Where Culture and Doctrine Collide—The Cult of Positivity

"There is a truth deep down inside of you that has been waiting for you to discover it, and that truth is this: you deserve all good things life has to offer."

—The Secret

"Yea, blessed are they whose feet stand upon the land of Zion, who have obeyed my gospel; for they shall receive for their reward the good things of the earth,...And they shall also be crowned with blessings from above...."

—D&C 59:3-4

I have often heard it said that the best lies are 99% truth. It has been said of Satan that he leads us "carefully" down to hell. One of the things that culture teaches us is that we deserve. Advertisers make millions, maybe billions of dollars per year on teaching us that we deserve good things.

Taking it Personally

I was writing in my personal journal. When I finished, I realized there is something about my heart and mind right now that other people might need to hear. I try to be vulnerable here. It is easier, behind the protection of an online persona, to share the uglier parts of my personality. The difficult part of trying to serve God. My insecurities and doubts.

I know that distance makes it easier to hear, and not to worry about me. Because I'm ultimately all right. I've been through a refiner's fire, and I am stronger than a little sadness. But I find that allowing myself to be sad is a powerful thing. It helps me grow, keeps me humble, and gives other people a chance to feel safe and acceptable. Hiding the bad parts only makes us all feel like we can never measure up. So here it is:

A Name Blotted Out

Like everyone, I just heard of Kate Kelly's excommunication. I expected to feel somber at the news. I didn't expect the tears.

I do not agree with Sister Kelly's actions in any way. Yet, I had still hoped there would be a way for her to repent before excommunication happened. I imagine to myself what it would feel like to be cut off from the Church. That it would be devastating is without doubt. I imagine her family, her children, her husband and herself. This has to be a sobering experience.

While I would probably have chosen no differently, had I had to make that terrible decision, still it cuts me. I may not entirely understand it, but I mourn. I mourn any time I hear of someone leaving the Church for any reason. I wish that she had not felt that she had to give up her covenants in order to "be authentic."

I hope and pray that she finds a place in her heart to make those covenants again.

Some People Oppose Gay Marriage

There is a point at which argument is futile. When two sides of a disagreement are so firmly rooted in their own perceptions, and those perceptions are coming from intrinsically different structures, there is not enough common ground for discussion.

This is, perhaps, why I haven’t really addressed the gay marriage battles going on in the United States of America since they started. I have listened to both sides, found fault and good with both, and made my conclusions. And most of the time, when I try to share why I believe the way I do, I only invite attack.

I do wish to state, perhaps for my own benefit alone, that I do not support gay marriage. I used to, before I started blogging. Getting involved in blogs certainly catalyzed some of my change of mind. I’m sure there are many out there who discount my opinions because they assume they are solely religiously based, or because they come from a place of ignorance and fear. I can protest as much as I like, but I’m not likely to change the minds of people so unapologetically closed-minded. I’m not even going to bother.

There is much I could say about gaining respect for differing moral stances. The arguments for gay marriage are generally based on the moral structure of secularism, the arguments against gay marriage are generally based on a moral structure espoused by many religions of the world. I believe that “separation of Church and State” in our country was never meant to restrict moral opinions from the public sphere. In fact, I believe that creating a space where individuals can act according to their morality in a public sphere without fear of losing employment, housing, physical safety, the ability to reasonably conduct business according to their conscience, and relative peace in their private lives was a core point of our government.

And, like it or not, the bulk of efforts to remove that freedom from fear is coming from those who think secularly. Many believe that individuals should have no right to exercise religiously-based morality in a public sphere, but ought to be forced to behave according to secular morality.

I would fight—have fought—equally hard to defend a gay person’s right to behave according to their beliefs in a public sphere as I now defend my own. I would shop at a store owned by a gay person. I'm as likely to design a gay friend's wedding invitations as those for a straight friend, were one to ask me. But I believe that the right to behave a certain way is not the same as a right to be publicly supported for it.

Determination of the lines of law—deciding what the public should pay for, support, and condone by law—should only be legally determined by a slow and cautious approach to lawmaking, including ALL the branches of government. Rushing headlong, deliberately bypassing checks and balances in the legal system, will inevitably reap consequences in unexpected directions.

I am afraid, watching the way law is happening now. And even if you support gay marriage, you should be afraid, too. The rate at which individual freedom to act according to personal moral conscience is being denied is frightening. When legal paths have been opened, they are very difficult to close. Almost overnight, changes are being made that alter the way people are allowed to live their lives. Though that may work in your favor today, there are no guarantees for tomorrow.

