What I'm working for

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Let us then labor for an inward stillness,

An inward stillness and an inward healing,

That perfect silence where lips and heart 

Are still, and we no longer entertain

Our own imperfect thought and vain opinions,

But God alone speaks in us, and we wait

In singleness of heart, that we may know 

His will, and in the silence of our spirits,

We may do his will and do that only!

I'm thankful for God's help in my labor to be still today. I'm still squirming a bit, but at least I'm no longer chasing my own tail.

What I know

There is so much I do not know. I've become more aware of and comfortable with the fact that every moment that exists beyond the present is a mystery to me. I don't know what will happen. I don't know what choices other people will make. I don't know what conditions will be thrust upon me. But based on what I have experienced, there are some things I know. I say I know them because I have had experiences with them that transcend what I comprehend to be the capacity of mortal experience. And because making choices consistent with this knowledge brings increasing peace and goodness in my life.

I know that at many times in my life God has protected me from the emotional consequences of negative events. Most recently, for the first two weeks after D-day, I was in an almost constant state of calm. Despite the devastating news I had received about the state of my marriage, I was able to engage almost continuously on a rational level and focus on making decisions about how to proceed, rather than get lost in processing emotion.

I know that at many times in my life God has allowed me to feel quite deeply the natural emotional consequences of negative events. I can see at least two purposes for God allowing this. 

1) I have learned important things from my emotions. Feeling hurt emotionally by something someone says or does can help me pay attention to the quality of the relationships I am in and think critically about how safe they are and if (or to what extent) I should trust someone. Recurring feelings of hurt can remind me to continue to enforce boundaries I have set for my protection when it may be tempting to remove them (perhaps prematurely). I have decided that rather than be a victim of my emotions, I want to be a student of them. If I'm going to feel pain, I don't want it to be in vain.

2) Feeling emotional pain gives me experience that helps me be more sensitive and compassionate and learn how to better serve others. I still have a long way to go in learning how to succor others in the best way possible, but I have learned some powerful lessons from going through my own pain---particularly regarding some beautiful experiences I  have had in receiving comfort and support from others when I have suffered. Something I love about the word compassion is that its roots mean "suffer with." Because of what I have suffered, I am capable of more effectively suffering with others (in a way that can relieve their suffering).

I know that I "see through a glass darkly" (1 Cor 13:12). I also recently learned that the word "glass" in this scripture is better read as "mirror." And I recently have made the connection that this scripture occurs in a chapter focused entirely on charity. And I remember the words: "The strongest among us are those with the cleanest mirrors," and "You don't have to be strong to have a clean mirror; it is the act of cleaning your mirror that will make you strong." (See this post for sources/explanations.)  

I know that a natural consequence of becoming closer to the Lord and being blessed by and with his love gives me a cleaner mirror to look in. To me, having a cleaner mirror means seeing simultaneously both my divine nature and potential and my weaknesses and flaws (a la Ether 12: 27). In this context, I have been pondering these verses (Alma 38: 13-14): "Do not pray as the Zoramites do, for ye have seen that they pray to be heard of men, and to be praised for their wisdom. Do not say: O God, I thank thee that we are better than our brethren; but rather say: O Lord, forgive my unworthiness, and remember my brethren in mercy---yea, acknowledge your unworthiness before God at all times." I know I need to repent. Most of my anger and actions toward my husband is justified---which I explain with the paradoxical statement that I feel that God is actually showing mercy by allowing me to feel enough anger to take needed action to ensure the safety of me and my children. But there are times my anger crosses that line, and I become prideful. I know that I deserve a spouse who reciprocates the love and commitment I show to him---and this knowledge must be used to inform the decisions I make about my relationship with him. But when my anger makes me want to shame, hurt, punish, or blame my husband, I have crossed a line. When my anger toward my husband makes me feel that I am worth more or better than my husband, I have crossed a line. I know that when it comes to my relationship with God and my understanding of myself, the choices of my husband are irrelevant. When God considers me, his feelings are not based on a comparison of me and my husband. God's feelings of love toward me are based on my inherent worth and His acceptance of me depends only on my commitment to living the covenants I have made with him. God does not love me more or less because of what my husband or anyone else may do to me. God's feelings toward me are in no way affected by the conditions I find myself in: "For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8: 38-39)

