For many years, I've watched dozens of my friends -- and a few loved ones -- not only turn their backs on the church, but also the gospel of Jesus Christ and even Christianity itself.
Several were friends I could go out to lunch with, sit down and talk about profound, spiritual things. I'd share, they'd share, and we'd all come away from those lunches not only fatter, but also filled with a renewed determination to seek God and be better people. Now, those lunches are no more. And for someone like me, who has no opportunity to discuss such fantastic topics with extended family, I considered these friends to be like my extended family.
The reason I have spiritual cooties: I've stayed put in the revealed, restored latter-day gospel and church, while they have moved on to supposedly more spiritually enlightened endeavors.
I don't think I'm alone in this. Perhaps you, too, have lost a mom or dad, brother or sister, child or grandchild, spouse, relative or close friend to a competing church, quasi-church, movement, religion or gospel. If you haven't, then count yourself very, very lucky.
For years, I've prayed for understanding about this situation. Over time, it's come, incrementally. I've also prayed for hope. Lots of hope. Enormous amounts of hope, that these friends and loved ones will eventually see the light...and perhaps in the short term, be spared the worst of the latter-day calamities which will soon be on top of us.
And then, two days ago, I awoke from my sleep with six words in my head.
On that day and yesterday, I received three emails and one telephone call from friends who all felt prompted, for some unknown reason, to share something with me...never knowing that their inspired input actually aligned with my six words.
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