Caren McLane has a Bachelor’s and Master’s Degree in Community Health Education from BYU. She met her husband, Todd, in her freshman year while at BYU. They are the parents of 5 children and live on a 4-acre “hobby farm” with chickens, cows, and dogs. She volunteers at the library and hospice and has blogged since 2014. Caren has served in a variety of callings in the Church and is currently serving as a JustServe coordinator.
Enter Caron…
My dear friend and I have a weekly walk/lunch/movie date; we just saunter around the neighborhood for a bit, make sandwiches, and plop ourselves in front of tv for a couple hours on top of whatever we do together as couples on the weekends. We both have plenty to keep us busy, but we just decided to make this our time to see each other. When we had our little kids we would meet at the mall at 6 and walk. For years. But then she went to work, and we had less time together. Now that she’s retired, it’s been so fun to enjoy our flexibility and to take a little break right in the middle of our lives. We each have our lists of movies that we think would be fun to watch together. We have similar tastes for the most part, and I’ve loved everything we’ve watched together. So yesterday it was her turn to pick; she told me the ones she’d sifted through with a little description of each of them, and she mentioned that she made sure none of them was rated R. I sighed out loud, awwww. I couldn’t believe she would be that sensitive and thoughtful. And to be honest, I’m not completely sure what I think about our American rating system, but I told her as a youth leader, I just never want the kids to see me doing something their parents wouldn’t want them to do. I was so very touched by her kindness, truly. That was the sweetest gesture.
But I’m not sure I do the same for her or other friends and relatives who see life a little differently than I do. I want to be that same kind of thoughtful friend she is to me; all I can say is I’m trying.
Deeply Supportive Friendships
I’ve been asked how we maintain friendships with people who have left the church. And while I have ideas, I also have no idea what the real answer is. I’m not sure I’m getting any of it right. But I can tell you that my sister and my best friend are the dream. They are so supportive, so loving, and so accepting. They attend religious milestones for members of our family. They ask about our church activities and mutual friends. They know what we believe in, and they show so much respect as they make the effort to strengthen our relationships.
I hope they feel comfortable with us as well. We have the house and cabin stocked with coffee/tea. We have a coffee pot and tea kettle. We ask about new tattoos. We go to their churches. We drink our soda and water alongside their drinks. We don’t care one bit about any of it. Because we care so very, very much about them.
Complicated Belief Systems
I often feel as if I’m riding my huge yoga ball, trying to stay true to what I believe and learn more while at the same time acknowledging and embracing my friends’ various thoughts, hurts, and beliefs. I feel so strongly about my Savior and His teachings; He means everything to me and I want to talk about Him all the time; I feel it’s so important to share that. But I also want my friends to know that just because that’s my vision and paradigm, I absolutely get it that not everyone feels the same or anywhere close.
I actually think everyone has a complicated belief system. My friends who have left are all over the place. Some don’t believe in God anymore while others still believe in Jesus and love his teachings but don’t want anything to do with “Mormonism” and have some very strong and upset feelings, which I totally get. But people within the church are also all over the place; ask anyone in it what they think about the Sabbath Day and what they feel is appropriate to do, what they think about garments and when and how they should be worn, how they should pay tithing and on what, or what callings they’d be willing to accept and you’d get a million different answers. Whether we’re actively engaged in this particular church, adamantly opposed to it, in another church, neutral, agnostic, or atheist, my overarching hope is that we can just be ourselves. And hopefully friends.
Just last week I felt hurt a couple of times over this. A young person I’d shared a heartfelt religious discussion with over Christmas acted as if we were strangers when I came to her line she was working; in fact, she was a little hasty and short with me. Another rejected my offer to be friends online. Which is all fine, heaven knows I’m not the right fit for everyone. Maybe our religious differences play into it. Maybe I’m too much. I don’t know because we haven’t talked about it, but I have, of course, wondered what went wrong, where did I mess up, and why does religion have to be a thing?
