There is ALWAYS a better way!

It was late...but I needed to get away quickly.  I opened the side door of my home to go outside, but then stopped quickly when I heard the crunching sound of footsteps. Due to the moonlight, mixed with the freezing temperature, I could see my breath in the darkness.  I listened for a moment.  The footsteps sounded like they were just a couple yards from me.  My heart rate quickened as my body froze. The fear was too much…I went back inside and shut the door.

I only made it a couple of steps inside when the anger and emotions I was feeling began to swell inside of me.  Fear was present, but I didn't want to let it stop me.  I began to experience a familiar feeling of rage that I remembered from my High School days.  I had been severely beaten once - only once. I was only 1 day away from finishing my goal of becoming a swimming instructor and so just like I stepped out of the swimming pools locker room, bruised and battered to finish (I would not let the abuser win), I also stepped out again into the cold.  I wanted to face this fear and work through the pain.

As I walked past the cars to the front of my home, the sound of frozen snow crunching from my own steps, echoed in my ears along with the sound of the snow crunching from what seemed to be from my own back yard.  Relief set in as I realized the noise was from a neighbor boy who was outside in the dark playing basketball in the snow.  I cringed thinking about our unfinished house, our open windows and how I had changed with the light on - absolutely sure no one would be outside.  Oh that added an entirely new level of frustration to what I was feeling.  I felt so trapped in this unfinished home.

I needed to get away.

I needed to run.

I needed to clear my mind and I didn't want my children to hear my crying.

The emotions, beginning to surface, were too much for me to continue suppressing.  Tears streamed down my face at first and then as I allowed myself to feel the reality of my new circumstances, my heart began heaving up the sadness of many years of marriage.  I had known the truth for so long...

Surprisingly the warmth of my husband’s sweatshirt kept me free from feeling the sting of the cold night air on my body.  I only felt the sting on my face.  I wanted to run so badly.  I began jogging but stopped abruptly when the pain in my knee halted everything.

I want to run and run and run and run.  I wanted to scream out to the sleepy town “I have been lied to!”

Instead of running, I tried walking quickly.  The pain was intense.  The boots I had been wearing recently had done the same thing to my knee years ago and so I had put them in storage. They were worn too much.  I had pulled them out of storage out of necessity.  I needed new boots.  Dang!  I couldn't even run out of my anger and sorrow.

Walking with my head down, I walked quickly past a neighbors house.  Good friends of mine, wonderful, kind friends, were across the street.  I didn’t feel like saying hello and so I buried my head to my chest hoping they WOULD recognize me and recognize my pain while at the same time hoping they would NOT recognize me in the darkness with the hood pulled over my head.  I cried only when I was safely past hearing distance.

Wounded and bleeding…he was alone.  My mind drifted to thoughts of the injured Jew talked about in the scriptures who the Samaritan helped.  A Samaritan.  Despised of the Jews - yet it was a Samaritan who came to his aid when he most needed it.

I thought of the bishopric who had come to my home several years prior.  They were concerned about me.  I did not tell them very much.  I only felt their lack of true concern for me and my children and they were a reminder of what I knew I ’should be doing’.  I was left with the stinging words of the young leader who was trying his best to do what is right... "why would you think of yourself as an example?"  I bowed my head and mumbled something about being looked up to in days past...that I had worried about being a bad example for the youth by not attending regularly...I didn't tell them everything...I did not trust their sincerity or ability to comprehend.  One of the counselors looked at the other as if to question "what on earth are you saying".  I shut up my heart completely after that visit.

I didn’t understand why I felt the way I did back then…how could I possibly explain it to others?

Many visiting teachers came by. If I couldn't understand what I was feeling after so much prayer, how could they possibly solve my problem in 30 minutes?  All a person needs in those difficult moments is to simply feel loved without judgment.  I felt God was directing me to teach...to travel and to teach.  I felt like a failure as a Christian...but something deep inside sent comforting words...God knew who I was...he knew my righteous desires...

I explained over and over… I can’t explain it.  It is as if my heart and soul knows something my mind cannot explain.

I would try forcing myself to attend. Sometimes I would go and then end up having to leave early.  At times, I would end up vomiting from the emotional turmoil I felt inside.

What was my issue?  Did I have some underlying childhood stored trauma that I couldn’t remember but was somehow dominating my life?

