This weekend I attended the LDS church while on a visit to Utah. It was my first time attending a Sacrament Meeting in well over five years. It was my first time taking the sacrament (communion) in much longer than that (because even long before I stopped attending the Mormon church, I couldn’t stomach the symbols of that ordinance). It wasn’t an earth-shaking experience in any way. In fact, it was just the opposite. The hymns were familiar and I sang them with some gusto (much to the chagrin of my seatmates, I’m sure–I do not have a pretty voice). Shaking the Bishop’s hand and meeting the local saints was endearing. I felt no friction in any of those experiences.
That said, I have no intention of returning to activity in the LDS church. But it was nice to know that I could attend and it could be a benign, rather than a frustrating experience. Perhaps that means that I am finally healing from the wounds incurred by my natal faith, and am comfortable with where I’m at now in my life.