Opportunities to Expand
I wish it didn’t have to be so touchy, but religion is an emotional issue. We can see it as the obvious catalyst behind many wars and contentions between countries, family members, friends, and even strangers. But I don’t think it has to be so controversial and so divisive. We’re simply seeing the world and interpreting it through different lenses based on our personalities and life experiences. There’s no harm in that, there’s no reason we can’t accept, allow, and welcome that in our relationships.
In my mind, it is naturally easier when we’re socializing with like-minded people, whether we’re talking about school board issues, political candidates, athletics, books, or religion. Of course. Because you don’t have to check yourself, you can just say whatever you think and not have to worry how it comes across because everyone else at the table feels the same way. Easier, yes. But better? How much do we learn, stretch, think, sympathize, question, ponder, or change when we stick with people, mindsets, and situations that are simply an extension of ourselves?
This is precisely why I insist on trying to go beyond what’s comfortable. While it’s a little scary, I really don’t want to remain where it’s simply safe and easy. I want to stretch; I want to hear another perspective—lots of perspectives. I want to know what I don’t know. I want to hear what my friends and others are thinking, going though, experiencing, questioning, believing or not believing. I know honesty and openness can be risky and intimidating, I feel that very poignantly. But so is everything worthwhile in life: friendship, marriage, parenting, accepting a new job, trying a new hobby. It’s investment. We put in a little effort and hope for the best. Successful people aren’t content to stay the same. They push themselves into the unknown and take a chance. And I can’t think of anywhere that matters more than in relationships.
Finding Common Ground
I’m like you. I have many family members and friends who don’t believe the same as I do, and I don’t see the world exactly as they do. And I don’t know what the right formula is for navigating all this is, but I feel like my relationships with these loved ones are just getting stronger and closer. Many of them are familiar with the church and its culture because most of them grew up in it or have been around it. I love that we can talk about it in general terms because they obviously know the structure and many of the same people as I do; we actually laugh about our funny culture a lot too. But most of my friends and I don’t talk about actual doctrinal differences we have unless we’re one on one and it comes up. I love listening to them, truly love it. But I never want to push religion. Maybe it’s wrong, but as the one who is still in it, I want to defer to them and their comfort level. And maybe that really is wrong. Maybe I should be asking more questions and bringing it up. And yet I never want them to think religion needs to be part of our friendship equation. See? I have no idea.
It makes me so sad and a little irritated when people who have loved ones leave say they don’t have anything in common or to talk about anymore. And yet I of course get it, I see what they’re saying; I just don’t feel the same. Our particular religion is pretty consuming; it infiltrates nearly every aspect of our lives and plays into so many of our decisions, yes. But there is a whole world around us to share. Just because our religious beliefs tend to be a very large presence in our lives, we are still living in a very complex, beautiful, enriching, expansive time and world. There is so very much to bind us together, to share, to talk about, and to experience with one another. Let’s talk about trips we want to take, where we’ve lived, our hobbies, shows, books, articles, podcasts, passions, health trends, heartaches, parenting, disappointments, our upcoming graduations, being empty nesters, going back to school, retirement, our aging bodies, dreams, projects, kids, sports, music, concerts, recipes, school, jobs, grandkids, our pasts, our aspirations… goodness! Just like politics doesn’t have to come up, neither does religion. And yet, if you’re that kind of friend or family, think how enriching it could be if we did allow for and expected and engaged in respectful and reciprocal sharing.
An Open Mind and Heart
I just refuse to believe our differences—whatever they are in life—should become labels. We’re seeing how detrimental and upsetting this has been in our current culture, and it’s no good. I vote we shun anything or anyone who tries to make us adhere to such one dimensional tags; we are more than church goers or avoiders, more than our political leanings, more than where we live, work, or visit, more than our upbringings and more than what people think they see. We’re multi-faceted, fascinating, evolving, and emotional beings. We have so much to experience and enjoy and learn during our short time on earth, and I would a million times rather do it all with an open mind and heart surrounded by people I love. I long for a world and a life where we are more than our differences. I just want to be friends.
