Living Authentically

My resolution this year is to be kind, to acknowledge my blessings (for they are many), and to give myself permission to live authentically.  For me, this means not pretending on certain matters.  Namely, religious matters.

This has been a very hard thing for me, as I wanted to believe that the church I go to is perfect, and that it was me, who is imperfect, that was causing such cognitive dissonance in my own life.

However, I have been very respectful and careful over the past several months- allowing myself to seek and find, to ponder and think, and then make my own informed decision.  All the while, praying that if I was wrong- or on the wrong path- I would be made aware of this.  Every day, every night, this is what I have done.

I have a sweet, kind, loving brother-in-law who has watched this, and become understandably concerned.  He told me his fear was that the Spirit would not be with me.  To be honest, that shocked and scared me.  I feel that the Spirit being with me is the best thing about me.  Losing that would be like losing any identity and goodness I have.

I think about so many incredible experiences I have had, and I know for sure, it is because I was in a place at a time the spirit directed.  Losing the Spirit would devastate me.

Over the last several months, however, I have realized more and more, that the institution is not what I thought it was.  In big ways, it is flawed.  I can not pretend that it is me that is the reason.  That is simply untrue, and recently, I have decided it is ok to be only as involved as I can.  I have resolved to set boundaries, and not let anyone cross them.  All the while though, I was really worried about this idea of losing the spirit- still, becoming more and more sure that these boundaries are necessary for my survival.

Then I had two profound experiences in the last week.  After I realized I have to be authentic, and I do not find the church to be perfect.  Nor its leaders.  Nor its history.


1)  On the way home from Salt Lake City airport, and I was seated beside a little girl traveling alone.  She was being sent to Georgia, as commanded by a judge, to her mother.  This little girl revealed so much to me, that I am certain I was sat beside her so that I could get home, contact her grandfather, and give him information to keep her with her father and away from her mother.  I was there for her.  The Spirit is with me, and prompted me to ask her questions and react in ways that she would trust me.  She reminded me of my 10 year old self- but I had no one to listen.  I had no one to stand up for me.  I had no one.


2) The very next day, I was driving to the interstate, when right in front of me, a car slammed into a semi driving the same direction as me.  As we got closer, the car between the semi and me did a u-turn and drove off.  I parked, ran to the car, and saw a man who had just died.  As I realized no one else was in the car, I ran to the crying man who had been driving the semi.  When he saw the other gentleman had died, he lost it.  He could not stop crying.  He had blood running from his face and hands.  Four of is were there, one man was trying to cover the body of the dead man, one was calling 911, one was talking to me, and we were all watching the truck driver.  When he collapsed in tears, I went to him, thinking "I may get hit, but he needs comfort."  When I put my arms around him, he leaned into me and began to shake violently.  He needed me.  I held him tighter and got him to calm down.  I spoke to him, I mourned for him,  I told him how lucky his family was to still have him.  I held him until EMS workers arrived, and then I knelt beside him, still talking to him.  I watched him be loaded into an ambulance, and I prayed for him.  I still pray for him.  I listened to him sob.  I listened to his regret.  I listened to his fears of how he was going to provide for his family with no truck.  I felt I was standing on holy ground.

When I saw the man who had died, his face was prisitine, no blood, closed eyes, red hair streaked with gray, and a peaceful face.  This man was decapitated, and I did not feel scared, I did not feel threatened, I felt again, that I was in a holy place.  It is terribly sad, without a doubt, but I was in a holy place.  The spirit is still with me.

I am still good.

I am still able to see people- deeply- and help them.

I am still worthy.

I did not do the things that have changed my heart and my mind about the church.


I will not feel guilty for abuses and dishonesty I did not commit.

I will stand by the boundaries I have created.

I will be grateful and kind to those around me.  I will be open and honest.

I will live authentically in 2013.