General Conference Reflections and My Hope for an Answer

Facebook, Twitter and Instagram feeds are filling up with quotes and memes from easily recognizable men in suits and ties. This can only mean one thing: General Conference time has rolled around again. I am unsure of the outcome of this conference as it is the first conference since the LGBT policy came out. I have a friend who is a Mormon gay, and I worry for them and how they will feel this coming conference if any reference is made to the revelation claimed to have been received. In addition, this is the first conference since I started researching into the history of Joseph Smith, the Church, Joseph's seer stones, the book of Abraham, the Kinderhook Plates and even the Old Testament. I am, frankly, terrified that the research that I have conducted will tint my glasses an even deeper shade of rose. Enough so that I cannot see through my bias to the good things that are being taught. This has already occurred during the women's conference last Saturday.

I am at the point where I am seriously doubting the validity of the "restored" Church. I am doubting the validity of the Church's leadership and structure. How could God allow so many prophets to lead the Church astray from the teachings of His Son? Brigham Young was, indeed, a nasty surprise. I have not even scratched the surface into any other modern prophets, yet the few things that I did find were especially horrific to me. Because of this, I am uncertain of whether I want to sustain these men to be the leaders of our Church. It doesn't help that I am watching conference tomorrow with a group of people who are clueless to my struggles. Do I keep up with appearances knowing that I may be lying to myself, or do I excuse myself while the sustaining commences?

Regardless of my doubts, I have approached this weekend with a spirit of prayer and fasting. I have a few questions in mind that I hope will be answered in the talks given. I have prayed on my way to school. I have prayed on my way to work. I have prayed on my way home during rush hour (even asking for patience to deal with some idiots...). I have prayed while I was exercising at the gym. Needless to say, my heart has been continuously crying out to my Lord and God and yet, I still have heard nothing.

This utter and complete silence has me wondering if this is a punishment of sorts for even questioning the validity of the Church. Am I too stubborn to hear the Holy Ghost and it's whispers? Am I too hard heartened to even consider listening to God when he does answer me? How do I know that He really is answering my prayers?

I get the occasional shiver when listening to music, or watching an inspirational movie, but is this the Spirit confirming something to me? I don't even know anymore.

I am lost and drowning in a sea of doubt, fear and suspicion.

I feel rather like Peter at this point. I have lost sight of the surface of the sea and I am slowly sinking further and further down. Is there a hand that is outstretched to me that I cannot or will not see?

As David said in reference to the Messiah's life in Psalms 22:

1 My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? why art thou so far from helping me, and from the words of my roaring?

 2 O my God, I cry in the daytime, but thou hearest not; and in the night season, and am not silent.

Oh how these words resound within my soul. Oh how much I ache for an answer to my prayers.