Quitting

I just had a really rough day.

I think that people should stop making posters that read, Don’t Quit. It seems to me that the only person who should actually practice such a mantra is the person without a vice. I know, I know, the posters that say “Don’t Quit” are only talking about not quitting worthy stuff, but isn’t that the real question? What is worthy of perseverance? What are the things worth not quitting?

Some of the best advice I have ever been given was to quit. Quit holding onto a toxic relationship, quit trying to make everything okay, quit enduring unnecessary suffering, quit that job, quit that class, quit, quit, quit. Frankly, surprised that Don’t Quit has lasted as long as it has.

Over a year ago, I began a religious journey. I wanted very much to do God’s will, so I made myself very open to His influence. I couldn’t get enough. Before I knew it, I had a ritual that consisted of Catholic Mass on Saturday nights, the Lutheran Church on Sunday from 8 to 9, and then LDS Services from 9 to 12. The Baptists were on Wednesday nights, and I went to Mosque sporadically throughout the week. All of that worshiping was really good for me. Since I was trying very hard to do what God wanted, and had no qualms about opening every door of opportunity.

On December 31, 2007, I left the LDS congregation that I had attended for over five years and started attending elsewhere. Today, exactly eight months later, I went back to the old LDS congregation. It took about three minutes before the revelation came. God wanted me back there, and He didn’t want me any place else. I resisted it for the next few hours, but I had to give in. God can be pretty persuasive.

I got together my collection of literature from my other religions and put them in my car. It was time to return them. Not wanting to, but feeling compelled, I went through a heart-wrenching ritual of abandonment. I prostrated myself before the cross in the Lutheran sanctuary and recalled what it means to receive the grace of Christ. I wanted to hear Pastor Scott’s upcoming treatises on finding peace. Instead, I quit. I gazed upon the humble Baptist chapel and remember what it means to be honest with God. I wanted to feel the magic of another revival. Instead, I quit. I genuflected, touched my head, heart, and shoulders, bowing before the tabernacle in the Catholic Cathedral, reflecting on what it means to be truly reverent. I wanted to feel Father Sandoval place his righteous hand to my forehead again. Instead, I quit. I made ablution, faced Mecca, recited fatiha, and prayed for Muslims everywhere. I had been counting down the days to the next Ramadan. Instead, I quit.

I know that what I did was right. Both going to these solaces from the world, and then leaving them again. But right isn’t the same as easy. I’m not sure how long it will take me to stop practicing my person mixture of Catholic/Lutheran/Baptist/Muslim rituals. Right now, I feel like heart-broken freshman who just lost her first love. I want to put on Islam’s letterman’s jacket and just smell its smells. I want to pull out all of the love notes that the St. Thomas Aquinas Catholic Church wrote to me, and sigh as I read them. I want to park my car next to The Grace Baptist Church’s house for hours just to catch it as it is walking out to its car. I want to play the Mix Tape that the Lutheran Church gave me on our fourth date. I had seen us growing old together. I had seen us raising a family. We were going to be together forever. Not any more.

I hope I never allow myself to become the sophomore that becomes convinced that my first love was “no good for me anyway.” I loved these other faiths. They were so kind and inspiring to me. I hope that I can look back on them with the same fondness as my first love note, my first date, my first hand-holding, and my first kiss. I don’t know why God wanted me to quit, but only today do I know why He asked me to start in the first place.

It is good to love.