Leaving the LDS Church (Part 01)

DISCLAIMER!!!
I originally wrote this story back in August 2015, in 3 parts to make it easier to read.
Several people have asked to read it again or for the link so they can share it.
Since the old website I used to write the original story is no longer working, I decided to move it over here.
I apologize that it isn't original content, but we'll get there. I promise.
So with that, here's PART 01

---

I guess, I could start somewhere near the beginning. I grew up in the suburbs of the Salt Lake Valley, born into a semi active LDS family. I was baptized at the age of 8, just like every other child that I knew. From what I remember, my mother had to fight to get us to attend church, most of the time, which I'm sure is the case for most families.

When we did end up attending, I would usually have an enjoyable experience. I would read along and participate on occasion. Every now and then certain topics of discussion would confuse me, whether it was a lesson from the Bible or the Book of Mormon, but for the most part I would just go along and take what they were teaching as fact. I trusted my teachers. I mean, how could an adult be wrong? And they certainly wouldn't lie to a child.

I do remember, at a very early age, I raised my hand, seeking to understand a particular topic better. The response I received was something that I would hear repeatedly for many, many years. "When it comes to God, you just have to have faith, trust and believe in him." A cop out answer that I later learned meant, "I don't know and I'm not comfortable enough to admit it."

I remember sitting in that class, that day, feeling somewhat empty. That answer wasn't good enough. I wanted more. I wanted a real answer! Some type of evidence or reason for why God does what he does.

I think this event was one that molded me into the inquisitive mind that I am today. If I don't know something, I research and learn as much as I can until I find an answer. Even if it's an answer that I don't want, or even expect, at least it's an answer other than "I don't know, but I have faith."

I still enjoyed a lot of the aspects to the LDS church. Scouting and camping trips were frequent, fun activities. I had church ball (Mormon basketball) to look forward to every winter and plenty of friends to hang out with. There's an amazing sense of camaraderie and, for the most part, a welcoming community; when they're not gossiping about each other.

---

In school, science was never much of a focus for me. I enjoyed learning about how everything worked, but my main focus was sports. It was always at the top of my priority list, so I didn't apply myself, towards schooling, as much as I should have. On occasion though, something would spark my interest and I would dive into the world of learning.

It was around 8th or 9th grade, I began to question The Bible's credibility and thereafter the credibility of those preaching from it. We were on the topic of space, gravity, relativity, stars etc. My teacher got on the topic of light years and what light speed was, from that one movie where Han shoots first.

"The light we are seeing left their respective stars, in some cases, several thousand years ago and others, millions." He said. The statement began to open my mind and I grew more curious about the universe. You mean stars aren't the great kings of the past? They really are giant balls of gas burning billions of miles away? Pumba was right?!

"But, my bishop says," a kids few rows over from me spoke, with an outstretched hand; eager to be the smartest kid in the whatever. "He says that God created the universe six thousand years ago..."

"Well, then I guess he's wrong then, huh?" Is what entered my mind, followed quickly by a "Then what's true?"

The teacher responded very respectfully, "These are just the facts. Present them to your bishop and see what he says." He returned to his brand new white board, that he was so overly happy to have and moved onto the topic of Dinosaurs, "Creatures who roamed the Earth over 65 million years ago." He said, clearly a jab at my classmate.

www.funny-animalpictures.com

Dinosaurs? 65 million years? There's no mention of these creatures in The Bible. The first fossil of these magnificent beings wasn't discovered until the mid-late 1600's and they thought it belonged to a "fee-fi-fo-fum" giant. Dinosaurs weren't really a thing until the 1820's when somebody found, I think it was, a Megalosaurus. So, of course, the men who created The Bible wouldn't have been able to know about them, it was 1400 - 1800 years before their discovery and of course God wouldn't tell his prophets and authors that they existed, because they aren't part of his grand plan. That's why there's no mention of them. Right? "I know! I'll ask my Sunday School teacher. He'll know!"

He, of course, didn't. "I don't know why God does what he does, all I know is I believe in..." blah, blah, blah, he went into the stock response. "If you don't know something, say you don't know and then bear your testimony. The power of the Holy Ghost will fill them with the spirit and they will know that you believe in God." This is an actual recommendation, given to me; by an ordained priesthood leader of my church (I don't remember his name).

