Obedience Brings Blessings

I was born into the LDS church. At a young age, I learned in church that the only way you could get to the highest kingdom was if you were married in the Temple. Ever since that lesson, I felt broken because my mom and dad were divorced, and we didn’t have the priesthood in the home. I committed to myself that when I grew up, I was going to make sure I got married in the temple.

I got married in the Mormon Temple at the age of 22. I had achieved my goal! I was no longer broken, and now I could make it to the highest kingdom if I continued to live up to the covenants that I had made in the Temple.

During my marriage, many instances never made sense to me. I had gotten used to things not being the way I thought they should be. When I would question my husband about what was going on, he managed to convince me it was all in my head and that things weren’t as they appeared. He reassured me that he loved me more than anything else in the world. His embrace and reassuring words put me at ease. Even though I had my doubts, I still believed he would never lie to me.

After 36 years of marriage, my husband told me he was gay and wanted to live his “true self,” as he called it. I asked him if the bishop knew he was gay when we got married. He told me he did, and that the bishop even knew that he had acted on it. The bishop had advised him to hurry and get married and also assured him it would solve everything. I was shocked to discover that the bishop knew. I was never told anything about it. I never had a choice if this was something I wanted to be a part of. I trusted that my soon-to-be husband was worthy to take me to the Temple.

As I watched my husband walk out the door, I felt broken again. The words from my patriarchal blessing came flooding back to me. “If you are obedient to the things you have been taught, you will be led to a righteous man who will take you to the Temple, and be sealed for Time and all Eternity, if that is what you desire.”  I had put my heart and soul into every word. I had lived up to everything that I had been taught so that it would come to pass. It made me wonder if my patriarchal blessing had all been a lie.

My life had been turned upside down. I wanted to find this bishop to let him know I trusted the temple recommend that he had given my husband and tell him never to advise anyone else who was gay to do the same. I had just lost 36 years of my life that I could never get back!

After my husband left, I found out he had drained our life’s savings, my inheritance, and left me with past due bills. Everything I had worked so hard towards was gone in an instant. I was willing to accept that he was gay and wanted to live his true self, but what I couldn’t accept was that he had left me without a penny to my name. To make matters worse, he was trying to convince me not to get a lawyer and that he would make sure I was taken care of for the rest of my life if I would sign papers that he was going to give me. (Papers he and his lawyer had drawn up.) I immediately sought advice from my bishop. He told me the church would pay my bills because he wanted me to focus on paying for a lawyer.

Friends and family donated items for me to sell so I could pay for a lawyer.

I didn’t know when the divorce was going to be final, but I knew that once it was, I would no longer have health insurance. It had been a few years since I had seen the eye doctor and needed new glasses, so I thought I’d better go in and have my eyes checked right away.

It just so happened that my optometrist was also my Stake President. He told me the day after my husband had left, he had come to his house to tell him that he had been kicked out of his home and that I had gone crazy. Then the Stake President said, “I have known you both for years. I didn’t believe what he was telling me, and if anything, I thought maybe he needed to change his medication. He seemed manic, and I thought he was the one who had lost his mind. After he left, I didn’t quite know what he wanted me to do with what he had told me. “

I asked the Stake President if he had time to talk. He said he had all the time I needed. When we were done talking, he said not to hesitate to ask for help. I let him know I was going to do what I could to take care of myself, because I didn’t feel comfortable asking for help. The Stake President responded, that we live in an affluent area, and people were very generous with their fast offerings. Whatever money that was not used by the end of each month was sent to headquarters. My Stake President told me to get therapy. I told him I would be fine. He could tell I was an emotional wreck and assured me that the church would pay for it.

Shortly thereafter, water started dripping from the ceiling into the kitchen. I had known for years that we had needed a new roof. I called my insurance company to see what could be done about it. I was told that just before my husband left, he had received 18 thousand dollars for a new roof, and therefore, they couldn’t help me. I started to cry. The insurance man said he would come and talk to me in person.

When the insurance man came out, he could see water coming into the house and the damage it was causing. At first, he told me he was sorry he couldn’t approve a new roof since they had already paid my husband for it. He told me my best bet was to sue my husband for the money back. After hearing my story, he said that he would approve a new roof right away.

