



I moved into Brook's neighborhood five years ago, right after my divorce. Since I was in survival mode, the details of that first year are a little blurry but Brook stood out from everyone else. She was one of my oldest daughter's Young Women's leaders. My daughter didn't want anything to do with our new ward really. She missed our old neighborhood and her old friends and being shy and introverted didn't help either. But the one person she felt comfortable with was Sister Andreoli. Brook took special care with my daughter at a time when she was extremely vulnerable and I will always, always be grateful for that. She would bring her books to read and talk to her about her poems and encourage her to write and paint. Brook was the embodiment of Christ-like love as she showered my daughter with acceptance and kindness. There were times Brook would come by to drop something off for my daughter and we'd stand on the porch and chat and afterwards, I'd always come away from our conversations feeling strengthened and inspired. Brook has that affect on people. Through the next few years as I got to know Brook better, I knew she was a kindred spirit. Someone who had been through the flames but had come out refined and more powerful. One day I got home and found a beautiful painting waiting for me. This painting was my favorite painting but I hadn't been able to afford to buy it. I remember going to Deseret Book and buying the the little 5X7 print and putting it on the fridge, so receiving this gorgeous framed picture, the one I've always wanted, was a huge hug from Heaven. Of course it was a gift from Brook. Why? It wasn't my birthday. It wasn't Christmas. It was just Brook following a prompting. She told me she just knew she had to buy it for me. Brook has been God's hands for me and my family countless times. I'm so grateful to know her and to have been blessed by her kindness and her example. Matthew 25:35/40 "For I was an hungered and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me....Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."

When I was thinking about what I wanted to share about Shannon, I thought of specific conversations on her porch that would be the definition of "wholehearted" from Brene Brown's work. Shannon was the epitome of vulnerability, compassion, courage, and connection. I also remember Savannah bringing me flower when Steven passed away, and Shannon bringing a book about Grief. She was one of the few people that I felt like "got it" and could sit in that space with me. I realize fully what gifts these are, and perhaps against my will, I see that these gifts are often grown in the furnace of adversity. Last month, I realized that the over-arching goal in my own life is to live in a space of wholeheartedness--so this is really the highest compliment I could give to Shannon. I am amazed at the choices that Shannon has made--to continue in faith, hope and not let her circumstances turn her to bitterness and doubts. I am grateful that Shannon has shared her gifts here. A particular email came immediately to mind that Shannon wrote, encouraging me to share my writing more widely. The email is written to me, but I think each of you can see the courage, resilience, and charge that Shannon exudes, because she lived the things she was encouraging me to do and I think each of us, as readers, can benefit from the cheerleading and encouragement this email brings, in whatever ways we have been gifted.
You received a prompting to share something. Brook, if the spirit is telling you to put yourself out there. Girl - you put yourself out there. As painful as it is, there's a reason why God gave you this gift. And honey, you have a gift. Your blogs are so raw and brutally honest and yet so gorgeous in the cadence and the way you word things. I'm in awe. This is in no way a compliment because you're my friend. It's just me being honest.
We don't get these gifts by chance. There are eternal reasons for them I believe. I look on it as a mission. You were given this gift because you have the ability to reach out to others and express what they can't. People need that. Desperately. I blogged a ton last year thinking maybe that was what I was supposed to do to support my family. It was hard. Some of my blogs, I just scraped the top. But the blogs I pulled out of my soul, those were the ones that resonated with people the most and I got the most feedback on. Writing, art, music, poetry - none of it matters unless it's truth. So digging deep is the only way to make something beautiful. But it makes you vulnerable too.
With me in my writing now, it's not about me anymore. It can't be. I have 6 people whose very lives depend on me for everything. House, food, etc. etc. I can't waste even a minute caring anymore what anyone thinks about my writing and I have to say that's been the most freeing thing that's ever happened to me. I can't afford to care. However, the process is still the same. I might be typing my guts out every month, but I'm still pulling from my soul as honestly as I can. So I guess my advice to you would be, take yourself out of the equation. When you write, write for your children who will someday need to hear those words. Write for the woman you don't even know who will need to hear your words to make it through one more day. Write for God. Pull yourself out and then hook into the spirit and let it all hang out.
