Believing

I don't know if everyone gets to this point in their lives, but for me, there are times when I have a hard time believing. Not that I don't believe, or that I find my faith unbelievable, but that believing can make life hard.

Believing in God's plan and that we are eternal individuals who exist before birth, on earth, and then in Heaven, means I can't believe whatever I want to about where my son is now. I can't think he'll come back to me in some other body, or that he is now a bird in my backyard.

Believing in an eternal atonement that can cleanse me from my sins means that I have to repent and turn my life around and not be a bum when sometimes I want to. Really badly.

Believing that there is a Heaven above where my son waits for me means that there is joy to be had in a family that is whole and together, but I have to wait for it. Maybe a really long time. Maybe not too long, but it feels like a long time, the duration of which I cannot control. And that's very hard.

Believing in the Comfort of the Holy Ghost means that I can be happy and comforted. I have to ask. And sometimes I don't want to ask. Because that feeling you get the first moment you see your child is one you want to keep with you, even when it is the tearing of your heart. But God did not make me for constant sorrow. And sometimes that is hard.

And believing in an eternal family is hard. Because it means I have to build a worthy family on Earth to have a whole one in Heaven. Because I have many days I wonder how I could ever be worthy of that blessing. Because I forget that Heavenly Father once lost a son, too, and that sacrifice is mine to call upon for cleanness and comfort and closeness to Him.

But I do believe all of those things. And I believe them enough to make my life have purpose and a plan. Maybe a vague one, but a plan in the basic sense anyway. I believe them even when they hurt, and sometimes enough to let the hurt pass.