After the roof had been laid, I called up to thank the insurance man for all his help. I was told that I couldn’t talk to him because he no longer worked there. I wondered if he had lost his job because he had approved the new roof. I felt terrible!

About a year into the divorce, I got a new bishop. This new bishop had just moved into the ward. He called me into his office to talk about my situation.

He asked me if I was praying and reading my scriptures. I told him I had never prayed as much as I did now. I also let him know that I did what I could to read my scriptures, but I had to admit it wasn’t on top of my list since my life had been turned upside down. The bishop made it clear that he was there to clean up the handouts that were going on in the ward, hinting that I was one of them.

I did my best to help him understand my situation. As I left his office, I wasn’t sure if I could count on the church to be there for me. I felt confused, but I wasn’t too worried because I had always been taught that a bishop was called of God and would be inspired to do his calling.

A few days later, I was called into the bishop’s office again. This time, the bishop told me I was to go to my family and ask them for help before I came to the church. I let him know I had exhausted all my resources. He then told me I had to figure out how to help myself and that I needed to go to school and get an education. Through my tears, I told him that I was almost 60 years old and was suffering from C-PTSD from everything I had gone through and was still going through.

(C-PTSD stands for Complex post-traumatic stress disorder. It was caused by trauma that started in my childhood. Events where there’s little or no chance of escaping violence or abuse. A mental health condition that developed due to chronic long-term trauma.) He responded that it was time for me to pull myself together and get over it! 

I let the bishop know the help I was receiving from the church was not permanent, and I would be able to stand on my own two feet once I got alimony. The bishop didn’t seem to hear a word of what I was saying.

The bishop then asked me when I would be done with Therapy. It had already been hard for me to get help from the church, as it was, I felt humiliated! I told him I would let my therapist know that our next session was to be the last. The bishop said he was pleased to hear that.

Despite the way I had been treated by my bishop, I was still going to church and was hoping that somehow it would all come together and make sense to me.

I left his office with tears streaming down my face. I felt like I had just been ripped apart, of what was left of me.

The week that followed, I got a warning that my utilities were going to be turned off. I was in the middle of getting papers ready for a new lawyer because it had become clear that the lawyer that I had originally hired was stringing me along. I had already gone to court twice, and both times that lawyer never presented any of the proof that I had provided him so that he could defend me. 

The way things were heading, it looked like I was about to lose my house and also had to pay my soon-to-be ex-husband money. Before my husband left, he had put my daycare and preschool in his name. Now he claimed that I owed him one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Because he claimed that’s how much he had put into it. A daycare and preschool where I was not making much money. The money that I had made, he had already taken from our account before he left.  The lawyer had cost me $14 thousand. Money, I had borrowed, and money I had come up with by selling items that had been donated to me.

I was also dealing with an infection in my mouth caused by my dentist because he had put too much cement in my gums for a tooth that he had implanted. As a result of it, I had been sick for the past two years from the infection. It was a miracle I had survived that alone, and that I was still standing.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it got back to me that my soon-to-be ex-husband had been telling people in my ward, in the neighborhood, family, and friends that I had gone crazy, and that’s why I had kicked him out. He was also posting things that weren’t true about me on Facebook.

I was desperate to defend myself. I wanted to post that I have not gone crazy! Only to realize that would make it seem like he was right after all. All I could do was to wait for the storm to pass, and in the meantime, try not to worry about who believed him.

In my next therapy session, I told my therapist that we had a new bishop and that it didn’t look like he would help me pay for therapy anymore, and therefore I was going to stop seeing her, since I could not afford it on my own. The therapist said you have come a long way. You have gone through more than most people have had to endure in a lifetime. She didn’t think I was ready to stop seeing her. She was worried about me because I was still not divorced, and I was an emotional wreck. I had lost so much weight and had trouble eating. She convinced me to see her a couple of more times and not to worry about the cost.

Ever since the dentist had put too much cement in my mouth, he had tried to get the infection to clear up, but it wasn’t getting better. I needed to see a new dentist.