Excruciating - I know. And God knows that too. But we're here to learn, to grow and I think to be brave. I have 6 beautiful reasons to be brave, but I remember what it was like when it was just me and all those nameless faces sitting in judgement. And I've realized that the only reader that really matters, is God. :) So I hope you allow everyone to see your blogs. And everyone here knows you and loves you. You're going to feel like you're walking around naked for awhile, but that wears off after awhile, when you feel God walking with you. You know that song, Brave?
http://youtu.be/QUQsqBqxoR4 . Picture your world as beautiful,and a place where you can be the real you, and then picture God looking down from Heaven and smiling because you're fulfilling the measure of your creation. And then do it
Find Shannon's books here or buy her Fircrest Romance books here (half of all of the proceeds go to support Operation Underground Railroad) and I also love this post about Shannon's writing romance and her real world romance. This is indeed alchemy in the works right here: using difficult experiences and incredible talents to benefit others. I am so proud of you Shannon.
Cliff Jumping
By Shannon Thorpe
I had one goal when it came to marriage: marry someone normal. That was it really. Being raised in a dysfunctional family does weird things to people, but what we crave most is normality. Boring, everyday, normal. When I met my husband and found out his father had been a bishop and his mother had been a Relief Society president, I was in love. Finally, at long last, I would get my chance to be normal.
Sadly, that dream died within five months of marriage when I realized my husband was a porn addict. Finding this out, broke my heart and shattered a lot of perceptions of what I thought my new and shiny life would be like. I had to come to terms with the fact that my life was never going to be normal. It wasn’t even going to come close.
When you’re married to a porn addict, you live life in a constant cycle. First: He’s addicted and acting out and life is dark and for the most part, miserable. You get used to being ignored, because to be blunt, you’re not good enough, and you’re just in the way of the addiction. Then comes part two. He gets caught (again). He’s so sorry and he’ll never do it again. He’s so sincere and remorseful, that of course you believe him. Many trips to the bishop’s office and boom, he’s a new man. Or is he? We then start part three, he stops. Picture an alcoholic who’s white knuckling it. This can be pretty tense too. Angry outbursts, and guilt trips. I’ve heard, “If you’d just been a better wife, I wouldn’t have to do this,” more times than I can count. I was even told this by a well meaning Bishop once. I’m glad that even then, I didn’t believe that.
But if the repentance is real, and some times it is, then we experience something I like to call semi-normal. This is where I cross my fingers and pray like crazy that he can stay strong. Because when he’s being strong, and humble and partaking of the atonement, life was actually pretty good. A little broken, a little bruised, but so close to normal I was in heaven.
I was married for 17 and a half years when I realized we were restarting the cycle again. But this time was different. This time, I didn’t have feelings of peace that everything would eventually be okay. This time, I had feelings that I needed to take my kids and leave. As I pushed the feelings aside, I began having dreams urging me to go as well.
The only problem was I loved my façade of normal. People at church looked at my cute little family and thought we were normal. No one knew how messed up my marriage was. If I divorced my husband my kids would struggle; everyone knows the statistics. Life would be unstable and I’d done everything in my power to give my kids what I never had. Normal, boring bliss. How could I take something so precious away from them?
During this time, I was serving in the Young Women’s. I was teaching the Laurels every Sunday how to be faithful, good women who would someday be awesome wives who were married in the temple. How in the world could someone who was contemplating divorce, teach impressionable young girls about forever families?
I went to the temple over and over again and each time I got the same answer. Leave. Leave now. I happen to know what happens when you ignore the spirit: really bad stuff. Trust me on this. So I bit the bullet and told my husband that I wanted a divorce. I’ve never seen anyone so shocked in my life. I’d forgiven him so many times, why wouldn’t I just forgive him again? That’s all he needed, just one more chance and he’d never do it again.
We went to the Bishop soon after my announcement and he immediately sent us to marriage therapy. But when the therapist turned to my husband and told him he needed to respect me and let me go, it set in. This was real. I was going to leave my husband. I have to admit I was terrified. We put the house up for sale and contacted mediators to help us with the divorce process. I was living my own worst nightmare.
During this time, my husband turned into my enemy. He did everything he could to hurt me. He took control of all the money and only gave me enough to pay the mortgage. He told me to figure out how to pay for everything else. He thought I should experience what being a single mom was going to be like if that’s what I wanted so much. It took nine very long months to sell the house while he refused to move out. But worst of all, he latched onto my oldest daughter and poured all of his anger and negativity into my sensitive little girl.
I could see the damage he was doing to her and felt helpless to stop it. The day I moved out, leaving almost everything behind, was one of the best days of my life. The relief was so intense, I felt like floating.
And then the games started. My soon to be ex, refused to sign off on the funding on the sale of our home and also refused to sign the divorce papers, which meant he didn’t legally have to do anything. I was stuck. I was in a new house with no way to pay the rent or feed my six children because I’d maxed out all of my credit cards paying all of our bills for the last nine months.
I remember it was October of 2011 and it was conference weekend. I was desperate and going crazy. I kneeled down and begged Heavenly Father to help me. I told Him that I had followed the spirit and done everything I could to be obedient to His promptings. In return, I needed one little miracle.
