The Temple and Endless Tears

It was a cloudy morning, a mostly nice drive, and as I turned right into the Visitor's Parking lot- my preferred parking space, they started falling.  My tears came in waves like I have not experienced in years.  For the last 20 months, I have remained stoic- with the only emotion I have felt toward the church, indifference, and occasionally- Anger, sometimes replaced by pity.

Today though, it was sorrow.  Deep, real, nearly unbearable.




The first time I saw the temple, it was New Years Eve 2001.  I decided to take Valerie to New York City that year after 9/11.  I got a hotel 4 blocks from Times Square for $100 for 2 nights, and it was a 5 star hotel.  As we drove past the pale building with gold spikes I pointed it out, "Look! SIX FLAGS!"

Four years later, I got an email from the man I was dating long-distance "when I come see you, I want to see this with you..."  It came complete with the address- it was then then I realized it was a mormon temple.  I did take him there- straight there, actually.  We kissed in traffic every time we had to stop.  That was the best DC traffic drive ever.  Oh, the memories.  We took many photos together.  a month later he flew me to California to be with him for a week.  2 months later, I too joined the mormon church.  It nearly killed me when I found out he was "happily"married  and not getting a divorce- as he had told me over and over and over.  Instead, he was having an affair with me.

 Regardless, I felt like staying in the church, though the first Sunday after the great understanding took place, I thought "I will direct the choir, because they are singing today (a song he had picked out), but this is IT!"  I stayed.

Two weeks later, I went to the temple with my friend Diana and watched a movie there.  I dont remember the name of it, but it was about the Americas in the Book of Mormon times.  The only thing that made an impression was a scene where Jesus was walking by a desperate man.  He said "I believe!" Jesus looked down at him, pointedly.  The man stared back... "help thou my unbelief."  well, that hit my heart like you would not believe.

It was moments like that that kept me going.  Crawling on, desperate to just feel something.

I would go to the temple alone, or with Valerie and we would just spend the day there.  Hoping for inspiration or love, or something.  at that point I could not go in.  But I still made the 2 hour drive about every couple months or so.  Most of the time, I just prayed.  I felt sorry for my sins, I asked for guidance, I tried to be my best, humble self.  I desperately wanted to be blessed with the things I wanted most- love, stability, direction.  The temple, and being there gave me a little bit of that.

I had the missionaries, plus two other young mormon guys at my apartment for dinner twice a week for my first couple years in the church.  They "let" me make dinner for them, and Valerie loved them.  So did I.  I still do.

This is Valerie outside the temple

This is the Missionry who baptized me- on his way back home.  I had been in the church about a year at that point.  Valerie was 8.  Sorry about the blur.  

I got my Temple endowments on Feb 11, 2006.  I went with Diana.  It was a very cold day.  Valerie was with my friend, Kari.

When I got there, I was overwhelmed.  The DC temple has a walkway from the temple recommend desk that crosses over a sidewalk, and into the temple, proper.  That walkway is glassed-in.  As I waked across it, people from the singles' ward lined up to welcome me into the temple- the entire bishopric, and their wives were there.  Smiling, loving me, so proud of me.  It was incredible.  I was deeply and completely touched.  THIS is what I had been missing all my life.  Acceptance.  Love.  I was full-on crying when I got there.  brother Harris was like "wow, already crying, heh?" and he gave me a smile.  Behind them, was an amazing mural of Christ's return.  One one side of him, those who were exalted.  On the other, those who did not make it- all due to their own decisions.  It made quite an impression.  I knew I would be able to be in the "exalted" group now.


I went through a records-checking process, then we were told to go to the elevator a couple floors up.  That was when Diana whispered to me.
"You know the photos you always take of the stained glass on the corners of the temples?  You need to see those from the other side, we will take the stairs."






The entire time I went to the DC temple, I never once took the elevator.  This view from the other side is just gorgeous.  I will never see it again.  When we got upstairs, the kitchen people were wandering the halls.  I thought the cafeteria must be close.  They took a lot of pride in their uniforms.