I do not know if my feelings on gay marriage will soon rob me of my ability to act according to my conscience in my employment. My line of work makes me one of those who could easily be forced to participate in things I find reprehensible. I wish, even if gay marriage wins wholesale, that those of religious moral conscience will be able to win a space for themselves. Not only to protect religious institutions, but to protect religious people.

Make no mistake. This war is not just about gay marriage. It is much more fundamental than that. It is a war between religion and secularism, a clash of whether or not people will be allowed to act according to a religious source of morality. Whether or not their votes will be taken away. Whether or not they can choose to conduct their business as they believe they should. Whether or not they are allowed to raise their children in the faith they hold dear. Whether or not they are allowed to speak their hearts, or must remain silent for fear of dire consequence.

There are many voices of empty reassurance, claiming that such things could never happen. But they are already happening. People claimed that welfare for single moms wouldn't result in more single moms, that loosening divorce laws wouldn't result in more divorces. They are blind to the lessons of history, and ignorant to human nature.

Some rights cannot be granted without robbing the rights of another. You can't give the right to drink and drive without potentially robbing a drunk driver's victim of the right to life. You can't give gay people the right to demand the services they want from whom they want them without robbing the service provider of the right to sell their services to whomever they wish to sell them. There is always a price. Some ideals cannot be legislated without sacrificing other ideals.

I mourn for our country. Not because gay marriage is becoming legal, but because of the way that victory is being won and the intentions in the hearts of those who are winning it. Such desire to silence opposition exists everywhere, male and female, gay and straight, religious and secular, but when it is popular and celebrated—when it is in power—there is no one who will escape the price.

Yet, despite my sorrow for the sins of this world, I know in whom I trust. The Book of Mormon is now more than ever before an obvious warning to the righteous, a chance to prepare. We may be called to lay down our lives as so many before us have. But if we keep the love of God in our hearts even as the mobs mock and ridicule, we will have a rock of faith through the trials to come.

“O, ye nations of the earth, how often would I have gathered you together as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, but ye would not!

“How oft have I called upon you by the mouth of my servants, and by the ministering of angels, and by mine own voice, and by the voice of thunderings, and by the voice of lightnings, and by the voice of tempests, and by the voice of earthquakes, and great hailstorms, and by the voice of famines and pestilences of every kind, and by the great sound of a trump, and by the voice of judgment, and by the voice of mercy all the day long, and by the voice of glory and honor and the riches of eternal life, and would have saved you with an everlasting salvation, but ye would not!”
D&C 43:24-25

Beauty in Grief

Most of the time, we think of grief as losing a loved one. But loss of faith, a marriage, a hope or dream, or even a way of life can also shake our world to its very foundations.

Just this Sunday, I substituted for a Sunday School class to teach teenagers how following the commandments can help us be like Heavenly Father. Never before have I struggled with a topic the way I struggled with this one, and I didn't expect it. Not only did it tap into my understanding that I can never be like Heavenly Father, not really (since I'm a woman,) but it tapped into the biggest source of my grief. It is not my marriage that still haunts me, my fears and pain regarding that are long resolved. It isn't even my relationships afterwards to which my intermittent sorrow clings. It is that I have lost faith that "after much tribulation, cometh the blessings." Believing that has lost meaning. It is the things I have worked the hardest at that fail most spectacularly. I have struggled long and hard within myself and with the Lord to discover what I'm doing wrong, what I could do better, without answer. Whatever it might be, I am at a loss to change it.

Having a Hard Time

I've been thinking a lot about toxic people and negativity. If it isn't already obvious, I've had a really hard time the last five years. I've been that toxic person everyone tells you to stay away from.

I destroyed myself trying to become the wife my husband wanted me to be, dealing with having to abandon my child every day and work while watching our money vanish without knowing why. I found out my husband had a vasectomy after "trying" for several months to have another baby and fearing our failure was my fault. I subjugated all my hurt and insecurities in order to support him through our couple's counseling, thinking our marriage was getting better and healing, finding out his surgery worked and I was pregnant again, only to have it all blow up in my face beyond any redemption. I went through a divorce that completely undermined any shred of self-esteem I pretended to have.