The prompting came immediately that I needed to offer my ex a building lot that we co-owned in exchange for his signing the divorce papers. This lot was a big chunk of change but I knew it meant nothing in comparison to my freedom. So I texted my ex that afternoon and he promptly responded that he’d take the deal.
During the next three years, life was not easy. Not even close. Being the single mom to six kids is never easy, but it’s especially hard when you’re scraping by. I had an ex whose biggest joy in life was causing me problems and bad mouthing me to friends, acquaintances and especially, our children. I remember walking through Walmart and seeing a woman I had served with in Young Women’s and as I smiled in greeting, excited to catch up, she lifted her chin and turned her eyes away from me as if she didn’t know me. I stood there in shock and pain and wondered how my friends could believe blatant lies about me so easily.
Being divorced was one of the most humbling things I’ve ever experienced. I’ve never been judged so easily, and so wrongly by so many people. It’s not easy being divorced in the LDS church. You need thick skin and the ability to rise above the careless cruelty of well-meaning yet judgmental people. There were times I didn’t rise as high as I should. During this time, I had three good friends who stuck by me loyally and were angels to me and my kids and I will be forever grateful for them.
One of the biggest trials I experienced while being a single mom was my oldest daughter’s eating disorder. Out of all of my children, she was the one affected the most by her father’s choice to pour all of his emotions into a young girl who had no idea how to cope with it. She turned from a beautiful, confident, happy girl, into an angry, miserable, anxiety ridden young woman, who would cut herself and starve herself in a desire to ease her pain.
I was blessed to be able to get her help at the Center for Change and the therapists there were able to undo a lot of the damage her father had done. To this day, I still look down at the scars on her arms and want to cry. Seeing your children hurt, breaks our hearts a million times worse than any pain we experience ourselves.
But through all the financial problems, emotional problems and battles with my ex, I could feel God with me. Even then, sometimes I wondered, why? Why, if Heavenly Father wanted me to leave my ex, why did life have to be so hard? Why did my daughter have to suffer? Shouldn’t this have been just a little bit easier?
The answer finally came one day as I was reading in First Nephi, chapter 18. Here, Nephi was doing everything right. He’d built that boat against all odds, he’d done everything right but his brothers wanted to hurt him and they bound him with cords and no amount of begging could soften Laman and Lemuel’s hearts. And then I read this:
“…they did treat me with much harshness; nevertheless, the Lord did suffer it that he might show forth his power, …” 1 Nephi Ch. 18 Verse 11
“Nevertheless, I did look unto my God and I did praise him all the day long; and I did not murmur against the Lord because of mine afflictions.” 1 Nephi Ch. 18 Verse 16.
After reading that chapter, I felt peace about my trials. Just because we’re doing what’s right, doesn’t mean it will be easy. It’s going to be hard, but the feeling of having God with you – that’s what gives you the strength to endure and endure it well. You really can have peace in the midst of the storms.
It was during this time, that I came to the end of my financial rope. I either had to go to work and leave my kids so I could pay the bills, or I had to find a way to work from home. The only marketable skill I had was writing. I’d written about 9 or so books for the LDS market at that point and knew very well that I couldn’t support a family of 7 by writing. It just wasn’t done. But when I prayed about it, I knew that that’s exactly what God wanted me to do.
I felt like Nephi being told to build a boat. Impossible! But I also knew that if God was with me, I could do it. 1 Nephi, 17:50 “If God had commanded me to do all things, I could do them.” So I followed my promptings and went to work. It turns out God loves doing the impossible. (At least in my opinion.)
I wrote day and night. I wrote every spare chance I had. I put out e-books about once a month, and miracle of miracles, I was able to put food on the table and pay my bills and I didn’t have to leave my children to do it.
I have never felt so loved as I did when I realized God was taking care of me. When I received the prompting to leave my ex, it felt like God was asking me to take my children in my arms and jump off a cliff. I have always craved stability and normal and God was asking me to give all that up and trust Him.
Well, I did and I have come to find that God has very strong arms. He can catch us. He caught me and I have never regretted following the promptings I received.
It’s been over five years since my divorce and I am now currently re-married, (blissfully so) and I have so many blessings that I can’t even fathom why God would be so kind to me. When I look back on that little girl from the dysfunctional family who only wanted to be happy and normal, I’d like to take her aside and tell her normal isn’t that great. Peace though, peace is wonderful. Faith and obedience bring something far greater than stability. They bring something called joy.
I’m grateful for all of my trials and experiences. Without them, I wouldn’t be who I am. Who am I? I’m a cliff jumper, a mom, a cherished wife and a very loved daughter of God.