My former bishop had paid my dentist for a new implant. My oldest son went with me to see the dentist to ask for the money back that he had received for the implant that I never got. The dentist didn’t want to give me the money back. After talking with the dentist for almost 45 minutes, he finally agreed to give the money back. But only if I signed a paper saying I wouldn’t sue him for the pain I had gone through the past two years or for the mess he had made in my mouth. The dentist then informed me that he couldn’t give me the money but was going to give it back to the church. I signed the papers in good faith that I was going to get my mouth fixed by a new dentist.

The following Sunday, after church, I felt hopeless. As I lay on my bed, I wondered if the infection was ever going to clear up. I wondered if my new bishop was going to be there for me. I worried I was going to lose my house, and if I was going to have to pay my soon-to-be ex-husband the money, he claimed I owed him for the preschool and daycare. The divorce seemed to have no end in sight.

After I had cried for a while, it felt like my head was going to explode from pain since the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. I had felt emotional pain before, but nothing like the pain I was feeling at that moment. The only thing keeping me from ending my life was knowing I would hurt the people who I knew cared about me. I had heard of people dying of a broken heart. I wondered how long I would last with the intense pain that I was going through.

Just then, I got a text saying my bishop wanted to meet with me right away. I felt hopeful again. As I was drying my tears, I thought to myself, the new bishop understands, and that’s why he wanted to meet with me again.

I made a list of everything that was broken so that I could give it to him.

It was the end of the year, so I also had to do Tithing Settlement.

When I got into his office, I was about to pull out the list of things I was in need of. Before I got the chance to take out my list, the bishop put some of my past-due bills on the table. Bills, my old bishop had assured me that he would take care of. The bishop then asked me sternly what I had expected him to do with these bills. I was shocked! 

The bishop asked me if I had been paying a full tithing. I let him know I had been paying tithing on my COVID checks that I had received from the government and on the money that I had earned from doing preschool. I told him I did what I could to pay my way, from selling what I could. I told him I had not paid tithing on the money that I had received from selling donated items because I did not consider it income or surplus. The bishop said he couldn’t put me down as a full tithe payer. Then he told me that he revoked my Temple recommend. I could get it back when I had made things right.

For the bishop to tell me that he had revoked my temple recommend, hit me hard! Especially because of what I have had to endure these past 36 years because of my Temple marriage. I did all I could not to let the bishop know where I thought he could shove my temple recommend.

Here, I had done all I could to live up to everything I knew to be right! Something I had devoted my whole life to. I felt like I had just been physically punched. My whole body felt sick.

I then asked my bishop if my husband had been ex-communicated from the church. He responded that it was none of my business. I told him the only reason that I had asked was because I was worried, he would be called to serve in the scouts. The bishop replied, he was sure the men in my husband’s ward were in tuned to the spirit and would know if they should call him or not, and for me to worry about my own salvation.

He then said, “I heard your daughter (who was a single mother due to no fault of her own and did not receive child support) has started a new job and therefore she should be able to take care of the bills from now on! I let him know that she had not started her new job and wouldn’t be for a couple of weeks, and it would be a while before she received her first paycheck. I also let him know that we had quite a few things that were broken that had been neglected that we needed to get caught up on first. It was clear that this was none of his concerns. Instead, he informed me that I would no longer be receiving food from the church.

He told me I should have saved up money so that I wouldn’t have been in this situation. Did he not understand I had saved up money, but it was taken from me against my will!

He then asked if I was still praying and reading my scriptures daily. I felt like I was on trial.  As he was talking, he hinted that if I had been in tune to the spirit, this would never have happened to me. Then he said, “Obedience brings blessings!”

When I thought he was done talking, I got ready to leave his office. As I was walking out the door, he let me know that it was important for me to serve. Especially since the church had helped me. He said to do service for others and serve wherever I could see help was needed.

I could hardly get up in the morning from the infection in my mouth to clean and restore the items that had been donated to me so that I could sell them. I wanted to die! I had nothing left over to give. I told the bishop I had served my whole life, and I let him know I was the one who needed help. I told him I had paid tithing ever since I was 17 years old and that two years ago, before my husband left, we had the missionaries live with us for free for two years. I then asked him, “Doesn’t that count for anything?!” The bishop responded that it was my duty to do these things and reminded me that I had made a covenant in the temple to do so. I was speechless. Then he added, “You are not to be a burden to the church or its members!”
 