So, after receiving the standard response, I went to my Bishop and asked him flat out, "What is God's purpose for the Dinosaurs?" I was as stern as a 10 -12 year old could be. "Fossil fuels." He responded, surprisingly quickly. I left the amused room of people with an answer, finally. That statement made sense to me. We over use fossil fuels every day to keep the world running. So, God created them and then killed them with a meteor (allegedly) so that we would have them as a resource... millions of years later... and cause a dangerous climate change.

Much later in life, I learned of an amazing man named Nikola Tesla and his ambitious plans to give the world sustainable, free energy. I also learned that various people didn't like that idea. They wanted to go the route of making the most money. So the government/corporation backed Edison won and now we pay for electricity and energy, which goes out frequently during the summer months. We also use fossil fuels to drive around because that's what God wanted; was for us to destroy our planet with fossil fuels and not use safe, free, renewable energy. I guess God really does work in mysterious, confusing ways.

Time passed and I went through the normal, Mormon growing up in Utah, paces. I received my Patriarchal Blessing and was excited about some of the things it said. As a little Mormon boy, you hear about all the great things Joseph Smith did and how he overcame so many trials at such a young age. I even wondered if I could be that special boy; the next Joseph Smith. So when I found out that I was from the tribe of Zebulon, instead of the popular one that everyone, including members of my family, belonged to, I was ecstatic. I was different! I was special!

It also talked about what I did in the pre-existence and what God’s plans were for me. It listed a lot of things that I thought was cool at age 12 or 14, like serving a full time mission, getting married and having kids, studying at the Lord’s University and a bunch of other things.

For those who don’t know what a patriarchal blessing is, it’s a blessing from an ordained Patriarch that comes directly from God. It’s kind of a roadmap for your life and a look into who you are as a spiritual being.

Anyway, as time passed, my knowledge of facts grew and my inquiries about the alleged “truths” and beliefs of the church became more frequent. I had an eye opening moment after my high school history teacher pointed out to me that one of my beliefs was built on the fact that I grew up LDS in Utah, I’m pretty sure it was a discussion about gay marriage. She was absolutely correct in her assumption, but at the time I thought that it couldn’t be true. I came to this conclusion all by myself. Nobody influenced, brain washed or indoctrinated me. Right? Right??

---

Time passed and I would have my spurts of regular church attendance, but for the most part a consistent doubt lingered. As my 19th birthday drew closer the talk of my going on a mission was rarely brought up by my family. There was some pressure laid on by my grandmother, but nothing from my parents. All of my closest friends were going and it was something that a good Mormon boy is supposed to do. At this point, I couldn’t honestly say that I had a strong testimony about the church or gospel. What I did have was a love and respect for people.

It’s sad, but I see a lot of religious people struggling with this every day. They have the, if you don’t believe in “MY GOD” you must die, attitude. You don’t believe the same thing I do? Then you are evil and not worth my time or God’s love. Some of the least Christian-like people are Christians, oddly enough. Yes, there are some amazing people in every religion and there are also many amazing people who aren’t religious. Good people are good people; it doesn’t matter where they spend their time on Sunday.

So when I finally decided to go on a mission, it wasn’t because I loved the gospel, or the church or Joseph Smith or that I wanted to share it with the world. I definitely didn’t have a desire to go and baptize a bunch of people either, unlike the majority of my counterparts. I wanted to show the world, or wherever I was serving, that there was at least one Mormon Missionary who cared about them, loved them for who they were and didn’t look at them as just another statistic on a record sheet.

There was a point shortly before I left, I don’t remember exactly when on the timeline, but I do remember that I had this strong moment of doubt. So I went into my room, shut the door, knelt down and prayed. I asked for two things, was the church true and should I go on a mission? I received a very quick confirmation of “yes” I should go on a mission, but nothing in regards to the truthfulness of the church. I’ve asked several times over the course of my life and have never received a confirmation of any church being the one true church.

On October 31, 2007 I was dropped off at the Missionary Training Center in Provo and began the journey that would test my faith to the fullest and what I thought would mold me into the person my Heavenly Father wanted me to be. Oddly enough this path, of serving a mission, was the same path that would ultimately lead to my leaving The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

www.karenhuttonphotography.com/