I made a nuisance of myself to the few friends who would listen...until it got too much for them and I learned to shut myself up. I fought far beyond the limits of my own strength to preserve my faith, pretend to be strong for my children, stabilize my finances, deal with stress-related health issues during my pregnancy, try to heal from that, and finalize the divorce. Once I got through that, I had to navigate the leftover effects of fear, and the attempts at emotional onslaught through and to my children.

By a little over a year ago, it mostly settled out and I thought my efforts finally met some success and peace. But then my job went crazy, and I lost it, tried to take that loss and turn it into a chance to go back into my first field, discovered that wasn't possible, and found a (very good but not dream) job, where I have been ever since. I haven't even touched on the emotional turmoil I have gone through with trying to overcome my fear and open my heart to dating.

Now that I'm on the other side of all of it, it feels a little easier to forgive myself. It also seems impossible that most of that could have happened in only five years. No wonder the last year has found me almost completely without motivation to try with ANYTHING any more. There isn't one aspect of my life that hasn't been a fight.

Listing it like that shows me the amazing protection I have had from my Father in Heaven, the support I have had from my mom and a couple of friends, and my inner strength that I can't see when I just look at today. I am very aware of how much of a burden I have been to people in my life, how events and my struggles have left me largely stripped of all close friends but my parents, and how my normally slightly cynical but ultimately optimistic personality has really taken a beating.

It has also given me perspective to reanalyze everything I believe about God, and my relationship with Him and His children.

Beautiful Sorrow

In the mornings and throughout my day, my Facebook is filled with people posting "uplifting" quotes. I know that many people feel supported and uplifted by positive thinking quotes, or lists of what to do to be "happy." I'm not trying to put that effort down for them, but just to mull over why it doesn't work for me.

When I hear things that say, essentially, "just think yourself out of sadness or negativity," I hear "your sadness is not valid, your negativity is all in your head. You don't (or shouldn't) feel what you feel. If you were a better person, you wouldn't feel that way." It's a lie, a pervasive and sneaky lie that masquerades as truth. Happiness doesn't drown sorrow, sorrow births happiness. We NEED to experience pain and sorrow, in order to know joy.

We tend to believe in our medicated, comfortable lives that pain is evil. If something causes us pain, it must be changed or avoided. Well, my life has an element in it that causes pain that I cannot remove. Though a part of me wishes it were simply gone, I am thankful for it. It has taught me that not everything which causes pain is evil.

The Seventh Day: Eternal Life

"On the seventh day of Christmas,
my true love gave to me
seven swans a-swimming."

Eternal life is a tricky one. Most of us think of it as something we will get in the future, like an ultimate prize for righteousness. We love to joke about how much we can get away with and still "get into" heaven. Even within the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we often talk about "making it" to the Celestial Kingdom.

Eternal life is more than just living forever. It is living as God lives. Eternal life is His life. To live as God lives we must be willing to be what He is. That is not some prize to be won, it is something to become. And face it, we don't know all that much about God.

What we do know is nearly impossible to understand.

Apostasy and the Commandment to Forgive, Part 3

Apostasy and the Commandment to Forgive, Part 2

Jesus explains in Matthew 18:15-18 the process of what to do if one of Christ's disciples (ostensibly a member of the Church) should trespass against you. First, you should discuss it with him, then if he does not listen, involve the church, and then if he does not listen to the church he is no longer your brother in the gospel (v. 17). I believe this means that you still treat him with respect, but no longer trust him to behave as a disciple should behave. The Lord also gives the church the power to "bind and loose". In context, this would seem to mean that the church has power over membership covenants.

Peter then asks how often a person should be forgiven. Christ says, essentially, that we are to forgive ALL debts we hold against someone because we are debtors to Him.

Which brings me to a very personal illumination of forgiveness.

Bin Laden Has Died

Since it was announced, I have been thinking about posting my feelings about the death of bin Laden. But someone rather beat me to it.

Strange, perhaps, for a military brat to feel this way. But I don't believe that patriotism is best defined as American supremism. Perhaps because I lived a significant portion of my childhood in Germany, I feel strongly that atrocities are not committed by monsters in human form, but are committed by people much like us for reasons that we just as easily might have.

And we would be better served by looking for our mistakes and mourning the need to commit violence than by rejoicing that we are better than our enemies.

This is not a football game. I am ashamed of my fellow citizens.

