Are you there God? It's me Becky

The other night I was having a conversation with my cousin and sister-in-law about religion and spirituality. It's been nearly 13 years since I have left Mormonism. The three of us talked about our various journeys away from the church. For a few years after I left, I still felt the need to be close to God. I thought about attending another denomination, but nothing felt quite right. I tried to pray, but praying to a God that wasn't the Mormon God I always thought I knew, felt weird. When times got tough, I started asking for help from my family members that have already passed.

At first, it was my grandpa. Losing him was incredibly hard. He left such a gaping hole in our family and in my heart. I still miss him. I suppose I always will. When I was struggling I would often talk out loud to him. That brought me peace.

 As time has gone by, I have stopped praying completely. I couldn't tell you the last time I actually knelt down and prayed. I haven't felt that my life was really missing something. I have began to wonder if I really even believe in a God or a higher being. I've started thinking of myself as agnostic. I don't know. And honestly, I'm ok with that. For the first 20 or so years of my life, I did believe in God. I believed fully. In this phase in my life, I'm just sitting with the idea that there may not be a God. I can't guarantee that I will always feel this way, but for now, I am just trying to let it be.

Interestingly enough, I feel like I have grown into a more compassionate and loving person without religion in my life. I don't look at people and think that they are somehow missing out on some truth. I don't look at people as sinners. I feel like each of us have our own needs and own beliefs that help sustain us through this life. Some absolutely love and need religion and I am completely ok with that. For others, living a life that is accepting, open and focused on equality is enough. I don't mean to imply that those who choose to a religious life are somehow less open. Not at all. I really just am explaining my own path and how I feel it has shaped me.

When I was talking with the girls that night I mentioned a question that I seem to keep bumping up against in this phase. Can I believe in an afterlife and not believe in God? I absolutely believe that our loved-ones are still around. I wouldn't say I believe in "heaven" or "hell" but I do think that they are still "here". Whether that be in some sort of spirit or other realm. I have had too many experiences in my life with family member that is no longer here. I have seen my great-grandmother kneeling next to my bed when I woke up in the middle of the night. She didn't frighten me at all. She smiled, stood up and was gone. I was going through my divorce at the time and I believe she was there to watch over me. When I was really suffering from postpartum depression, I asked my grandma that had passed away just days before, to help me that night.

When Matilda woke up in the middle of the night, I walked into her nursery and smelled roses. The smell was so strong, that it completely stopped me in my tracks. I looked around her nursery thinking, "Maybe Seth brought me roses and put them in here?" Of course, there was nothing. The next day when I sent a message to my aunt Kristy and told her I had a neat experience the night before she said, "You smelled roses didn't you? That's her. That's when she is around." These are just a couple of experiences I have had. But they have been powerful enough for me to believe that life doesn't end when we die.

And then there is David.

Losing my father-in-law was and still is a heart-wrenching experience. The past year and a half has been one of the hardest times of my life. When Seth and I were struggling through our worst times...times when I really thought one or the other would be walking out the door...I asked David for help. In those couple of completely hopeless times, after pleading to David, I have felt things shift. Instantly. And I have been so grateful for him and his guidance.

As I was mentioning this, I had a realization...maybe it wasn't David helping me at all. Maybe it was God.

I think in a way we are all God. David is God. My grandpa is God. I am God. We are all God.

This spiritual journey continues to evolve. I have been thinking a lot about prayer the last few weeks. Prayer used to bring me a lot of peace. I'm realizing that what makes prayer so powerful is the introspection that comes from the act. Prayer causes you to stop, slow down and think about your flaws, your pain and your gratitude. You think about what you could personally work on. "Help me be more patient. Help me be more kind. Help me be a better wife/mother/daughter" Plus the simple act of being grateful makes a person happier. How many of us have a gratitude journal? And then you shift to thinking of those in your life that need help. You stop thinking about yourself and think of them. What a beautiful thing. Maybe I need to pray again. Or meditate. Something that allows me to slow-down, refocus and find ways to be better.

So no, right now I don't believe in a higher-power. But I do believe in the higher-power of us. And of me. And for now, that feels like more than enough.

2017 In Moments

At the end of 2017 I spent a lot of time looking back. It was a tough year in which grief rocked our world. Losing David was incredibly painful in 2016. The aftermath of his death felt even more painful. I watched as my marriage started to unravel through the grief. Seth was reeling. He was depressed and really retreated into himself. I didn't know how to be there for him. Turns out I wasn't there for Seth in the way that he needed me to be. He was hurting and I wasn't there for him in the right way. I'll always regret that. I thought I was doing what I needed to do for Seth and his family but it was far from enough. I won't sugarcoat things. Our marriage was precariously close to ending. Thanks for support from our families and some nudging from close friends, we navigated through. We came out the other end. Raw, jaded and hurt but still intact. Every day requires a lot of effort. There are still days and moments when we wonder if it's all worth it. And yet there are moments where life becomes crystal clear. Moments when the world seems to slow down and things come into sharp perspective. That's what life is really about right? The little beautiful moments that make all of the difference. And while I have no desire to relive 2017, it wasn't all hard. It had wonderfully beautiful moments. That's what I choose to focus on as I look back at this really hard year. Here are some highlights.