After I left the bishop’s office, his words, “Obedience brings blessings!” echoed in my mind.

I reflected on my life. Being obedient, where had it gotten me?

I had grown up in a broken home with a mentally, verbally, and physically abusive mom. My mom had been married 5 times and not always lived how she had been taught by the church. That was the biggest reason why I had put my heart and soul into my Paratactical blessing. I believed if I was obedient, my Paratactical blessing would come to pass. I would be led to a righteous man and have a family of my own, and my children would have a dad who was worthy to hold the priesthood. I would no longer have to suffer any kind of abuse.

In Denmark, there aren’t many members to choose from. To make my Patriarchal blessing come to pass, at the age of 20, I sold my belongings and moved to America. When I met my husband, I thought I had found my eternal companion. A worthy returned missionary. Just like my Patriarchal blessing had promised.

During my marriage, it had been hard for me to raise our children. I felt like I had raised them on my own because he was often gone. Working late or on business trips, as he called it. I believed it to be true at the time, since I didn’t have the full picture. There were times my husband was mentally, physically, and verbally abusive.  I wanted to leave. I would often go on my knees and pray to the Lord to ask for help, to give me strength to endure my marriage and make it work. I had made a covenant when I got married in the Temple to harken unto my husband and be obedient to him. A covenant to be married for time and all Eternity.  I was doing my part and more because I trusted that if I endured to the end, I would be blessed.  

When I got home, I was curious if my husband had been excommunicated. I wrote to an old friend who was just called to be a bishop to ask him if he would mind checking if my husband had been excommunicated. My friend got back to me within minutes. He let me know my husband was still a member of the church.

A few days after seeing the bishop, the Elders Quorum President called me to let me know that the bishop had asked him to meet with me. I agreed to see him because I thought he was coming to see for himself the things I was in need of.

When he came, he had brought papers that were to help members who were getting help from the church to become self-reliant. He wanted to know how much money I was spending a month on clothes. I told him I had not bought a single item since my husband had left. I showed him my pants had holes in them from being worn out. I also showed him my shoes and told him that they were uncomfortable because of the holes worn on the sides of them. Then he asked what I was doing to become self-reliant, and what I could cut down on. I told him the moment my husband left, I had cut down everything I could think of. The Elders Quorum President said he was sure I could think of something to cut down my expenses even more.  I told him I could kill my last two chickens, who are not laying eggs. He thought that it was a good idea. (I was being sarcastic.) I then told him from the very beginning that I had already asked my former Bishop if he thought I should get rid of my chickens. He had let me know that I had suffered enough loss, and he told me it was okay if I kept them.

The Elders Quorum president then asked me what I was doing to get a job, and if I had thought about going to school to get a better job since all I had was a high school diploma.  He added that all I had done was tend children my whole life. He made it sound like I had done something demining. I had been busy raising our children and tending to other people’s children as well in order to pay for credit cards that my husband was always charging on. During our marriage, there were times I had gotten up at 5 in the morning to tend and would often tend till 9:00 at night. I had done this to keep us out of debt and so we could have food on the table, and so our children could have clothes. My husband would put most of his money aside in his 401(k) for retirement. I would often ask him if he could help with the bills. He assured me that when the day came for him to retire, I would be so grateful that he had put his money into our retirement. 

I explained to the Elder’s Quorum President that I had already told the bishop that the help I was receiving from the church was just to get me through till my divorce was over. The Elders Quorum President then told me to fast and pray and to pay what I owed in tithing and give a generous fast offering each month because of the food I had received from the church. As he was saying this, I thought, it’s the fast offering to help people like me who were in need? He then added that if I did this, I would be blessed.

As the Elders Quorum President was about to leave, he asked me what I was going to do to serve since it was so important for me to do so. I thought, can you not see I am doing all I can just to survive what’s happened to me?! He was clueless as to what I was going through. After he left, I was a bigger mess than I was before. Something I didn’t think was possible!

I was no longer getting help from the church, yet the bishop felt the right to send the Elders Quorum President to lecture me.

During my next therapy session, my therapist could tell I was not doing well. She asked me to tell her everything that had happened that had led up to me feeling so lost and hopeless.

