Your Losing Me

Your Losing Me

I dated my missionary for a few more years before we got married. Like many young couples starting out, we found an apartment, continued our studies, and worked hard to support ourselves. Everything seemed to be going well until a few months into our marriage when my husband revealed that he didn’t truly believe in the Mormon Church and never really had. To him, it might not have seemed significant, but for me, it felt monumental. I had always believed in it and dreamed of creating the “perfect Mormon family", making up for what I felt I missed growing up. 

I didn’t express much to him at the time, only that I didn’t want to attend church alone like my mom had. I asked him if he could at least come with me to church, which he agreed to, and I appreciated. Externally, I may have appeared composed, but inside, I was completely shaken. We had just been married in the temple, and now that sacred union felt empty. My dreams had shattered, leaving me with a profound realization: there would be no perfect Mormon family, no family prayers, no Family Home Evenings, and no going to the temple together as a couple. I understood that I would never fully belong to the church in the same way others did. The fact that he waited until after our marriage to share this was equally distressing; I felt I should have known before we wed, allowing me to make a more informed choice. All I could do was hope he would remain connected to the church and that perhaps his perspective might change over time.

A few years later, he graduated from college and joined the Air Force to become a pilot. We soon moved to Pensacola, Florida, for pilot training and adjusted to military life. In our new church ward, we were called to teach a children's class together—common for young couples—but it was hard to connect with other adults since I didn't spend time with them. Compounding this, none of his friends in flight school were members and very few were married, which left me feeling isolated. I worked on finishing my Bachelors degree long distance, which kept me busy, however, I missed my friends and family and  began feeling increasing lonely.

A few months into our move, he picked up sailboarding, choosing Sundays as the ideal days to practice so I found myself heading to church alone, exactly as I had feared. By this point, I felt utterly alone. He was consumed with pilot training, I spent my days studying, and my family was across the country. It seemed as if we were drifting apart; military life didn’t seem to suit me, and the Mormon/married life didn’t appear to fit him. Whenever I tried to address these feelings, he became defensive, insisting that it was my problem to deal with.

One particularly tough day, I broke down and poured my heart out to God. I expressed my uncertainty and voiced my plan to return home if things didn’t change soon, where I would at least be close to family. I knew I couldn’t leave immediately, though, since my husband’s younger brothers were scheduled to visit in a few weeks. Not wanting to disrupt their trip, I pushed my feelings aside and focused on preparing for their arrival. In the meantime, God reassured me that I wasn’t forgotten and that He would always be there for me, no matter what lay ahead. Little did I know just how much that reassurance would mean in the days to come...

 Life Flight 

                                       

                                           "Now I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time..."