I joined the LDS Church as a teenager and was utterly jubilant to find a church home that deepened my Christian faith walk in ways I’d only longed for till then. I come from a long line of deeply religious Southern folk; I was born with Jesus in my blood. But as I grew and tried to make sense of Protestant doctrine, I just couldn’t reconcile the Bigness of God I felt inside me with my (admittedly juvenile) perception of the weak, nonsensical faith structure of my pewmates. So when I encountered the rich depths of Mormon doctrine, it was welcome nourishment to my starving soul. As an instinctive truth-seeker, I felt I had found that pearl of great price I sought. That was decades ago, and I have never had cause to regret my choice, even when the quirks and mistakes of my chosen church upset me. I still experience the doctrines of the Restoration with gut-confirming surety. And the further along the path I get, the richer and wider the vista, the more real and clear the promises.
I have always been grateful that I joined the Church early enough in life to allow me to go to BYU, marry in the temple and raise my children in the Church. I cannot tell you how deeply pleased I was to be able to teach my children not only to look to Jesus (many do that) but to be able to give them many more pieces of the Divine Puzzle, to explain the Plan in much richer detail and confidence. It never once occurred to me that they might not recognize the gospel and the Church (which I always understood as separate things, both “true”) as a pearl worth giving all you had to obtain. I never imagined that someone might not want it. My innate desire for truth, my love for Jesus and my gratitude for the Church were not hard-won; they were so obvious to me that I could not imagine a different perspective.
Well, guess what? It is not obvious nor innate for everyone. Not even your own children. It was obvious to them (to everyone) that my desire for truth and my love for Jesus were absolutely real . . . for me. My gratitude for the Church was obvious, too, as we celebrated my “second birthday” on every baptism anniversary and attended Church every week, at my insistence. I was never a hardliner, never big on the cultural rules, and vocal about my dismay at certain Church actions or puzzlement/anger at issues like gender inequality in the Church. I thought I was modeling how to be a faithful, questioning Latter-Day Saint.
I have six children, most of them grown and gone. So my perspective has inevitably altered and it hasn’t been an easy or happy transition. I’m still wandering in the fog about the whole issue of children who “stray”. I’m not even sure what that means. Stray from what? The Church? God? The family? The path? Whose path? Each of my children has explored the gospel with widely varying degrees of interest and aptitude. Some are simply more spiritual by nature than others. The more intellectually gifted ones seemed to have the most trouble, especially as they encountered troubling historical facts or hard doctrines. Some things about Church culture were ever annoying, and some attitudes of some saints actually did significant damage to some of my children. But even the one who was loved through a particularly rocky adolescence by a particularly fabulous ward family has now walked away.
Three of my children went on full-term missions. Two of the three married ones married in the temple. Four of them went to BYU. So they did try. They wanted to believe. Some still do. But two of those returned missionaries/BYU graduates/sons are completely unchurched. Their hearts are hard toward the Church. They will not allow their children to go to church. The married daughter and mother of three, who is a star member of her ward, told me at the family reunion last year that she is done with the Church, “culturally and doctrinally”. She still participates for her family’s sake. But she’s lost the light of testimony. One single adult returned missionary/daughter is an active saint and seems happy about it. Another single adult daughter, after stomping out of the house and the church at 18, has recently found that God isn’t so bad after all. She attends a non-denominational Christian church and appears to be finding a comfortable spiritual path. The last daughter is still a teenager, with both a heart for God and for trouble, so we’ll see how that turns out.
That’s a funny phrase — turns out. Like our kids are tortillas or omelets that we hope “turn out” all right. But what does that mean? What does that look like? Active participation in the LDS Church? Temple marriage? Staying married? Staying out of prison? Making lots of money? Making lots of grandkids?
I have ten grandchildren and every one of them has a set of good parents, for which I am daily grateful. My grown kids all support themselves and their families, take care of their obligations and each other, and have kind hearts. Some go to church – LDS or otherwise – and some don’t. The cousins are growing up together, in happy homes and prosperous circumstances. I am glad and grateful for all of this. But . . .
Do I even deserve a but? That is the question. I am a staunch proponent of personal agency; the whole multiverse is built on this principle. But . . . I believe Deepak Chopra when he says, “Every spiritual path is the right path.” But . . . My children are all strong, contributing, good people. But . . .