 Initiatories blew me away.  I was in a white large poncho and garments.  I was taken into a room that looked a lot like a gym room shower stall.  At both ends of the cubicle were white curtains.  Two women placed their hands on my head.  I immediately wept.  I had no idea that was going to happen.  Women with the priesthood?  WOW. I loved my initiatories.  They were all promises made to ME by WOMEN with the PRIESTHOOD.

After that, it was time for endowments.

I was dressed by the women in the bishopric and Diana in a beautiful "special" dress.  It really was something.  I was told only worn on the endowment day.  I did feel beautiful in that dress.  The garments did not bother me nearly as much as I thought they would.  In fact, I was warmer with them.  The temple matron (temple president's wife) came in and told my friend, Krissy, and I that we were good for getting our endowments and that we should dress to cover our garments.  That was all I remember about that meeting.  What I do remember is wondering what the heck was in the white, cloth packet that the lady at the clothing rental desk gave me.  Lucky for me, I would find out. 

I sat next to Diana, in front of Sister Snow, Sister Harris, and Rebecca.  Abigale was to my left.  So was Anna.  The men were all together, to the right.

Brother and sister Dudley were sitting in the front, center of the room.

I was very confused by the endowment session. I was horrified by putting the things in the packet on.  It was awkward, and I felt weird.  My fine hair and that veil were just an awful match.  I was bordering panic by the end, then I was taken to "THE VEIL" where I had to do lots of hand motions, and repeat specific words.  I did not like that at all.  It made no sense to me.  Once there, I went into the "Celestial Room" Diana was waiting for me.  she knew I was freaked out "Come back as soon as you can and come back as much as you can - at least once a month.  It will not be as foreign."  I nodded.  One by one, all the people who came to be with me came and hugged me.  I felt **SO** loved.  If they were all there, and had been coming for years, it must be ok.  It must.

I was dressed like a chef.  Diana took me to the mirror, but I refused to look at myself.  I hated the way I looked.  That darned veil.

I went back a couple days later.  I was partnered with a very elderly man and this time, it was he and I at the front and center of the room.

I went to the temple EVERY MONTH for years.

I dedicated myself to being temple worthy.  Even when I could not afford the drive anymore, I still kept myself in check, gladly attending temple interviews, taking sacrament, etc.

I left the church, as a temple-recommend holding active member in 2012- December.  I had just had enough.

I have been on several temple grounds since- even a couple weeks ago, and I felt nothing at all.  Today though, the sorrow was overwhelming.  Totally, completely.

I felt like I could cry forever.  As it turns out, I was wracked in full-body sobs for 45 minutes.  Every time I would stop, I would cry again.  I mourned the 10 years of my life trying to make sense of things that made no sense.  I mourned all the desperate prayers and reliance on faith, and acceptance of things that felt wrong to me.  I mourned letting the missionaries in.  I mourned going back to church after Jared hurt me the way he did.  I cried for the promises I made Valerie thinking that they would absolutely come true.  I mourned the spontaneous, brilliant, bubbly, confident, funny 27 year old I was when I began learning about the church.  I hate that I was so committed to something that left me with next to nothing.

I hate that I have lost so many friends.

I hate that the family I thought I was going to get never happened and that I was always treated as less than.

I hate that nothing I ever did measured up because I was not a stay-at-home mother whose main purpose was to "strengthen home and family" when that would have been a vacation compared to what I had been doing.

I hated that my education and fight to succeed was treated at a liability.

I hated that my daughter was shamed.

I hated that I was shamed.

I hated that I was never given a chance to ask questions or talk about the disturbing things I found.

I hate that I loved something so much, and it never loved me back.

Today, more than ever before, I felt the sorrow of having left the church.  It hurt me too.  I loved it.  I believed in it.  It hurt me to leave too.