"And Moroni was a strong and a mighty man; he was a man of a perfect understanding; yea, a man that did not delight in bloodshed; a man whose soul did joy in the liberty and the freedom of his country, and his brethren from bondage and slavery; yea, a man whose heart did swell with thanksgiving to his God, for the many privileges and blessings which he bestowed upon his people; a man who did labor exceedingly for the welfare and safety of his people. Yea, and he was a man who was firm in the faith of Christ, and he had sworn with an oath to defend his people, his rights, and his country, and his religion, even to the loss of his blood.

"Now the Nephites were taught to defend themselves against their enemies, even to the shedding of blood if it were necessary; yea, and they were also taught never to give an offense, yea, and never to raise the sword except it were against an enemy, except it were to preserve their lives. And this was their faith, that by so doing God would prosper them in the land, or in other words, if they were faithful in keeping the commandments of God that he would prosper them in the land; yea, warn them to flee, or to prepare for war, according to their danger; and also, that God would make it known unto them whither they should go to defend themselves against their enemies, and by so doing, the Lord would deliver them;

"And this was the faith of Moroni, and his heart did glory in it; not in the shedding of blood but in doing good, in preserving his people, yea, in keeping the commandments of God, yea, and resisting iniquity."

A Divine Characteristic: Vulnerability

". . . The God of heaven looked upon the residue of the people, and he wept; and Enoch bore record of it, saying, 'How is it that the heavens weep, and shed forth their tears as the rain upon the mountains?' And Enoch said unto the Lord, 'How is it that thou canst weep, seeing thou art holy, and from all eternity to all eternity? And were it possible that man could number the particles of the earth, yea, millions of earths like this, it would not be a beginning to the number of thy creations; and thy curtains are stretched out still; and yet thou art there, and thy bosom is there; and also thou art just; thou art merciful and kind forever . . . and naught but peace, justice, and truth is the habitation of thy throne; and mercy shall go before thy face and have no end; how is it thou canst weep?"
Moses 7:28-31, emphasis added

I find it humbling to know that the Lord weeps alongside us in our pain. Most of the time, when we are suffering, it is all too easy to feel utterly alone. It is easy to decide that He must not exist if He is capable of witnessing such pain, or that He must be impotent if He can stand by and do nothing, or that if He does exist, that He is not worthy of our worship.

But we are not alone.

I think one of the most powerful scriptural images for me is in the parable of the olive grove told in the Book of Mormon. In it, the Lord of the vineyard and His servant go to extraordinary lengths to try to preserve the delicious fruit of a dying tree. It seems to work for a time, then when the two return to the garden, they see that the delicious fruit is being choked out by unpleasant fruit.

"And it came to pass that the Lord of the vineyard wept, and said unto the servant: 'What could I have done more for my vineyard?'"
Jacob 5:41

I have had much occasion through the course of my life to feel the vibrancy of this plea for understanding. Despite doing my best, I often see my efforts come to nothing. Granted, I am not as powerful as the Lord, but I think I feel at least a small part of how and why the Lord can sorrow over us so poignantly and yet remain God.

Read carefully the answer the Lord gives Enoch. Perhaps by studying it, we can come to understand God a little better.

The Lord said unto Enoch, "Behold these thy brethren; they are the workmanship of mine own hands, and I gave unto them their knowledge, in the day I created them; and in the Garden of Eden, gave I unto man his agency; And unto thy brethren have I said, and also given commandment, that they should love one another, and that they should choose me, their Father; but behold, they are without affection, and they hate their own blood; . . .

'Behold, I am God; Man of Holiness is my name; Man of Counsel is my name; and Endless and Eternal is my name, also. Wherefore, I can stretch forth mine hands and hold all the creations which I have made; and mine eye can pierce them also, and among all the workmanship of mine hands there has not been so great wickedness as among thy brethren. But behold, their sins shall be upon the heads of their fathers; Satan shall be their father, and misery shall be their doom; and the whole heavens shall weep over them, even all the workmanship of mine hands; wherefore should not the heavens weep, seeing these shall suffer? . . . . And That which I have chosen hath pled before my face. Wherefore, he suffereth for their sins; inasmuch as they will repent in the day that my Chosen shall return unto me, and until that day they shall be in torment; Wherefore, for this shall the heavens weep, yea, and all the workmanship of mine hands."
Moses 7:32-40, emphasis added

God is eternal and endless, yet he can still suffer alongside us for the pain of mortality and temporary suffering.