But it breaks my heart when I can’t talk to my son about deep gospel topics, like we used to do. My heart shatters when his kids tell me they don’t believe in God. My heart falls when I realize my granddaughters don’t know who Jesus is. My heart is grieved when only one of my grown children can come to the temple with me, especially as I remember that holy night when I stood at the temple veil, my son on my right side, my daughter on my left and we all entered His presence together. My heart hurts when that same daughter now forbids me to ask about her faith. Mostly, my heart is completely crushed to see some of my children reject the God I love with all my heart, the God I give my life to, the God I introduced them to with such hope and faith. I feel like I have failed God.
I know I’m not alone in this parental grief. I know my feelings of failure are not even relevant and cannot be indulged. I know I did my best. I know my children’s choices are theirs, not mine, to answer for. I know their goodness. I know the journey’s not over and that God is not done with them (or me) yet. I know they are loved by their Heavenly Parents beyond measure, beyond my parental love for them, beyond anything that appears to be in the way. I know Love always wins.
But . . .
How do you deal with kids who “stray”?
How do I deal with my children who have given up on the church. I clutch my heart and feel pained. The story of my family is very similar. Above all, I tell myself, I will love them. Some of my grandchildren are floundering but they are loved by their parents. I just remember how much I needed my relationship to God and my friendships at church. I pray for them. I pray for myself to be vigilant.
I don't have an answer for you, but I want to witness to your struggle in parenting adult children who create lives for themselves that differ from the values and behaviors that you offered them out of love and from the truth that you have gained from your life experience, your own faith journey. I'm happy to read that you still have a line of communication with them. I'm 55, so I've watched several of my friends "make it up" as they go along as they parent their now-adult children who shift into a different life framework. Through trial and error, they work to find common ground and to find mutually enjoyable activities. It's painful and chaotic for them, but they keep forging ahead and find moments of joy, sometimes very small and quiet moments. If you are talking and spending time together, that is wonderful. All my best to each member of your extended family. Hugs and hugs.
"But…" Yes! That one word describes this dynamic so well. Thank you for this honest and relevant post, Lisa.
I am a convert also, baptized 4 days after my 18th birthday, & told to leave my father's house that night. I have deep concerns about the granddaughter who was born on the covenant, but whose parents have now "walked back" from the Church. There are 2 things that give me great comfort.
The first is the knowledge that we are all children of our Heavenly Father, & that he knows us & loves, & sent his Son to be our
Savior. If Christ could find me, a little Protestant girl in Ohio, & lead me to the truth, then I must exercise faith that He will do the same for my children & grandchildren. That is His role; He is the Savior. My job is to be the mother & the grandmother, to love them, & I can do that.
The second is the knowledge that we are sealed as a family. In my patriarchal blessing, I am told to marry in the temple, that the children I would bear would be born in the covenant. For years I only was the "bear" in that sentence, due to multiple miscarriages. I had more miscarriages than have children. I was not born in the covenant, but have since been sealed to my deceased parents. I have come to understand that while we are in mortality, we cannot fully understand the power of the sealing ordinances, but that it is far greater than we have any idea. That gives me hope, and peace.
I love them!
I am not yet at the point you are, but the terror nibbles at me prematurely as my kids enter adolescence, as both my parents and my siblings have left the church (as have 2/3 of my husband's siblings). Regardless of my 100% pioneer ancestry, I have no frame of reference as to what it would look like to have my children or immediate family remain true to the faith and if I give it half a second, it completely freaks me out. I pray, love, and try not to think about it. This was a good piece–thank you for sharing your feelings and experiences.
This is a thoughtful, articulate piece on a topic that effects many of us. It struck such a cord that I thought you might be me for a minute there – until the 6 kids part. I have been given little grace notes from God that, in the words of Julian of Norwich, I now trust that "All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well." What do we have control over? Not their lives or thoughts or decisions, but our own ability to love them and to trust that God's will may be done (without scripting what that looks like). Thanks so much for sharing this.
I am one who has left, and so I am not sure how my answering the question will sit with people.