A random text was received from a friend in Texas around that troubling time.  Her words meant more than she will ever know.  She said "I don't know what this means, but I had a very strong feeling to tell you "no matter what the church thinks, the Lord loves you".  We were of different faiths. She did not know of my struggles but I am grateful for those kind words that gave me incredible strength in a time when I needed them most.

When I experienced any music, movie or scriptural account of the Savior’s life, I would cry. We listened to the docudramas of the scriptures every day.  My heart would ache and I would gather my little children around reminding them “Who is your REAL Father?”  “Who is your REAL Mother?”  They would repeat “Heavenly Father” and “Heavenly Mother”.  Put your trust in THEM.  They will never leave you and they know you perfectly.  I would then ask “Who is your oldest brother?”  They would repeat “Jesus”.

Dear Jesus…do I really know who you are?  My heart aches right now in such a way that I feel I need help to simply breathe.  My last prayer….God, please…give me wings.

My last prayer before leaving Texas…please Lord…I cannot do this on my own…please send me someone to hold me, to help me get through this…I cannot do this on my own…

So now I’ve met someone.  Mentioning this to family and friends was possibly a mistake, but I wanted to be honest right away.  By talking about my vulnerability, I was hoping for help. I was surprised by those who could relate and who have traveled similar paths.  A childhood friend brought me flowers, we cried together and she left leaving me with hope.  "You can do this!"  She said.  "I know you!"  With tears streaming down her beautiful face, she reminded me how much I was loved, how much God loved me and how the AtONEment is REAL. The contact information has been thrown away and the communication deleted...

Somehow, the conversation with the individual I had met, and the demonstration of compassion and love, gave me just enough strength.  I marched down to the court and found the information I needed to start the process.  Yes, I have 5 children. When asked if the abuse was to the children, I held back the tears and with my hand, pointed to my own heart.  The woman behind the glass connected to me in a way no other member of the church had done in the several years they had attempted to 'save me'.  Did she recognize me?  Did she know my family?  I'm not sure, but the love in her eyes showed me more than any words people could say with their mouths.  Her love was genuine.  I struggled to keep the tears from falling and a lump swelled in my throat. She gave me advice if I needed a protective order and how to fill out the information online.  I nodded my head to thank her, careful not to let the tears fall from my eyes.  I wanted to say "the abuse was completely out of character - it only happened once", but I was held in silence, captivated by the compassion in her eyes. There were cameras in the building…I wondered who else had heard.

A sigh of relief...

I was back in my home town. I knew I was safe and well cared for - even if I chose to be single. (The thought makes me cringe).  As I walked out to the car, I thought about some of my guy friends who were living in the area.  My husband would be on dangerous ground if the word got out. I smiled as I thought of our 5 generations of family who had lived in this area and the lifetimes of relationships that had been built.  I was definitely safe here.

By the way... it felt damn good telling the truth!

Watching my cute little blond-haired girls skip happily out to the car, I walked out of the building with a crazy mix of emotions.  I felt peace, but I also felt great pain. I could not hide from it anymore but now I had to live with it and face it.  Strangely, I felt an incredible peace.  But I was going on faith.  I hadn't yet discovered...more of the truth.

For some reason, I wanted to shout out to the world that I had been abused!  In High School, the farthest thing from my mind was wanting the abuse to be known.  Having people know of the abuse was worse than receiving it.  Yet now I wanted to call up everyone I knew, I wanted to report it to the police, yet telling the truth would forever change things...

In one crazy instance…I was a battered wife…the ER Dr was a friend from college… wow, that was embarrassing.  "Tell me what happened..."  Looking at my college friend who had driven me to the hospital, she gave me the look with her eyes and pressed lips as if to say "tell him the truth". I looked back at my old friend who was now a Dr and hesitated...

My friend started the story..."It was her husband".  My heart sank as I looked up to the nurse and at the Dr.  The nurses head bowed and her eyes filled with tears.  My friend paused for a moment unsure of what to say.  "You know I have to report this," he said.  I nodded my head in agreement, fearful of what that would mean for our future.  I was grateful for his compassionate eyes and for a happy conversation focusing on discussing the place where I grew up and the people we knew in common.

How humiliating...

I did not want to be…”A Divorced Lady”…I felt like such a failure...

Reflecting back…

At first, I had distanced from my husband at work after hearing the audible unseen voice "it is enough". Then I distanced myself from him in church settings and extended family activities. I made every attempt to keep us together as a family as I traveled and taught (traveling in the RV together), but the feeling became more and more uncomfortable. It felt as if his spirit was biting on tinfoil, scratching his hands down the chalkboard, while no one but my spirit could feel or hear it...  I couldn't stand to be around it but couldn't logically explain why.  I did not yet know everything...

