I've always loved the gospel of Jesus Christ. Growing up in an active LDS family, I doubt that I ever missed church three weeks in a row. I raised my children the same way--we went to church no matter the weather! And it wasn't hard. I loved church--I still do.

But when I was single, things seemed different. Not because of how others treated me. Actually, if I'm honest with myself, a lot of people went out of their way to speak to me, reach out to me, and support me in any way they felt they could. As a matter of fact, I remember thinking that when news of my divorce got around, my ward members literally swept me up in a spirit of loving kindness. There was no shortage of attention and heartfelt support.

But attending my Sunday meetings was hard. Walking, alone, into any group of people requires an inordinate amount of vim and confidence, (unless you're a seasoned politician, I suppose, well-practiced at walking slowly through a crowd...). But walking into church, after my divorce, was especially difficult. Maybe I felt like a brown pair of shoes in a sea of tenny-runners--I don't know. Something didn't feel right and--for the first time in my life--it made attending my Sunday meetings something I didn't look forward to.

But I kept going, though I never did feel 100% comfortable.

Looking back I realize that doing the right thing, when it wasn't easy, amounted to one more test in a series of character shaping exercises called 'mortality'. Just because the curve ball of divorce happened for me didn't exempt me from the ebb and flow of life's learning lessons. And I passed the test; I stayed active.

And now, years later, I take pride in navigating that narrow passage. It strengethened me and allowed me to know for myself that married or not, comfortable or not, I could still follow my convictions and live the gospel precepts I'd always espoused.

After all, it's not about doing the right thing when everything is right in your life, it's about doing the right thing. Period.