Valentines Day for Singles

Last year, Valentine's Day was nearly one week after I had been attacked by my spouse. Although, by this time, I had begun to recover (speaking of emotionally, as I had no physical wounds), I was still having bouts of uncontrollable trembling. I suppose that on some level, I knew that the worst was still ahead of me. Needless to say, I had things on my mind besides valentines.

Now, almost a year later, the fear comes less often, and I find myself wanting to reach out and tell the people I care about how much they have meant to me in this past year, especially since many of them are also single. I think that, perhaps, it has taken a deep betrayal of love for me to treasure genuine love and caring, and know how to genuinely love and care.

I imagine this is what is meant when the Lord teaches that by tasting bitterness, we learn to prize what is sweet and good. After some time suffering outside of the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve rejoice, saying, "Were it not for our transgression we never should have . . . known good and evil, and the joy of our redemption, and the eternal life which God giveth unto all the obedient." I think I understand a little more how they felt.

Although I was never a fan of Valentine's Day (I still strongly dislike pink), this year it has caused me to reflect on love, and how real love almost always comes bittersweet, through sacrifice. I hope that I will be better able to "comfort those that stand in need of comfort . . . " as a better disciple of He who indelibly demonstrated love, and that I can "bind up the brokenhearted" and bring healing into the lives of those who need the Savior, the way I have been comforted and healed.

And someday, I hope that if I ever have a chance to love a spouse again, that I will be wise because of my experience, and choose to love someone who understands love.

Even if that means he has also learned by experience.

Winning is Such Sweet Sorrow

I was surprised at my reaction to Proposition 8 passing. I did not feel compelled to participate in campaigning for it, and the extent of my contribution was summed up in a few posts here and comments there. Yet, when I heard it passed, I was awash with a complicated flurry of emotions.

First was relief. Although I can understand that others may feel differently, to me it seemed a symbol of morality. Not all is lost, not all lines have been blurred for all people.

Close thereafter was a much more powerful rush of mourning. I knew that the lives of many would be affected by this, and there must be an immense agony incited by the passing of the amendment. Although it is unlikely to be believed, I ache for the hearts of those who believe they are doing the right thing. I hate pain in anyone, and can understand the feelings of loss, rejection and emptiness that must be felt by so many. Many members of the Church have and will leave because of it, much hatred will be deepened. That can't help but sadden me.

Finally, was a feeling of resignation. It is not over. It is likely that the judges will overthrow this decision as well, since they see it as a human rights issue. Moreover, hatred against the Church is reinforced, perhaps beyond repair. I see this as inevitable, given time, but that does not make it easy to witness.

The whole thing has me feeling rather wrung-out, even though I did not participate. My personality is one that just wants everyone to get along, yet I have a streak of loyalty to what I know to be true. It hurts to defend what I believe in, but I must do it. To me it is a choice between evils, and not much of a choice at all.

Unfortunately, that is often the lot of mortality.

Becoming One With God

I understand that my outlook on this may be controversial, but I feel it lies at the core of my beliefs and at the core of the person I have become. Oddly, we use the phrase "one with God" frequently in Sunday School settings, but I don't think we really think about what it means.

The first step of becoming one with God is baptism. As missionaries, sometimes we get so caught up in the event of baptism, we forget the purpose of it. It isn't only to be washed clean of our sins in preparation to receive the Spirit, though it is certainly that, too. It is also a covenant to stand as God's witness all the time and to act as His hands to all His children. Essentially, it is a covenant to become one with God. We are symbolically killing the natural man to be reborn as a disciple of the divine. We are then given the gift of the Spirit to help us do that.

Becoming one with God means shame from "the world". Since I was fourteen or so, I have made some decisions that guide my behavior for which I've been mocked, and even persecuted, often by those who love me most. One of these decisions, for example, was to no longer watch PG-13 or higher-rated movies. I have my reasons for this decision. For some reason, my refusal to watch these movies strikes a cord of derision in many. I have been mocked for allowing a secular rating system determine what I watch. (For the record, I have walked out of PG movies before, so it's not as arbitrary of a decision as it seems.) I have been laughed at because I watch only "kiddie shows". I have been verbally pummeled by people wanting to share a particularly good movie with me. I have been tempted frequently over the last decade to break that decision and watch "just one". It was hardest that first year, but after the first flush of effort, it hasn't gotten much easier over the course of the next several years. There is no "happily ever after" with such things during this life.