In February we went on a trip to DisneyWorld with our closest friends and no kids. We flew the red-eye from Salt Lake to Florida on the worst airline. We got zero sleep and arrived early in the morning in Florida, bleary-eyed. We wasted no time and went straight to DisneyWorld. We spent the day exhausted and happy. We had to stop a few times to rest. We charged our phones, ate, and even napped before getting up and running and riding rides for the next few hours. That night, we had reservations to eat dinner in Cinderella's castle. We were the only people there that were strictly adults. Everyone else had their children. But we went, 5 adults, and ate a really great meal. We had champagne and took pictures with the characters. After dinner we had about 7 minutes before the park was set to close, and we still hadn't made it onto my favorite ride, Splash Mountain. My friend James and I decided to make a run for it. We dashed out of the castle and ran across the entire park. We were existing on no sleep, our feet were hurting and we were a bit dizzy from champagne. But we made it! fWe were one of the last ones to get on the ride. The only ones in the log and it was an absolute blast. As the rest of our group reunited with us, we wandered slowly out of the park. The crowds were gone, and we were among the last people there. Seth and I stopped to snap a picture before we left that day. It was really wonderful. We were beyond exhausted. Everything hurt, but we felt more refreshed than we had in months. Because on this day, we were the kids. We were carefree. We played, laughed and enjoyed until we collapsed completely spent into bed at 1am.

I could simply talk about moments that made 2017 wonderful and talk solely about my new neighborhood. I still can't believe how lucky we were to have found the house we did. Early in year on a spring-like day,  I looked outside and we had 9 kids playing in our backyard. At our previous house we never felt the sense of belonging like we do here. My heart just leaped when I realized that I would be watching all of these children grow up together. That Matilda and Roshi, as cute little 2-year-olds, could potentially grow up and get caught sneaking out of the house together. That Millie and Grant would stay close friends forever, and maybe some day date and fall in love. What a great love story that would be. We are so lucky to have a place like this to call home. Where our doorbell rings at 7:30am with kids wanting to play. Where we walk outside to leave for work on a snowy day, only to find that our neighbors have brushed off our cars and shoveled our driveway. Where we meet together for a wonderful breakfast on the morning on Pioneer Day. Where every day in the summer, when I get home from work, there are at least 5-7 kids playing in the circle.Where we get together before trick-or-treating to share pizza, the kids run around and play, and the adults have a shot of whiskey. Where we meet for holiday parties and birthdays. It's SUCH a dream. We are lucky.

On June 11th, David's birthday, we went as a family up Millcreek Canyon, to spread his ashes as he wished. We had a barbecue and fire. We ate rueben sandwiches and talked about some of our memories of this wonderful man. We each had a bag of his ashes that we then took and spread throughout the area. When I run down Millcreek canyon I always blow a kiss and say hello to David as I run by the area he is. I'll never see the canyon the same way.

In July we decided to go on a quick family vacation to Boise and McCall. Seth and I will always love Boise. It will always be an incredibly special place for us. And not-surprisingly, the girls loved it as well. On this particular day, we went to have lunch in Hyde-park. In the neighborhood where Seth and I lived when we were first married. We walked down 13th street, went in our favorite toy-store. Got some ice-cream at our favorite ice-cream/candy shop. And we ate lunch in a restaurant along the street. We watched the world go by through the giant open window we were seated next to. It was a balmy summer day. The girls were happy and we were in our happy place. Perfect.

Before we knew it, it was school time and our little Millie was off to Kindergarten. There were no tears, from any of us. Millie was excited and ready to start this new phase of her life. That morning as we gathered at the school, the energy was palpable. Kids were crying and clinging to parents. Kids were screaming and hugging, happy to be reunited with friends after the long summer. Parents were wiping tears as they bid goodbye to their 5-year-olds. Then the bell rang, and with her cousin Harvey, Millie happily waved goodbye and ventured into school. And away from us. To this day, Millie excitedly hops out of the car and happily says, "Bye mom! Love you" and runs to see her friends.

This autumn was one of the most spectacular I have ever seen. It was absolutely stunning. The colors were vibrant, the weather was perfection and it actually lasted longer than usual. I'm a lover of fall, so I spend as much time driving and hiking in the canyons as I can. This particular day it was just me and my little peanut butter. We wandered, collected leaves and of course took pictures. She's a fall girl just like her momma.

It's been a dream of mine to throw a really big Halloween party for kids. Since I have such a perfect home to host such a party, I decided this was the year. The Saturday before Halloween was the plan. I wasn't sure how many people to expect. But we ended up with over 50 there. The kids were in costumes and ran happily through our leaf-covered backyard. We played bingo, we wrapped the daddies as mummies. We had a dance party, ate doughnuts tied to string, had pumpkin bowling and pin-the-spider on the web. The weather was perfect the the kids had a blast. But I think I had the most fun of all.

Zion National Park is one of my happy places. In November we went on a family vacation to St. George with all of the Youkstetters. For a day we went into Zion and hiked. The girls were happy. It was stunningly beautiful. I forget how much nature heals.

Christmas was full of activities. It's hard to articulate how magical that time of year is with young children. This night was great at This Is the Place park. It was a warm winter night. We wandered up and down the street and it felt magical. We are at a great place with our kids. They play together, they are easy to take places now. We don't have to rush home to put them to bed. It's just a really sweet spot we are in.

I think that's what struck me about 2017. I really felt like I began feeling less stressed and exhausted as a mother and really began to love it. Watching my two girls play together makes me realize that life is going to be ok. No matter how hard things feel. No matter how much hurt and disappointment is there, life is still wonderful. Because life is full of love and wonder. It's full of magic.