I know that God's love and word (the scriptures) bring peace and light and comfort into my life. I started writing this post because I felt deeply lonely and empty. I had checked Facebook and the forum and blogs for the umpteenth time, finding nothing new or novel enough to engage me. I knew there were friends I could email or call, but didn't feel up to reaching out. I wanted someone to reach out and in to me and find that place in my chest where my heart is trying to back slowly and unobtrusively out of the scene but keeps pounding slowly but surely against the reality that there are lungs and muscles and veins and ribs and spine and skin trapping it in my body and the circumstances surrounding my body which somehow constitute my life. I needed a safe place to say this. To say the words, "I am lonely. Is anyone there? Right now?" So I started a new post. And I looked at my notes from Attached, and remembered that my great capacity for intimacy, which I consider to be the greatest gift I have to offer myself and others, is also the source of the frequent and deep loneliness. This loneliness is compounded by being in a marriage where my emotional needs are not met, but feeling lonely will continue to be an issue even if the quality of my marriage changes. I have worked hard to create a network of friends that is both broad and deep in order to fend off this loneliness, but even that is not enough. I need more. I need God and the infinite love he offers---love that transcends time and space. And writing this post helped me remember his love and access it and feel some relief.

Some relief. For a few moments, it felt complete. Now, as I finish writing, I realize that my loneliness is not completely gone, although it is assuaged. And I know why. I know why God will, in his loving kindness, continue to let me feel lonely at times---perhaps much of the time. And if I forget, I can always just read this post again.

What I have learned

Another post answering some questions I was asked in response to my Saturday Night post. 

Looking back what have you learned most about the Holy Ghost and/or gut spiritual instincts?

Two things. First, it is significant to me that for about 85% of my marriage I felt unsettled about various issues in our relationship such as the amount of time we spent together (not much), how frequently we had sex (not often), and our emotional connection/his ability to support me emotionally (limited in scope/extent) and this  "just so happens" to be the same duration of my marriage tainted by H's pornography addiction. I realize now that I have been fighting for my marriage FOR my whole marriage. And the reason I was fighting for it is because he was, of his own admission, directly and indirectly, fighting against it as he engaged in his addiction. And I was fighting for our marriage because I am someone who values relationships above all, and I truly loved my husband and wanted more of him than he was sharing with me. At this point in my life, I am at peace with this tendency in myself because I'm learning how to keep the behaviors that stem from it healthy (mostly by discerning who I can trust, to what extent, and in what ways), and I take pride in the fact that I value relationships. Historically, my husband has not, and it has made his life sad and twisted.

Second, two and a half years ago when I initially realized porn was an issue (shortly after my husband left the church) of course I had so many questions about everything. And I took those questions to God pretty constantly. Looking back, I can see that I was guided in so many ways, which included receiving quite a bit of revelation in the way of promptings. But it didn't feel like much given how many questions I had, which was hard to not feel disatisfied with. Another issue was that the revelation I received didn't seem to match the questions I asked. I asked many very specific questions. The direct promptings I received were few, general, and usually repeated. For instance, the most consistent specific revelation I received was to take care of myself. Literally. The specific phrase and the essense of the phrase "Take care of yourself" was what I heard/felt in response to questions about how to proceed in my daily life and in my marriage. Looking back on the past 2.5 years and knowing what I know about myself now that I didn't know then, I am so grateful to God for this revelation. Taking care of myself is the best advice I could have been given and this counsel is still extremely applicable and helpful to me now. (Here's a post I wrote about self-care earlier in the year.)

If you could do one thing differently over the course of the past couple years what would that be?

It is really tempting to look back and wonder how things would have worked out if I had known sooner what I know now that gave me the strength to do what I did that led to the disclosure I just experienced. But I really don't think it's helpful for me to think about the past in that way. I'm not saying I did everything right or that I couldn't have done certain things better, but I do know the intent of my heart and the constraints I was under in the past, and overall, I know I was doing my best. So in order to avoid unhelpful feelings of regret/guilt (I experience more than enough of that without inflicting it on myself) I think it's more helpful to answer the question:

 What have you learned over the course of the past couple years that will change how you make decisions and what actual choices you make in the future?

1) Keep taking care of myself. Taking care of myself used to be more important than I thought it was, and I wasn't always sure it was possible or worth the effort. Now I know that my well-being is my most valuable (and vulnerable) asset to myself and my children and that I am worth whatever effort it takes to keep myself well.

2) Trust God. He really is looking out for my best interests, and He knows much more about what is best for me than I do.

3) Trust not in the arm of flesh. I can not currently trust my husband at all, and I should never again completely trust him. I should also not trust myself. Yes, overall I'm a good person trying to do what is right. But I have plenty of my own weaknesses that get in the way of me living quite as a I should. I need to remember (sorry, I don't have a source for this quote): "If you think you've got it all together, you're doing it wrong." I need to stay humble and rely on the Lord and learn from others.

Given the title of this post, I'd like to share that I also just learned that H found this blog (after seeing it on my computer), realized it was mine, and read all of the posts. I guess he was banking on the "asking forgiveness is easier than asking permission" thing. Um, I don't think that adage applies to sex addicts . . .