I told my therapist what the bishop had said to me and that he had sent the Elders Quorum President and what he had said to me.

She asked me if my husband had been excommunicated. I told her no, and that I had just seen on Facebook he had been posting pictures showing that he was going to church. She told me that there were no consequences for what he had done, and I was the one on trial.

I asked my therapist why I felt like I could never go to church again. She helped me to understand that I didn’t feel safe or protected there. There was no difference between me and a person who had been raped and put on the stand and then asked why she wore the clothes that she had on at the time she was raped. And asked why she was where she was at the time of the rape. While the rapist was walking around free. Adding more trauma to the victim, who had been raped do to no fault of her own.

She said that it was amazing that I was doing as well as I was after everything that I was going through. I was in survival mode. Something the bishop or the Elders Quorum President could ever begin to understand.  It was a miracle that I was still getting up in the morning and that I had not given up, and that I was still capable of raising the money that I needed so that I could keep paying for a new lawyer.

She helped me understand that I was a victim of what had happened to me. I could have done nothing to prevent it!

I sat down and wrote my Stake President a letter to tell him what the bishop had said to me and to let him know that I needed to take a break from the church. I also asked to be released from my callings. I added that I didn’t know if I wanted to have my name removed. For now, I needed to take a break. I didn’t want to feel like a welfare case because of what had happened to me. I didn’t need guilt over not being able to serve, and that I was not doing enough. I needed to focus on healing and get through everything that I was still dealing with. Until then, I had nothing left to give. Hopefully, I would be able to return to church and still want to be a member once it was over. I would cross that bridge when I got there.

Before I had a chance to mail the letter to my stake president, I was called into the bishop’s office yet again. This time, the bishop handed me a bill. It was the total for all the therapy I had received since January. We were now in December. Not one session had been paid for! I was in total disbelief. I told the bishop my stake president had assured me that the church would pay for it; otherwise, I would never have met with the therapist. The bishop’s only response was, “It’s time for you to take care of your bills!” The bishop then handed me a few other bills that had not been paid for. I left the bishop’s office feeling abandoned and alone.

My daughter had taken over my preschool after my husband left, since I had to do what I could to sell the things that were donated to me. In April of that year, we had to shut down the preschool due to my husband trying to sue us for the money she was making, claiming it was his money since his name was on my license as manager. My daughter had not started her new job yet. I still had to raise money for the new lawyer. My mouth was still infected, and I still needed to come up with money for a new dentist so that I could recover from the damage that was caused. Now I also had to come up with the money owing the therapist for all my sessions, and other bills that were now past due.

I called up my therapist to ask her why she had not told me that the bill had not been paid. She said you needed the therapy. The church said they would pay for it, and I kept hoping they would come through for you. I didn’t tell you because you have enough to worry about.

When the stake president received my letter, he called me into his office. I went thinking he would help me. He said he was sorry for the way my bishop had treated me. He told me that people in the church aren’t perfect, but the church was. He then told me that I could have my temple recommend restored, because he knew how much I loved going to the Temple. I told him I never loved going to the Temple, I only went as often as I had because I felt it was my duty. The Stake President looked surprised. Then I said, “It was painful to have it revoked, and I didn’t want to risk it happening again, and therefore I no longer wanted it.”

Then he asked if I still needed help from the church. I thought, “Are you kidding me?!” I let him know I was fine and that the Lord was watching over me. I thanked him for his time and left his office. Shortly thereafter, I removed my name from the church.

When I got a letter from the church saying my name was removed, my youngest son called to ask me how I was doing.

I thought about it for a minute. I always thought I would be lost without the church.  I had paid tithing along with fast offerings. I had served in every calling I had been called to. I felt that no matter how much I gave, it never seemed like it was enough. I felt peace and, best of all, I realized I was no longer broken.

 I didn’t leave the church because I was offended over the way I had been treated. I left because the bishop helped me open my eyes to the blessings I had received because of my obedience. It helped me to see the church for what it was.

