Walls

Since the end of high school, I've always been one of great faith and devotion to my religion, and have always carried an immense love for God. I studied my scriptures to the point of the binding losing its strength. I served a mission for thirteen months where I lived and breathed the gospel of Jesus Christ. I was adamant about praying to God day, night, and times in between. I walked the walk, and talked the talk. Why? Because I loved God.
And I still do.
But I've had a minor (okay, quite major) setback.
Up until now, all the experiences I've shared have revolved around my brother's tragic passing--which, understandingly, is the underlying reason for my spiritual withdrawal and every little struggle in between since that horrible day.
My last blog post revolved around my anger towards God for not telling anyone that Christian was struggling and how to help him--and quite frankly, that sent me running far, far away. I began to build walls between me and God, and I most likely did it as a result of being hurt. I receded into a spiritual hole that consisted of nothing but me and darkness. We've become rather close, Darkness and I.
See, when I decided to shut off communication to and from heaven, I've always felt lonely. Sure there'd be times of laughter, and little bits of happiness here and there, but ultimately every inch of sunshine had been hidden behind a great mountain--one that I created as a result of fleeing because of my pain for which I blamed God.
I've fought myself about building these walls to keep God out. After I wrote my previous post, I finally had it with the loneliness and silently cried to myself, "I don't want to feel this way anymore!"
I still haven't prayed. I still haven't read my scriptures. I haven't been to church in weeks.
In all honesty, I felt like I couldn't do any of those things with this anger weighing on my shoulders. It didn't feel right sitting in church and feeling angry at God when I was supposed to be there to worship Him. How could I worship Him when I felt He was to blame for everything going wrong in my life?
Little by little, the walls have come down and I'm beginning to feel guilty for ever blaming Him at all. I'm ready for a reconciliation. I've stopped trying to tell myself to forgive Him because, well, there isn't anything to forgive.
I've still been scared of going back, of putting my trust in Him. But today, I had a boost of confidence. Here's why:
Elder Oaks was a guest speaker at BYU-Idaho's weekly devotional this afternoon, and the words I use won't do justice to the feeling of love I felt emanating from God when he walked in the room.
College students are noisy--especially when there are over two thousand in a single auditorium--but as soon as this apostle walked into the room, it fell silent in mere seconds. We stood out of respect as he entered, and I felt something inside me that I haven't felt in months. I knew in that moment that the spirit was telling me that I am loved by a Heavenly Father who has called this man, among many others, to ensure that I will make it through this life and all my struggles with as much help as possible. Immediately following that inspired thought, I felt that there is no way God doesn't love me if He has provided all the resources He has--His Son being the most vital and precious--for me to find everlasting joy and eternal peace someday. There's absolutely no way.
I've yearned for this feeling when I've attended church and religion classes, but I haven't felt anything as a result of those walls.
I find it no coincidence that just days before I had this experience, I plead with myself to start breaking down the barriers and letting God back in--and instead of calling Him "God", start calling Him by what He is and has always been to me--my Heavenly Father.
This has been the toughest journey to travel, and I know without a doubt that God is there, and He did not allow my brother to take his life out of spite for my family or Christian. I know that God loves all of His children, and He will never leave us even if we turn our backs on Him--which I have been doing.
For months, He has been waiting for me to run back to Him, and tonight, I'm sprinting. For the first time in five months, I'll pick up my own scriptures and read because I want to. For the first time in five months, I'll kneel down and pray because I want to. For the first time in five months, I'll call God by His rightful title and rely more fully on His son's infinite Atonement.
Tonight, I'm grateful for my Heavenly Father.