Telling the truth, I knew, would make people think I’m crazy.  I did hear that voice.

Three times.

It was calm and yet stern....it was a voice that said...

"It is enough"...  "It is enough"...  "It is enough"... That was several years ago.

Why would I be contemplating taking my children’s father away from them?  On the outside, everything looks fine…but on the inside…decay...is it worth saving...is it too far gone...

As my husband’s tears fell from his face and as the confessions came…the lies…I was surprised by my lack of emotion…I was dead inside…his face showed grief but he seemed to be justifying everything...?

Years prior, I had prayed to God to help me understand what was happening to me.  I love the Lord with all my heart…or did I?  Was life showing me I was really just an evil person…someone who didn't want to go to church?  Was I full of pride and void of true forgiveness?  I didn't understand...but God did, and he provided a way for me to stay active.  I'll never forget that first simple message I received from the opening song I heard while attending a Polynesian ward in Las Vegas, Nevada.  The opening hymn was in Tongan.  I understood only because I recognized the melody of the song..."Let the Holy Spirit Guide...It will testify of Truths".

Traveling and teaching helped me realize, yes, I could feel the spirit of the Lord.  Yes, I did recognize it in others.  Yes, I could feel the gentle promptings and confirmations that what I was doing was right. There were all kinds of little miracles along the way that whispered to me that I was on the right path. I could feel the Spirit of the Lord in the homes of others. Why was there so much confusion in my own home?

The blessing I received from a dear friend's husband before going to the ER said: "Trust Yourself".  This message was repeated over and over and over.  For the first time in years, I began listening...the truth was ugly to feel...by avoiding living in my home town, avoiding church, avoiding the scriptures...I was avoiding what God was telling me to do...I was avoiding feeling the reality...the reality was not something I wanted to accept.  The reality was not something I wanted for my future.  So I kept going and going and going not allowing myself to bend my knees, to pray and to accept the reality for what it was.  There was a reason the Spirit of the Lord was not there. I did not want to face that reality and so I too, in my own way, lived without it.

Looking back now, with what I know as of a couple days ago, it all makes sense.  My spirit knew what my mind could not comprehend.

I wasn’t crazy after all.  In a dream, I had several years ago, I was pulling my 5 children in the back of a pioneer handcart, alone, through the night. It was winter. The mountain was steep and the snow was deep. My kids were warm and safe and happy under the homemade blanket in the handcart.  They had food and warmth, but my hands and feet were nearly frozen.  In my dream, I had pulled and pulled the handcart as far as I could.  I had somehow fainted in my dream and when I awoke I also awoke.  I identified with that feeling…the feeling of being nearly dead, cold, and...alone in the dark. I closed my eyes as I felt the prick of the snowflakes falling onto my face in my dream.  I wanted to give in to that feeling of death.  As I chose life, I opened my eyes to see the stars.  The dream felt so real. I could sense the slow rhythm of my heart…tears fell from my face in my dream and onto my pillow as I gazed into the cold night sky.  “Where the hell is  ______,” I thought.  The picture I saw was of him having fun.  He was with the guys and they were hunting...I closed my eyes as I rationalized... "he needs to work to feed the family".

I ask that question a lot.  “Where the HELL is he?”

________ Wow.  That one definitely surprised me.  I did not expect that answer!

_________________________.  Wow.  That surprised me also.  I shook my head in disbelief...

_______________________________________________________ Hummm, I had wondered about that and had asked but the answer had always been “No”.

Somehow my heart knew the truth when my head couldn't accept it.

So what’s the big deal?  So he ____________ and _____________!  So what!  Doesn’t every non-Mormon man do that?  The man I recently met… he asked me to help coach him to stop _________ and ____________ and probably needs help with ______________________ but without the love for my kids and same religious faith, wouldn't I trade one issue for the same issue multiplied?

I’ve called out for help from friends in years past.  I’ve felt naked, abused and in need for so long. When old friends hug me and say I look the same as in high school I joke back that I've lost my funny.  I use to laugh and smile a lot.  I haven't been that way for a very long time.