 After my divorce, I got to keep my house. The house I had paid for with my inheritance I got 10 years earlier.  During the divorce, I was not able to prove that I had paid for the house, including loans my husband had taken out on it.  I was not able to provide proof of any of it because my husband had kept all the bank statements and waited long enough to get divorced, so the bank no longer had records of it. I got to keep my house at the cost of not getting anything from the 401(K). I have no retirement. I got alimony for 8 and a half years. The alimony is barely enough to get by on. My new lawyer told me to agree to the amount I was offered during mediation. He reassured me I would be fine because I could get money from the government because of my disability due to C-PTSD. I trusted what my lawyer had said, so I agreed to the amount I was offered.

After the divorce, it turned out I was unable to get any disability because I had not worked long enough outside the home.

Since my divorce, I found out that there are a lot of innocent women like me who married gay men in the church without the knowledge of their husbands being gay. I have discovered that it was common practice that the bishops knew the men were gay but were told to get married and not act on it. Resulting in who knows how many innocent women’s lives like mine have been ruined, because years after their Temple marriage, the men wanted to live their true selves.

I have been asked by a leader of the church to go back and read my Patriarchal blessing again. Why, what purpose would that serve? It has been interesting to hear different leaders of the church try to explain to me why my Patriarchal blessing did not come to pass. Someone even told me, maybe your blessing was for the next life. If I wanted one for the next life, I would have waited until I died to get it!

I was invited to a church sacrament program where their kids were singing. I went because the family who invited me was important to me. It was interesting going to the program as a former believing Mormon. Hearing the children sing songs that I had heard a hundred times before, except this time I was hearing the songs from a different perspective.

 One of the songs has a verse that says, “Follow the Prophet, he knows the way.” If the Prophet truly knows the way, would he tell the bishops to tell the gay men who come to them to get married? At the cost of innocent women who have no idea what they are getting into because they trust the Temple recommend that their bishop has given to their soon-to-be husbands.

 If the Prophet truly knows the way, would he allow men to be called as Bishops without proper training? The other song that was sung was called “I Love to See the Temple.” Again, some of the words hit me differently. One of the sentences says, “I promise to obey.” It brought me back to “Obedience brings blessings.”

There are so many faithful members who are paying full tithing and generous fast offerings. I question who is getting blessed by them, doing so. Shortly after, by accident, I saw a program called 60 Minutes. The name of the episode was “Mormon Whistleblower.”  

https://youtu.be/k3_Fhq7sEHo?si=xZuFNIhntKlDM0Qg

It answered my question of where the Tithes and offerings are going and who is getting blessed by the money coming in.

I vented on a public site about how I had been treated by my bishop. This was one of the responses that I got.

I have forgiven the bishop for the way he treated me at a time when I was at my lowest. He helped me to see where obedience has led me. He helped me open my eyes to things I couldn’t see before. However, I will never be able to recover from the added trauma he caused. Daily, I fight the thoughts that it’s time for me to get over my C-PTSD. When people do something for me or I need to ask for help, I have to remind myself that I am not being a burden to them. Daily, I have to remind myself that what happened to me was not my fault. There was nothing I could have done to prevent it!

I have tried to get a job, but because of everything that’s happened to me, I have severe anxiety and suffer from flashbacks and nightmares, and everything else that comes with having C-PTSD.

After I had left the church, my old home teacher stopped by to tell me it was important that I go to church. I just looked at him, not knowing how to respond. Then he asked me, “Do you love the Lord?” I answered yes. Then he said, “You can show the Lord you love him by going to church.” I told him, “I loved the Lord because that’s who has gotten me through this mess and not the church!” Then he asked, “Aren’t you worried about your eternal salvation?” I responded, “I was not afraid of going to Hell. I can’t imagine it to be any worse than what I have already gone through.”

“A friend of mine in Denmark asked me, ‘Where do you think you would be today if you had not been a member of the Mormon church?”  I don’t know how my life would have turned out. I do know, I would not have left my homeland. I would not wake up each morning worrying about the future or how I will get by. I would not be broken beyond repair, all because I had been taught and believed that obedience brings blessings.

Some of my children have told me not to worry so much. They have been and are there for me. If it weren’t for them and my daughter-in-law, I wouldn’t have made it.

I am grateful for all the love and support I have received from family and friends. For that, I am truly blessed!