Becoming one with God means to always have His Spirit with you, and to always be thinking about Him. Some find the thought of always having God in mind rather oppressive, or even unhealthy. Although I'm sure we have all met people who are overly pious, defining everything in terms of what is proper (much like the Pharisees), restricting laughter and stringently restricting behavior, that isn't what I believe is meant by these scriptures. God is a whole God, a balanced and complete God. The more He is in your thoughts and heart, the more balanced you become. There are no words to describe this wholeness. It purifies and sanctifies laughter and joy, as well as somberness and sorrow. Everything becomes deeper and more meaningful. Fun is more fun, sorrow is more pure. I have tasted this feeling, though I am far from completely achieving it. It is the key to the end of my depression. It is the key to my ability to forgive others of devastating blows. It is the key to true joy. It is my ultimate goal for this life.

I wish I had the ability to describe it. It is one of those things I think you have to experience to understand. I can attest to the fact that before I felt it, I had absolutely no idea that this was what the scriptures were trying to say. This is what the gospel is all about. It makes a "spiritual experience" merely a stepping stone. It makes your life into a spiritual experience.

Grieving on Presidents' Day

I wrote this on Presidents' Day and decided to post it. Consider it a bit of a tribute to two wonderful people and to the slightly dysfunctional but fiercely loyal family they left behind.

Today, instead of lazing around home or going shopping for Presidents' Day, I packed my daughter and most of my cleaning supplies into my small Honda and drove to my paternal grandparents' home. My grandfather's wife has retrieved all her things and left the home feeling truly empty. My two uncles and two of my aunts were there. Tensions have been high since my grandfather passed away, but the feeling today was one of industry and nostalgia. My throat caught when I first walked into the house. I thought I had anticipated the feeling of realizing yet again that my grandparents were gone, but I hadn't prepared myself enough. The leftover shell that once housed a living, breathing couple lay stripped of most of its character, but whispering stories still lurked in the corners, waiting to be uncovered with brooms and spic-and-span-soaked rags.

Our main goal was to clear out the kitchen. My father and his siblings had decided to rent the house to a friend of my aunt. All of the dishes, utensils and other detritus that can collect in a kitchen was slated to one of three fates: the garbage, the thrift store or to a room to be picked over by family. I was allowed to take anything in the thrift store pile. I didn't take much, mostly a couple of odds and ends: a set of tongs, a garlic press, an old-fashioned ice cream scoop. Nothing that held any real meaning.

As we sorted through things, we came to a hanging sorter with three pockets labeled "Letters". "Bills". "Misc". In the short time I lived with my grandparents, before I went to college, I helped my grandmother sort her coupons, matching them to the things she wanted to buy. My aunt decided to send it to the thrift store. I quickly scooped it up. To me, it was not junk. My grandmother passed away nearly nine years ago. I miss her.

The family - and by that, I mean my grandparents children - decided that the grandchildren would have no claim on the things left behind. Once the children claimed what they wished, the grandchildren could pick over what was left. There is little to no chance I will have anything else to remember my grandmother by, not until my own parents pass on.

I didn't realize how bittersweet helping to clean my grandmother's house would be. I am a child of the military. Places are not meant to have meaning. Yet, in all the places I moved, I always knew my father's and mother's parents were there. Their houses never really changed. They were anchors in an otherwise drifting life. Now, the house remains, but the anchor is gone. It did not break suddenly. It slowly rusted as my grandmother died, replaced by my grandfather's new wife, and then finally gone when my grandfather joined my grandmother.

My mom's mother recently entered a nursing home. I feel that my grandfather will not be far behind. Their farmhouse is now the last of my anchors. It, too, will soon rust through. Then, I shall be left to find new anchors.

We were visited by a cat. I am allergic to cats, but I love them. This one was small, colored a rusty black and had eyes the color of new pine needles. She was dusty, but affectionate, though she was afraid of my exuberant daughter. She was a stray. I told her I would take her home if she stayed until we left. The tiny, superstitious part of my mind wondered at the coincidence of a black cat visiting so insistently at a time like this. I find that animals, particularly cats, tend to come when I need something soft and living to touch. By the time I left the house, she was gone. I wish she had stayed.

