My Beliefs. In a Nutshell.

Hey, friends.

Some of you might remember the "I'm a Mormon" videos of yesteryear. If you need a refresher, here's one of my favorites.

Recently, my husband and I have been volunteering as "Digital Media Missionaries" in our church congregation (in my church, congregation = "ward"). Basically, my job is to talk about Jesus and connect people with my church via social media. Our higher–up church leaders (called "stake" leaders) encouraged us missionaries to make our own videos, similar to the "I'm a Mormon" videos, about our belief in Jesus Christ.

While I wrote my script last month, every time I think about getting in front of a camera, I start feeling queasy. So while I work my way up to video status, I wanted to share my written version of my belief in Jesus Christ here.

Enjoy.


THE SCRIPT:

Hey, I'm Mikayla. I am OBSESSED with stories. From the time I learned my letters, I never stopped reading. And from the time I could pick up a pencil, I never stopped writing. Currently, I'm working on two novels for teens; one is a historical swashbuckling adventure and the other is a contemporary romance. I'm also earning my master's degree in Creative Writing at BYU. I'm one of those weirdos that adores school.

Anywhere with my family is my favorite place. My husband, Kevin, and I have been married for seven years. He's a hunk. And we have two sweet and super silly boys, Charlie & McKay. We like spending time outside, playing board games, and eating really good food. Like really good food. I'm not a picky eater, but I am a posh eater . . . I go for quality.

I have believed in Jesus Christ since I was a little girl; His teachings always made sense to me. Love one another. Don't steal. Don't lie. Don't commit adultery. Love your enemies and do good to them that curse you. All of it made sense. When I read about Jesus and lived his teachings, I felt a warm peace blanketing me. He was so close to me, so real to me throughout my childhood and young adulthood.

My relationship with Him was tested, though, shortly after I gave birth to my first child. Postpartum anxiety came to call. Lucky me! That postpartum anxiety turned into long-term depression and anxiety. With mental illness clouding my mind, I couldn't feel Jesus anymore. I kept going to church, I kept reading my scriptures, I exercised and I served people and I took care of my new baby. But I couldn't get the darkness to go away. Ruminating thoughts haunted my mind in from the time I went to bed until two or three in the morning, whispering things like Check on your baby, Mikayla, he's not breathing. You're a horrible daughter, you know that? The back door isn't locked, even though you've checked it seven times— get up and check it again or someone's going to break in and hurt your husband. You used to help your family members and friends, but now you're so depressed and such a drag, they'd honestly be better off without you. It was a crappy dialogue to listen to all night long. The worst part? I believed all of it.

Needless to say, I wasn't sleeping well. I wasn't eating well. My self confidence was at an all–time low and my heart felt like a pile of battered mush. 

For the first time in my life, I felt shut off from God. 

Each time I prayed, I kept hitting a wall. What used to make sense didn't make sense anymore, the fire of belief and strength and peace I had felt my entire life previous . . . it seemed dead. Guilt swamped my soul. I had done something right, hadn't I? I'd given life to my precious son! I'd replenished the earth! So why was God punishing me with this horrible, chronic mental illness? Where had I gone wrong?

A decision faced me in the thick of my mental illness: to give up my faith, or to keep trying.

I chose to keep trying.

While the gloom and the worry was consuming, I couldn't deny the experiences I'd had with Jesus before. I KNEW HE WAS REAL. I had lived in a life of hope and sunlight before, and I wanted it back. 

With the encouragement of my husband and a heckuva lot of deep breaths, I went to my first therapy appointment. Contrary to my 2AM ruminating worries, my therapists were kind and compassionate. They listened. They understood me. Most of all, they knew how to help. Over the course of two years, my therapists have helped me dissect and treat my mental illness through well–researched therapy methods. 

Slowly, I've felt less and less mentally sick. But to be real, guys, I'm still riding the struggle bus. Life before my mental illness felt like long sunny days punctuated with brief moments of darkness. When my mental illness hit, I lived through long dark days punctuated with brief moments of light. My life right now looks like four or five sunny days in a week, followed by one or two tempest days. 

Through all of this, I've learned that God is still there, even if I'm struggling to see and feel Him. The sun is still shining behind those storm clouds, and with my therapists' help and the process of time, those clouds dissipate so that I can see and feel Jesus' warmth.

None of us are exempt from pain. Christ lived a perfect life, and yet, he was betrayed by his friends, "condemned on spurious charges, and sentenced to die on Calvary's cross" (The Living Christ). It stands to reason that the rest of us, who are far below Jesus status, are gonna suffer some pain, too. The miracle, though? Christ became acquainted with grief so that he can know the pain I feel, and the pain you feel. Not just feel it, though. He suffered so that he could help us through it and make us stronger than we ever were before. Throughout my own grief, I feel Christ reaching out and telling me "I know what you feel, Mikayla Renee, and I know that you can do this." God hasn't taken my mental illness away, but he's shown me that I am strong enough to live with it. He's shown me that I can rely on others, receiving incredible help from mental health professionals and dear family members and friends. He's shown me that I can support others, mourning with them while they are tossed about in their own mental storms. 

With Christ, I'm strong enough. And that's all I need right now.

I am a writer, a mother, a wife, a reader, a student, a dreamer, and I suffer with mental illness. I follow Jesus during good times and bad. I make a lot of mistakes, but Jesus helps me fix 'em up and try again. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter day Saints, and God is good.

"The Hand of God" By Yongsung Kim; My Favorite Depiction of Christ

Source: https://yongsungkimart.com