So, I can't be 100% positive that the church is not what it claims. So, let's play what if. What if I am wrong and the church really is what y'all think it is. So, when I get face to face with Christ and he asks me why I left the church, I can tell him. It wasn't because I was lazy or wanted to sin. The easiest path when you are the descendant of pioneers on all genealogy lines, is to stay active, and I honestly had no problem with the commandments. It wasn't that I was offended over little stuff. Yeah, sure, I was offended because when I was growing up, the boys got to go to camp several times a year and the church paid for it. But my family was poor, so when it came time for me to go to 1 girls camp a year, and the church was not paying, I couldn't go because my family could not afford it. And, sure, I found the temple terribly offensive to a God who knows us each as his children and as individuals, but still needs secret passwords given in the temple in order to recognize us. And sure I found the temple terribly sexist and offensive to women. And sure when I asked my honest questions to a temple president, he told me that asking such question was a bad attitude and that my bad attitude was taking me straight to hell. And plpolygamy is pretty offensive to women, and Joseph marrying 14 year olds is pretty offensive, and Joseph sending men off on missions and then "marrying" their wife while they were gone, and that is pretty offensive. But, hey, none of that was so offensive that I left the church over it.
Anyway, so that is how my conversation with God is going to go, and if this church is "true" and led by God, then God has got a lot of explaining to do, and a whole bunch of people are going to have to explain why they did what they did, and give a sincere apology to me. Because my reasons for leaving are REAL.
Think about that one. My reasons for leaving are just as valid as your reasons for believing, and I can face God with a clear conscience and explain my choices.
Anna, thank you for sharing. Believe me, I totally hear you. And I am not judging anyone who opts out of church activity. I stay because this is where God specifically told me to be, but I completely understand why another would make a different choice. Even my own children. It's not that I don't understand the struggle; I do. And I respect their choice. But what seems to have happened in the case of at least 3 of my children is that they have conflated the gospel and the church, such that if one were "untrue" the other would necessarily be also. That is, when they have trouble believing in the church, they automatically have trouble believing in God, or trusting that Jesus is their personal Savior, Because my commitment to Jesus predates and has always been separate from my choice to be a Mormon, I have not had this problem. That is why, I think, my son's choice to leave breaks my heart, while I am actually glad that my daughter who has chosen another church has found a way to connect with God that may suit her better. I didn't tell you the whole story about my son, about his journey into hell and how I followed him in to bring him back out, and how he "found" Jesus in a very deep and real way. Frankly, there are not a lot of Mormons who really have a relationship with Christ that I would call intimate. I know that's unfair and judgmental, but I also know Christ, and when my son came to know Him in a way that dramatically changed his life, I thought he was "solid". It's his rejection of Jesus that breaks my heart, not just his leaving church. I've told him numerous times, "If I saw you walking off into the sunset with Jesus, even outside of the Church, I wouldn't be feeling this tremendous heartbreak." So my feelings about my children leaving the church vary, depending on how much I perceive they actually understood the gospel. The one who really "got it" — and then left both Church and God — it's like watching someone spit in my Savior's face and that hurts more than anything. I love my son fiercely and he knows it; our relationship is good. But it's limited now, in terms of what we can talk about, or do (no more temple trips together, e.g.) by his choices. He described his choice as "shattering". It's not easy for anyone, on any "side". And nobody is "finished" yet.
The other part that makes it hard for me as a parent, or even just a Mormon Christian further along the path, is that you can't get to the juicy mysteries of godliness without passing through much of what feels like a crucible. It involves risk after risk after risk, all based on faith in Christ and love for God. Not many Mormons are willing to take such risks, but those that do receive gifts that cannot even be talked about. I modeled spiritual risk-taking for my children and I know they are capable and psychologically primed for such a spiritual life. So it hurts to see them (or anyone) quit before the really good stuff can even happen.
Yes, Linda, that is one of my favorite mantras: "All shall be well . . " And I believe it. I have to. God's love is too big, for each of us, not to.
It's hard to go from the "they are young, how will they know unless we teach them, show them, share with them, love them, encourage them, help them find the way, walk through hell and back" mode that we have invested so very much time and effort and prayer and concern and work in, to the "love them and appreciate them just as they are" mode that adult children desperately need from their parents even though they may never consciously understand that..
From personal experience in my own family the latter mode is essential, completely devoid of mourning. Even when we do not talk of the "but" with them or about them, they feel it and the sadness that we feel about that. It becomes the elephant in the room that prevents us from seeing each other clearly or trusting each other.
The parent in my family who was able to do that change has done more good and created more good bonds of love and appreciation that reflect eternal strength than anyone else. It is amazingly good and light-filled.