I left the house feeling a little more at peace. Death has never been something to ruffle my feathers. I'm not sure if it is because I have never formed strong bonds with someone, or if it is because I have a very unorthodox view of death. It is probably a little of both. Whatever the reason, I always find myself feeling a little awkward when surrounded by the grieving, particularly when I should also be grieving. Today, I mourned my grandfather and my grandmother in truth by sorting through their things and remembering.

Men Are That They Might Have Joy

This isn't a long post, as I don't have much to say that hasn't already been said on this scripture. In my reading, I came across this scripture mastery scripture: 2 Nephi 2:25 "Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy."

It's a very central distinguishing factor in the doctrine of Mormonism. Rarely in the Christian world is Adam and Eve's Fall looked upon as anything other than filthy sin. The doctrine of the LDS Church, however, teaches that Adam and Eve's Fall had a purpose in the great plan of our God, namely to bring about his work of bringing to pass the immortality and eternal life of man. Without the ability to choose, we humans could not learn to choose wisely. We could not grow. We could not learn to be actors instead of the acted-upon. We could not have learned the power and joy of having a family and children. We could not have learned joy without knowing sorrow. Importantly, LDS doctrine teaches that God knew what Adam and Eve would choose, and then prepared a way for them, if they chose wisely, to be forgiven. Namely, He provided a Savior for them, whose atonement would erase the consequences of Adam and Eve's Fall for all those willing to choose righteously and to repent.

As someone intermittently beset by a lack of joy, I've often wondered about this verse. Sometimes, I've wondered what was wrong with me. If men exist in order to have joy, why was I finding it so difficult? Something that struck me this time, however, was the word "might". Adam didn't Fall in order that men have joy, but to give a chance for men to have joy. There is an opportunity, a chance, for all of us, no matter our position in life, our wealth, our social status, our health, to find that joy. It's not something that comes naturally, it's something that must be worked for. The common modern perception that somehow comfort and joy ought to be handed to all is simply wrong. If a person is given everything they wish, they will not be able to understand joy when they have it. Joy must be worked for, and most importantly, sorrow must be understood in order to appreciate joy.

Only when sorrow pushes the strength of our souls can we understand, just a little bit more, the Price that was paid for our joy. When we do that, we realize how very great the worth of souls is to Him. Imagine! We humans are so valuable, He was willing to undergo humiliation and death, the Father was willing to send His Son to us, knowing all our weaknesses and filth. Yet, despite the fact that we crucified our God, our worth to Him is beyond comprehension. That is humbling, and it brings me great joy.

Does a Happy Ending Define a Genuine Experience with the Spirit?

I was reading a series of comments to a post at Mormon Matters and ran into this comment. Essentially, it says that if an action ends happily, we can conclude that an action was prompted by the Holy Ghost. I'm not so sure this is true.

I seem to be at a 5-10 year period of my life wherein I try to follow the Spirit and receive confirmation to every careful request for direction but my decisions that seem to be Spirit-guided end badly. I have come to realize that the ending does not invalidate my Spiritual prompting. To give a fairly innocuous example, I felt a strong, Spiritual drive towards a geographical location after my mission. I had a choice to remain in Florida (not really an option for me, I hate the heat) to follow my parents to Washington and find a job there (an area of the country I have longed after) or to come back to Utah. I felt I should come back to Utah. There was no doubt in my heart, and every time I prayed in and out of the temple, I felt that same strong prompting. I came here only to find myself Spiritually stagnating in this environment, aggravated by the constant bickering between Mormons and ex-Mormons and non-Mormons. I have no real day-to-day friends in my life. A few experiences since my return have left me feeling rather alienated from the Church rather than integrated.

Does that mean my prompting was not real because its ending was not happy? You might argue that it hasn't ended yet, but I have other more personal examples which have to all practical purposes ended and left me feeling broken. Yet, I believe that I did follow actual promptings. I don't think the question of whether or not someone followed the Spirit can always be answered by the obvious results of their actions. I don't think that the Spirit always leads us to happy endings in this life.

As my favorite movie, the Last Unicorn concludes, "there are no happy endings, because nothing ends." Not in this life, anyways. I know, however, that after our lives are over if not before, we will have cause to thank the Lord and thank Him and thank Him, both for the joys in our lives and for the sorrows. I know by my own experience that if we do our best to follow the Spirit, even though our lives may seem dark and lonely for awhile, we will find that our path led us through the greatest joys in this life to the Greatest Joy of all eternity.