- Here is what I'm piecing together as I look back on the past six months (edited for this blog):
Back toward the beginning of our coaching, I expressed disappointment in my prayers and how I felt like I had to gear up for prayer, like it was an event. I basically stopped praying on my knees in the bathroom before going to bed and just kept praying in my mind. But then my mind started not functioning as well. I was looking more and more to coaching sources for answers because I was trying so hard to make progress with our coaching experience. That meant I spent less time on truth from God's sources—although I think coaching and the gospel can complement each other in a beautiful way.
During that time, I also felt strongly prompted to start writing my book—and made more progress than I have ever made before. I really do believe that I was receiving magnifying and enabling help from heaven. So I spent a little over two months focusing on that project almost exclusively. I stopped watching the "Don't Miss This" videos, which was how I was studying for Come Follow Me, and didn't spend much time in the scriptures—other than searching them and Ensign articles for verses and quotes that inspired the journey I was writing about in my book. I think that's why I was so confused and eventually defeated when my husband kept telling me I couldn't quote them nearly as much as I was.
Meanwhile, there were no ongoing temple ordinances or refuge from the storm that I found within the temple walls—which used to occur several times each week. There was no more family history (which was effectively turning my office into a temple), institute classes (twice a week for the previous year), church family, or friends strengthening me (except for a handful of walks with my friends—when it used to be 2-3 times weekly). There was just an occasional walk or talk with my ministering sister (who is on her own confusing journey after two years of crisis and turmoil surrounding a difficult situation.) It was just me in a house full of people who don't believe in ways that are supportive to my faith. No ministering brothers (except for one or two texts), no family members I could trust with my emotional or spiritual health (except for my sister and it's hard to figure out a time to talk on the phone), no priesthood blessings, no outside guidance—other than coaching, coaching podcasts, and Instagram.
The bishop gave my husband authorization to administer the sacrament to me, but he doesn't believe, so he couldn't ever say anything spiritually uplifting. So my church was just listening to "In Humility, Our Savior" by Hilary Weeks while I got myself and our bedroom ready to be a place of sacramental worship. Sometimes, prior to that, I listened to "Broken" by Kenneth Cope (along with a few other EFY songs) while I was taking a shower before getting ready. Therefore, my last lifelines to spirituality were the music and lyrics of Kenneth Cope and Hilary Weeks—I wasn't listening much to her other music because I needed to focus while writing my book. Then I had that complication with Hilary giving permission to use the lyrics in my book after all. And my communication with Kenneth was also very unsettling, although he tried to be supportive. They don't actually know me in real life, though, so that isn't their fault. I think that communication with them ended up being the last crushing blows to the small shred of spirituality and self-confidence I had left. I used to listen to hymns by Vocal Point in my car, but I have driven my car only a handful of times in the past seven months.
The overarching theme has been that my husband has felt more stress and pressure than he's experienced in 15 years because of the complications to his two jobs by COVID-19, while also trying to earn his master's degree online. He needed more than I could give in support and he had very little energy to give me much support in my challenges. Meanwhile, therapy and coaching were becoming more and more heavy and draining—and, suddenly, all the self-introspection brought self-hate and self-doubt rushing to the surface. Then I started watching our grandson part-time, which left me sleep deprived and emotionally unstable.
I read these verses in 3 Nephi 18:18-20 last night and again this morning: "Ye must watch and pray always lest ye enter into temptation; for Satan desireth to have you, that he may sift you as wheat. Therefore, ye must always pray unto the Father in my name; And whatsoever ye shall ask the Father in my name, which is right, believing that ye shall receive, behold it shall be given unto you."
One of the reasons I have avoided those verses in the past is the one that follows them in verse 21: "Pray in your families unto the Father, always in my name, that your wives and your children may be blessed." There hasn't been family prayer in our home for several years. So, I guess the final verse was causing me to feel doubt about the previous two verses.
And I'm learning more and more that Satan is mean. He can't cause mental illness, but he will definitely exploit any weak spots a person has. I think I was kind of being "sifted like wheat" in every direction.
I never sent my coach the first 16 chapters of my book. Those are the ones that discuss the spiritual and emotional side of my journey. I discussed the compensatory blessings I've received, even though my prayers haven't been answered about my family's unbelief in the way I have hoped. But most of those spiritual compensatory blessings gradually disappeared as the pandemic went on and my isolation became more destructive. My coach only read the social side of my journey, which is the section I was editing during the last part of these challenges. That part wasn't giving me the spiritual upliftment I needed along the way, and it also emphasized how those things were no longer a part of my life—which is why I started feeling like a hypocrite.
That is why I was feeling so parched and empty coming into this General Conference. The first session was all tears. The second session started my recovery. The third session began giving me the answer to switch my focus from coaching sources to gospel sources. The Sunday morning session gave me my definitive answer to shift my focus fully back on Jesus.
By the time the final session ended, I was drained emotionally because conference weekends are the most difficult weekends of the year at our house. I am in my office with the door closed for ten hours—which pushes everyone's buttons. And, it's "insult to injury" for them that it's ten hours listening to people they don't respect, preaching things they don't believe in (and they feel that preaching drives a wedge between me and them).
Does it make sense? I take full responsibility for my errors in judgment along the way. But I also feel like my physical/emotional illnesses played a part in that—although I'm trying not to use that as an excuse. And I understand that circumstances are neutral, but I think this particular combination of circumstances was a difficult set for me to manage with the challenges I was dealing with behind the scenes.
So, that is why I'm confused about the coaching experience at this point—especially since I spent $2K on it over the past six months. I think I was supposed to quit listening to other coaches (since they are just dispensing general coaching), but not quit working with you (since it's more personal). I also think that you're probably the only coach in the world who has the empathy and spiritual strengths that I need to help me recover from this unfortunate situation I've ended up in. I feel like I've made the proper course corrections, but I also feel unsettled about my level of self-confidence as I continue my progress on this correct path.
I'm also anxious about focusing too much on my thoughts and feelings because it seems like that is part of the reason I gradually ended up in this situation. That is my understanding at this point, but I'm not trying to discharge blame. So I'm hoping that the combination of Jesus, my coach, and me can help me back onto solid, steady ground over the next month.
No comments:
Post a Comment