It takes a huge leap of faith that there is only one Savior, it isn't us, and to hand the concern to Him, trusting that his grace is sufficient, his mercy unending, his justice all wise and helpful, and his powerful love unending and healing, letting go of our previous role that we embraced when they were young and our fear of what might happen in the future or what we see unfolding now. .
You are at an advantage here. You know the Savior. You know the power of his atonement to make whole every difficult effect of our choices. You know that there is a balm in Gilead that can make you more whole. You can ask for it, receive it and make the transition to one of unrestrained pleasure in all that is good in your children, and hope in Him and knowledge of who He is, rather than anxious concern about what they are choosing now, what they have turned from, and the ramifications in the future.
In my family I have seen one parent do that. It hasn't made the children change their paths, or their vision of truth, but their hearts are knit together in deep love and in confidence in the wholeness and unconditional nature of that love and deep value of each other. . And there is trust and peace. where there was previously anxiousness and concern on the part of a parent, and longing for validation and being valued just as they are on the part of the children.
It is amazing and good and powerful and I am forever grateful. I think you will get there. I think you know who to turn to find out how. I know it is possible.
Lisa, I have been thinking about what you said about your son coming close to Jesus and then rejecting him. I am like you in that I do believe in the Savior, and so, likewise it upset me when my one daughter not only rejected Jesus, but became a pagan priestess.
But, I trust Christ's love for each of us, that, hey, if I am wrong about Mormonism, but I have my reasons, and Christ is going to understand why Mormonism didn't work for me and judge me fairly. Not judge me against someone that fit into Mormonism and never saw the sexism and never saw the flaws in doctrine or the horrible way that some people implement the doctrine.
In exactly the same way, I have to trust Christ (or whatever God there is) to love my daughter enough to understand and accept her reasons for not "getting" Christianity. She has rejected Christ, but she has her reasons, and they are honest and valid reasons. And God will be fair to her. God will judge her the same way he did Peter, who thrice denied Christ. Yeah, Jesus got angry and cast him into outer darkness. No, Jesus understood Peter's reasons and although Peter made a mistake, it was forgiven becaus Jesus understood why.
Christ has total understanding of why we do things, and an honest mistake is forgiven.
So, your son is still a good man, honest, kind, loving, Right? So, rather than assuming that he knew Jesus, and then with no good reason rejected him, assume that your son is still the honest guy you know he is and he must have a valid reason. Maybe you don't understand his reason, but Jesus does. You might have a hard time understanding the unconditional love that Christ has, and you might have a hard time understanding your son's reason for not believing, but trust your son that he is still honest and good, therefore his reason for rejecting the whole "Jesus thing" is a valid reason.
You trust my reason for rejecting Mormonism, and I am just a name on the Internet. So trust your son's reason for rejecting Christ.
I know some atheists and have talked with them about why they stopped believing in any form of God. Their reasons are valid and honest and based in their experience. I believe God understands their reasons even better than I do. He will not hold them accountable for believing what they cannot believe. But he is going to judge them on how they treat their fellow man, not on what they think about the Big Bang and evolution, or what they think about God on an intellectual basis. But he will judge them on how they treat others.
See, that is one of my problems with Mormonism. Their version of God will judge us on whether or not we know secret passwords more than he is going to judge us on how we treat others. The Catholic God is equally shallow and will judge people according to if they were sprinkled with water and had certain words said over them. Mormons are judged worthy or unworthy according to what we think about Joseph Smith and Tom Monsen. Nowhere in the temple recommend questions is there anything about feeding the hungry or visiting the sick. It is all superficial, how we think, if we obey certain rules. But Christ is going to judge us on our ability to love. Your son is still a good, honest, kind, loving guy right? So, he will be judged by that, not his understanding of religious theology.
So, draw a separation between believing the gospel, and living how Jesus wants us to live. Just like you drew a line between Mormonism, and the gospel. The real gospel is less what we think and more how we act.
How do we feel about the Catholic mother's kids who leave Catholicism and join Mormonism? Do our hearts break for them? What about the FLDS mothers kids who leave Fundamentalist sects of Mormonism and break away into disbelief? Do we mourn for their mothers?
Sometimes we are so stuck in only seeing things from our perspective that we lose sight of the big picture which is that there are a million faiths and people faith journeys are fluid and people who leave Mormonism have their valid reasons. Can we honor their journey, their reasons, and their story?
do we really want to know their reasons? their story?
