The Other Side of the Equation

Recently my daughter Haeley posted on social media that she no longer believes the teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and is no longer a member of the Church.  She was immediately surrounded by love and support from those that know her - believers, non-believers, and former believers.  It was good to see that she has such a supportive group for what has been a challenging change in her life.

Haeley's announcement wasn't news to me, because I am on the other side of this experience as Haeley's father - someone who continues to believe in and follow the teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ.  Reading her post made everything new, and raw, and fresh again - and I feel compelled to tell what my experience has been like too.  This experience hasn't been easy for Haeley or for me, but I am going to follow her example and be vulnerable about something very personal in the hopes that others who care can know what the other side of this experience is like.

What is it like on this side of the fence?  In a word:  Agonizing.  My oldest three children have left the Church.  Half of my family has left.

It hurt when it started, it still hurts, and I imagine that it will continue to hurt for the foreseeable future.  Of course this hurts.  If it didn't it would mean one of two things - Either that I didn't love my daughters or that I didn't believe the Gospel.  And neither of those is true - so it hurts. 

 In the spirit of keeping it real - here are some of the (unfiltered) thoughts, emotions, and reactions that I have had as a result of this experience:

• If I wasn't such a weak individual this wouldn't have happened.  Therefore I have failed my family as a father.
• Why didn't we stay absolutely consistent with our family prayer, scripture study, and family home evening?
• I should have attended the temple more often and taken my children to the temple more often.
• Why would my kids deliberately choose to not be a member of our family for eternity?
• Did my son-in-law drag Haeley down or did she drag him down?  Has anyone else been a part of this?
• What kind of influence are my non-believing children going to have on my other children?  Should I limit their contact?
• How could I be such a miserable failure at parenting?  It couldn't be my wife, so it must be me.
• Lots of heart wrenching, racking, sobbing, ugly crying when I am alone.
• Will it ever NOT hurt to see Haeley, her husband, and my other children who have left the Church?
• Will I still have the love for them that I have had in the past?
• Will I lose the youngest three too?

In many ways, the pain has been similar to what I have experienced when a close family member has passed away, but without the comfort that comes as a result of my beliefs about the next life.  In fact, many of my beliefs about the next life in this case have just added to my sorrow.  I have woken up in the middle of the night and immediately felt the agony of this loss.  It has come over me in waves while I am at work, at Church, in the Temple, or just driving down the road or quietly reading a book.  At times the pain has been almost paralyzing.

I have thought about what the future no longer holds - how there will probably not be baptisms or priesthood ordinations, missionary farewells and temple weddings for many of my grandchildren - some of the milestones in LDS life that I have looked forward to participating in since becoming a father.  I have wondered if there will be a distance between me and my future grandchildren as a result of this.

I have also re-examined my own beliefs.  The intersection between my belief and my children's disbelief has been a source of enormous pain.  It would just be easier to give up the fight and join them, wouldn't it?

But I can't deny what I know is true, can I?

So I have pushed through it and have learned a lot of things that perhaps I couldn't have learned any other way.

• I do love my children as much as I did before this happened, and I love being around them, and I am proud of them for the good people they are.  There is a tremendous amount of joy in being their father.
• My kids are each other's best friends, and I love that and hope that it continues for the rest of their lives.
• The principle of agency is a hard doctrine, but it is a true doctrine.  My children and I are free to make our own choices and experience the consequences of those choices. 
• Yes - there are a ton of things I could have done better as a father, but my kids know I love them and love their mother - and that is the most important thing a father can give his children.
• Other people may have influenced their decisions - but ultimately my children are strong enough to make up their own minds.
• I have been far too judgmental of others in the past for the "failings" of their children and I need to repent.  Judgement just adds to an already heavy burden.
• There is still joy in the Gospel for me, in spite of this agonizing experience.

Several people have known about this before it was broadcast to the world and have been, in turns, helpful and hurtful in their responses.  What has been helpful have been expressions of love and concern and sharing of their own experiences with their loved ones who have left the Church.  This has helped me not feel so alone and has been very comforting.  What has been hurtful has been telling me that I need to "call on my children to repent"  or to "lay down the law." This has only contributed to the guilt I have felt about being a crappy father and ignores the fact that they do not understand the intricate dynamics of my family nor the relationship I have with my kids.  In all cases, I am sure that those who have interacted with me have only sincerely wanted to help me because of the love they have for me and my family.  This experience is awkward, and I'm sure it is hard for the many people who love me to know just how to respond to me and the circumstances of my family.

My whole world in a snapshot.

So now what?

I will continue to love all of my family members the same way I have loved them in the past, and find joy in the experience of being their father.  I couldn't experience the joy if I didn't experience the sorrows too.

I will continue to learn through this experience.  I have learned some unpleasant truths about my own character that I need to work on and improve.  I hope that I can become a better husband, father and human being as a result of this experience.

I will also continue to hope and pray and do everything in my power to be faithful so that my youngest kids will know how to gain their own testimonies of the Gospel and stay faithful, and so that my oldest kids will come back to the fold one day.  Until Christ wraps up his work, nothing is final.  I have infinite trust in his love and power to make up for my shortcomings and theirs.

UPDATE: 7/12/19

My wife and I have been overwhelmed by the incredible outpouring of support, both for us and for all of our children, that we have received as a result of this post.  To those who have reached out to us in love, thank you so much.

For a little context - before I wrote this I ran the idea past my daughter Haeley.  She was enthusiastic about the idea, read the post before I published it, and has stayed abreast of the comments being made on my FB page.  She has been as supportive of me as I have tried to be of her.

I have disabled comments because some of them were going far afield from the purpose of this post.  This is about my experience as a believing parent of children who have left the faith they were raised with.  My experience is as real and genuinely felt as my daughters', and my beliefs are as dear to me as theirs are to them.  I have rarely, if ever, seen a post from a parent about their side of this experience - usually the only mention the parents receive is from their children who have left, and the portrait they paint of their parents is rarely flattering.  Coming to terms with this is a process for all parties and we ALL make mistakes as we feel our way through it.  Dismissing the pain parents go through or condescendingly telling them to "get over it" is neither helpful nor productive.

Thank you for your understanding.