Does a woman really need a man to love her and hold her and help her to feel safe and protected?  I've distanced myself from having any friendships with men for a reason.  My Dad isn't here any more.  My step-father is definitely not a confidant. My cousin, my best friend…he wasn’t there for me when I needed him most.  I wanted so badly to be held.  I wanted to cry.  I needed someone like him (who I thought loved me and knew the real me) to listen to me and try to help me make sense of everything. But how could anyone understand...I didn't even understand things myself.  It was my crazy dreams and not being able 'to feel the spirit of the Lord in our relationship' and feeling 'emotionally abandoned and empty' that was so troubling to me.

I spent many days at the beach as I struggled to detox my body of the desire to die...looking back at my life, I am certain I will look back on these last troubling years of my life and I will see only one set of footprints in the sand...

I reached out to a trusted friend…”I wouldn't talk about that if I were you” was the answer.

So many people were concerned for me and I am grateful for their kindness but how could I explain...

It all makes so much sense now, but looking back I realize I could not have understood...

I will be able to help others in similar situations see the truth for what it is.  Emotional abandonment is real...and it IS deadly...

A spouse cannot meet their own desires thinking they are not hurting anyone but themselves.

I reached out to my family…

Generic Christian answers... "forgive", "serve", "love".

I reached out to my Mom…

"You have 5 children” …end of story.  Repeat.  Repeat.  Repeat…

I began desiring death and my body responded.

My mentor told me with tears streaming down her face...I don't know why, but I think you need to start taking Frankincense Essential Oil, morning and night.  The life saving essential oil Frankincense. God in a bottle.  She shared how it would heal the heart of things we cannot understand.

Again I would pray...“Please Father…give me the desire to live”.  A story too familiar...

As I taught people about essential oils, I was using them to save my own life.  Frankincense oil gave me the desire to live, and Melissa essential oil brought me present.

My travels brought me to Texas frequently. My 'sister's' there literally saved me.  They gave me hope.  They saw the Steffanie that I thought was no longer there.  There are no words to describe the depth of gratitude.  'God sends' - each and every one of them.  I love them so much.

Since the time of the recent physical abuse I had felt myself shutting off .. I reached out to only the most trusted friends I had from my childhood...

I feel bruised and broken and alone.  My heart ached and I thirsted for water.

God “please send someone to help me” was my prayer…

“Are you living some fantasy with someone you met _______” was Granddad’s last words to me.

"Yes, Granddad,"  I said,  "I am glad I met him."  It is only when I told ______ that I had met someone, had the information to file for divorce that the TRUTH finally came out. I had asked my husband bluntly…”I need to know why I cannot feel the spirit with you”.  “I need to know why I have not felt it in our marriage - ever, and I need to know now or I WILL divorce you” ... finally, he knew I was serious.  I was no longer believing the lies.  I wanted the truth!

The truth came out.

Now, I am in a very vulnerable situation.  I feel fear that if I don't end things, I’m the one who will be the harlot.  I am the one who will be the adulteress.  I am the one who will be looked at with shame.  I am the one who… if I make that one choice.  It has been 12 long years...

I need wings.

A great gulf of misery is inches away from me and I just want to jump in to experience the rush.

Shambles.

Heartache.

Bitterness.

Disbelief.

Apathy.

Sorrow.

Unfriendly.

Isolated.

There is a spark of light.  A friend reminded me of who I am.  “YOU are Incredible,” she said.  “Look at all you have overcome in your life”.  “I have always looked up to you because YOU were the strength in your family”.

Tears fall freely…

I do not feel like being the strong one now.  I feel like the Jew who has been injured by her own people.  I feel naked and alone.  People I loved have walked past, seeing me in the troubled state.  I've seen the judgment, too busy...too busy...disappointed that I am not serving like they are...

Who is my Samaritan?  Someone who will dress my wounds, carry me to a safe place and pay the innkeeper to watch over me and help me heal who is viewed as a sinner but someone who the Lord loves?

Grateful.

Compassion.

I could never judge an adulteress, a harlot, or someone divorced.

Who will I become?

“He who puts his wife away…causes her to commit adultery”.

I understand…

Oh, how I understand…

I have only crossed that path with my thoughts...just recently...

The need to be held, to be loved…the need to be guided by the spirit.  If I fall, I will lose that Spirit I desire so much to have in my life.

I know what it feels like to be a shadow….following, obedient, serving, ever-present…

My husband has lost his shadow…

Now it is time for me to choose…

The words, of a wise woman from Africa, echo in my mind…”There is ALWAYS a better way”.

 Love,


Steffanie