Thank you for sharing this experience in a thoughtful manner.
Your children did exactly what you did–left the religious tradition they were raised in. I don't see what the problem is. Maybe the problem is their mother's attitude about it. How did your parents react to your joining Mormonism? Were they fine with it? Did they weep, wail and gnash teeth over it? How they SHOULD they have been ? How they SHOULD have been is how you should be.
For my wife and I the answer is relatively simple. We respond with Love. We keep the door open and our arms open wide. We don't try to force them. We let them choose their own way. We know they were Gods children long before they were ours. So we let God guide them as he will. But no matter what choices they make they know that mom and dad will always love them and our door is always open. I believe that's what God does with each of us and has asked us to do the same.
Since our first child was born our goal and motto was to "work our way out of our job". We wanted to teach our kids how to be adults. Now we interact with them as adults rather than as children. We taught them to make adult choices and to accept the responsibility for those choices. Those choices may be different than those we would make but that's what agency is about. Regardless of the choices they make we can still love them and, most importantly, we let them know they are loved.
There is no easy answer. But several posters have given the correct response, in my opinion, and that is to love them, no matter what. I have children who have strayed from the gospel. SOme of them have come back. Some have not. All of their reasons are different.
But I try to love them without judging them. I have good relations with all of them and my only source of influence towards the gospel is my prayers. As long as there is breath, there is hope.
Some years ago I became acquainted with a senior sister missionary. She was the poster child for a grandmother with silver hair, twinkling eyes, and a love for her fellow man that I could feel. A year or so after she was released from her mission she sent mt wife and I a letter, a message of joy.
She had a son who went on a mission. The son went inactive immediately after returning from his mission. This sister never ceased praying for him and loving him, and putting his name in the prayer circle at every temple she could.. (He would not allow her to talk with him about the church either.) Twenty years after returning from the man walked back into the chapel and back into full activity.
This may not happen with every son or daughter that goes inactive. They each have their own agency, ability to choose.But the love and prayers are an example for us on how to deal with those we love who have walked away.
It is going to happen more and more because the ways of the world are departing more and more from the doctrines of salvation taught by the church and there are more that will choose to follow the ways of the world than not.
Glenn
That is the
One thing that people don't tend to acknowledge regarding the those that have "strayed" is that often we know what it's like to be on both sides of the equation. Many of us were once very committed, (what I call, Hinckley Mormons) all in-Mormons, none of this "nuance-nonsense"
I can clearly remember what it felt like to see a friend or neighbor leave the church and overall, the emotion I felt was that it just felt sad. I pitied them, and i judged them if I'm being honest. They no longer had access to what I did, the "fullness of the truth".
So, how did I go from that faithful person to who I am today? I simply learned much more than what was carefully portioned out for me under the church's correlation program. What I learned is that there is a wealth of information that was, yes findable, but until the Gospel Topics essays, not broached officially by the church.
That rabbit hole was fascinating but deep, it was both heart breaking and exhilarating. Once you fully go down it, you never emerge with the same testimony. For some like myself the cognitive dissonance was too great and the church became a net negative. Some seem to be happy to be "nuanced members" but the point is, at least we know which way the wind blows.
I don't know what you know about what's down that rabbit hole, I suspect you know it has something to do with polygamy or blacks in the priesthood, but until you put in the time to fully understanding what's all involved, I'd recommend setting aside your guilt. You may find it's an unnecessary burden.
Such a simple, obvious message, but exactly what I needed to read today! Thank you! It suddenly hit me square in the face that I have been trying to "save" my kids. I need to just focus on mothering them.
Thank you all for your wise words. I hear you, and I appreciate you taking time to share your thoughts and experiences.
I have young children, and I worry about their faith and the future. But I sometimes worry about myself more. From the outside, others may see that I attend meetings regularly, accept dreaded church assignments cheerfully, and try to “check the boxes” – but in my heart, I vacillate wildly between heartfelt belief and complete skepticism.
Perhaps that is why the story of Heber Grant resonates so much with me, “A few weeks before President Grant passed, [he] prayed, ‘O God, bless me that I shall not lose my testimony, and keep faithful to the end.’”
We recognize that faith is often stronger than we realize, but I fear that my faith is much more fragile than I can handle. In short – perhaps this vacillation is occurring in each of your children, more than you know. I think another poster said it best – love them! Christ is going to have to help us figure out the rest.