This story is part of our Tales of Return collection. Read more from Tales of Return.
In 2016 I had a series of events that created spiritual doubt and skepticism in me. I never struggled with my faith before, but found myself skeptical of certain principles and worried that the Latter-day Saint faith was more based off of “blind faith” than truth.
Then in 2017 I came across online reading about the Church and its history that completely rocked my world. My already crumbling foundation was ripped from under me. I literally could not believe in the Church anymore. It was as if someone had proven to me the high unlikelihood of the Church being true.
I tried talking with my husband about my concerns, but he didn’t see things the same way. It quickly put a horrible wedge between us and our marriage. It was clear that we were going to be in a mixed-faith marriage and needed to figure out how to navigate that. I felt extremely misunderstood. I know he did too. Our communication suffered greatly in the beginning and it tested our limits. I also quickly learned that online support group forums were not going to be healthy for me or our marriage. I couldn’t allow myself to become bitter. But I also didn’t feel like I had anyone healthy to communicate with about all of my concerns, to help me navigate this new life, or to figure out what in the world I even believed in at that point.
I knew I was still a good person, but I was aware of how lonely, lost, and broken I felt inside. I had no foundation. Very quickly, I even began to conclude that there must not be a God. Or if there was one, it was a God that didn’t care about or love us. How could one justify watching and allowing all the terrible things in the world?
In 2018, my health began to decline. It started out with small strange symptoms, that quickly snowballed into a drowning of overwhelming darkness. I truly felt like I was dying 24/7. I didn’t sleep—muscles burning and constant panic attacks left me feeling completely brain dead. Doctors couldn’t find anything wrong on my blood tests, but I knew that something was seriously wrong.
I intuitively began looking into more holistic health approaches, which ironically went against everything I had founded myself upon the year prior since I only trusted in what science could prove. But western medicine wasn’t giving me the answers I needed, and I knew I was ill on so many levels. Looking back I now recognize where angels and God were directing me towards my path of healing.
I had surgery to remove breast implants that I had earlier, and afterwards found myself better in some areas but worse in others. I had entered a dark place I didn’t know existed, and I frequently considered suicide. It was here that I had to dig deep to find faith in something bigger than me. I needed God to be real.
As I made tiny steps of faith—and I mean tiny—the evidence of God was made known to me. In my darkest days, His light and miracles shone through and pierced my sinking, lost soul. One of my most sacred moments was when I was able to reconnect to the Atonement and Jesus Christ. It was a very personal experience that showed me just how much the Lord knew me individually, and how I would learn. How real the Atonement is, and His ability to heal. It rebuilt my crumbled foundation stronger than ever and I began to hold onto Jesus as my lifeline. It was the hardest healing journey I have ever gone through, but I had miracle upon miracle that lifted me up and quite literally molded me into a completely different person.
I am healed from all of my symptoms, and have emerged from this experience stronger than I could have ever imagined before. But one thing I can and always will testify of is that Christ lives and does heal. He needs to be our foundation first and foremost. All other principles are supportive to His love and His Atonement. If we can deeply root ourselves in Christ, all other questions and doubts will eventually fall into place.