Making my peace

We are preparing for our annual trip to the Outer Banks. This year I am lucky enough to get two weeks. The first week will be with my family, the second week will be with Erik's family. My sister's daughter will be having her baptism during our trip. This works out well, since my sister only lives about 90 minutes away from where we are staying (it is normally a 7 hour drive for us).

As I was starting to pack for the trip, and reminding myself to bring church clothes for myself and the kids, I suddenly thought about this post from last summer. And I realized that the vast majority of that angst is gone. I can't think of anything magic that has happened. No big event. Just time passing, I guess. There have been more family gatherings, a visit to church for my nephew's blessing, encounters with former ward members.

The other day I was having a conversation with Marc's teacher who mentioned (as part of a story he was telling) that another student in his class was Mormon. He started to explain something about Mormonism (again, relevant to the story he was telling) and I just laughed. I told him I knew all about it - I was raised Mormon and my whole family still attended that church.

He was very surprised - he had absolutely no idea. He said that seemed like that type of religion that you just don't leave. I told him it isn't and that it was very difficult. He said I didn't seem "Mormon" to him at all. I told him thank you. And I realized that now I've been out of the church for so long (it's been almost two years) that I have a whole new group of friends who never knew me as a Mormon.

Anyway, I've just been reflecting on this all. And I do feel like I've made my peace. I just don't have the anger any more. I don't have the awkwardness with my family. I don't have the feeling of being lost. I've finally reached that magic place that From the Ashes wonderfully identified as the goal so many of us have - that now I can just say, "Oh yeah, I was a Mormon once."