspired beginnings as a country. Regardless of the imperfections of our founding fathers, in spite of all the ugliness and mistakes of so many of our leaders through the years, I believe we are a blessed nation, I believe it is founded on true and Godly principles. And I hold on to that tenet in my religious beliefs as well.
What’s interesting is that the more I choose to ask God about the things I’m not sure about, the closer I feel to him. The more I try to live like and think of our Savior, the more accessible he is to me. The more I ask for the spirit to guide me, to help me think of who to serve and how to help my family, the more I feel inspired. I love the admonition to trust God. I love the idea of testing him. “If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself” (John 7:17).
If I want to know about someone, it seems better to go directly to that person. I don’t like to ask other people who may have a skewed perspective, who may be missing some information, who may misrepresent that person or who may want to mislead me. That’s how I feel about God. I can’t think of anyone better to talk to about what’s real and what’s right. There’s enough insidiousness out there. I want the truth. And I trust no one more than God. I appreciate his approachability, the ease with which we can communicate with and petition him. I love the admonition, “If any of ye lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him” (James 1:5). He tells us so many times, in so many ways, to ask, seek and knock. He will never force himself on us, and he will never, ever give up on us or leave us alone.
Next to walking in nature, the quickest and most sure way I’m reminded that God is real, is by asking him as I pray, “Are you real? And do you love me?” I suggest anyone who’s not sure, who wants to know, who wants to remember, who wants the truth, to try it. And pay attention to what you feel.
So while there’s still so much I don’t know, there’s a lot I do know. A scripture I’ve relied on for years and years, one of my favorites as I wrestle with so many things I don’t understand, calms me and reminds me I can still feel immense peace even without all the answers, “Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God?” (D&C 6:23) For me, this is enough, the overwhelming peace I feel when I think of Heavenly Father and Christ. I can’t deny the countless witnesses I’ve had in my lifetime that affirm their reality and love for me. That understanding overshadows all my other questions that I don’t have answers for at the moment. Over the years, I’ve filled in some of the blanks in the backs of my journal. Some questions are still without solid answers. But I know that just because there are still empty spaces between God’s understanding and mine doesn’t mean I can’t continue believing in him and in his Son and in his perfect plan. And that the answers will come. I know they will.
