Living with both fear and faith....

I lived in an almost constant state of fear for years. October is a hard month for me, not only because it was one of the incidents that I experienced, (I am reminded every time I see a fog machine,) but because it is National Domestic Violence month.

Every year, I consider wearing purple on the day of the month that he left me. I only did it once. A tiny, purple ribbon. The truth is, I don't want to dwell on what happened in the past. I don't want to be reminded. It's not really a part of my life any more. And I certainly don't want to talk about it.

But I don't have much choice about being reminded, so I choose to talk so that other people can feel a little less alone. And still more can catch a glimpse of a world I hope they never have to truly understand, no matter how much I long for understanding.

Getting out of my relationship didn't help the fear. It honed it. As with most abusive people, the loss of control made him truly rage. And that rage echoes through the years. He simply can't let it go completely, and focus on his new wife and his kids. But it's okay. Every time he tries something new, he loses a little more power. So rather than focusing on that, I want to talk about hope and faith in the midst of fear.

We all have had cause to fear. Fear not being good enough. Fear judgment. Fear loss of blessings if people knew what we were really like. Fear being alone. Fear loss of children, spiritually or physically. Fear the loss of our spouse, of being looked down on by our neighbors. Fear of not being right. Fear of sickness or death.

And often, you hear that fear cannot exist where there is faith. But it can.

The Atonement of Jesus Christ brings joy, but it is not always the type of joy that led the sons of God to shout and all the morning stars to sing. Sometimes it's a quiet joy, the joy that comes from knowing that there is someone out there, an omniscient being, an omni-benevolent God, who knows you, knows your sorrows, and is willing to sorrow with you, even if that sorrow is temporary. He doesn't tell us to buck up and get over it. He weeps along with us.

I often picture that, when I mourn with no one to hear, knowing that my mourning is really kind of stupid, after all. My kids will be fine. They are learning, in spades, to distinguish between truth and error. That's exactly what we're here for.

To me, faith is not dressed in white, holding a candle, with softly flowing hair. Faith is battle-scarred, dressed in filthy fatigues, mustering just one more smile, one more act of charity, one more attempt to drag our fellow soldiers out of harm's way. Faith makes mistakes, but keeps trying because she knows in whom she has trusted.

I can't see even the next step in front of me, and I've lived that way for years. But I keep walking, because I'd rather fall while trying to serve my God than stand still and wait for a rescue that may never come.

So for me, as hard as it is, October is a time of faith. I don't know what eternity holds. There isn't much hope in what we know so far, for me. But I know God. I know my Savior. And I choose to keep walking, whether or not I wear a purple ribbon.

"You have no power over me!"

When I was in kindergarten, I used to go to the principal’s office to read TIME magazine to him. Occasionally, he would ask me what a specific word meant. I remember being worried I wouldn’t explain it correctly, that I would be wrong. That summer, I spent weeks wrestling with math, sometimes literally banging my head on the desk in order to catch up enough to enter 2nd grade.

My mom was an early childhood educator, and my dad was a social worker. It was the early 80s, a time for child psychology. I was born with some natural intelligence, but my parents trained and honed it. I was in the Gifted classes. I was told how unique and special I was. How I was smart. I was raised to believe I could solve any problem, accomplish anything if I put my mind to it.

As I got older, I went to college, graduated in veterinary science, became a web designer, served a mission for my church, came home, and met a man.

He was not of my faith, and I was only interested in dating people who believed as I did. He said that something had been missing from his life. He wanted the family life, the life of faith. He wanted to have the relationship with God I had. He listened to the missionaries in my home, and was eventually baptized into my church.

Everyone in my ward said how cute we were together. When, the night before I moved away, he floundered over asking me to marry him, I said yes before he finished his sentence. I had prayed about it. I thought it was right.

My Best Two Years

I have often heard people refer to their missions as their best two years. There is even a movie about it. And I've heard many people mock the idea of a mission being their best two years. Usually because missions are so hard and miserable. Who can honestly enjoy being rejected on an hourly basis, working so hard at something with so little personal reward? You've got to be insane, or brainwashed. Or brain dead.

To be honest, my mission is not the best two-year span anymore, though it was. That honor currently goes to my most recent two years. But directly after my mission, I would have said it was my best two years without any hesitation. Not because it was fun. It was actually pretty terrible. I would explain, but that would be a VERY long blog post. So I'll give a light sampling. Under my first mission president, incredible focus was placed on memorizing the discussions. We were even considered "greenies" (newbie missionaries) until we had memorized and passed off word-for-word the first discussion. (They still had the seven discussions, then.) Eventually, we were expected to memorize them all.

I don't memorize. Generally, I think memorization is a waste of time that undermines comprehension, especially with something like missionary discussions. Being who I used to be, I vociferously refused to do it. (My poor 19-21 year old district leaders really got a workout trying to be my Priesthood leader through the entire duration of my mission. Any of them who still wish to serve God in a priesthood capacity after experiencing mission-me really deserve some kudos.) I did eventually cave, but only because my mission president told me that while I didn't have to do it, it would really help my district leader if I just bent to the unnecessary rule.

The bulk of my mission under this president was an ongoing battle of wills between me, my district/zone leaders, and the mission numbers.

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.

"Daughters in My Kingdom" Post, the Second

Either I am particularly raw right now, or this book just seems to rub a raw spot on my soul. I don't cry often when reading anything, but when I read the story of how one woman's baby died, it hit me hard. I know the fear of losing my children. Particularly poignant was reading how, after she lost her baby, she used her knowledge of the pain to comfort and mourn with others who lost theirs!

This is personal to me. I know that the things I have experienced are a drop in the bucket compared to the suffering one human can endure. And yet, like a sock full of nearly invisible holes, I feel myself unraveling, the holes getting bigger no matter how I try to patch them. Lately has been one of those times, when I yearn for help to hold myself together and do not know where to find it. My tank is empty, and I am running on fumes and faith.

Young Women's Values—Integrity

Integrity: moral uprightness, the state of being whole and undivided

I have been putting off this particular value because it has always been my favorite, and because until fairly recently, I've been feeling anything but whole and undivided. Or morally upright, to be honest.

I have learned something now about integrity.

Can't I Learn Humility Some Other Way?

The other day, I caught myself beginning to obsess about some things that someone said about me. Whenever I am criticized, my habit at first is to panic. Could it be true? Could I really be that incompetent/ petty/ jealous/ angry/ whatever? Is there some major flaw in my character I'm not seeing that I need to fix RIGHT AWAY OR I WON'T BE LOVED?!?

One of my besetting sins is to continually desire perfection. Lest ye think that this is some pseudo-sin, let me assure you it is not. It has affected my relationships with people, myself, and even God. Most of my sorrow in life has been brought about because I was trying so hard to be good and failed. Again and again and again.*

My life-scripture, the one that seems to come up over and over again, is the Lord's words to Moroni. Moroni was looking at the testimony he had written and comparing it to the power the Lord had granted him in speaking. (I wonder what I wouldn't give to actually hear the words of those ancient prophets. If their written words are weak, then imagine the power of God present in their speech!)

Like Moroni, I see unflattering contrast between what I desire and what actually happens. I feel the power of God move in me, but I look at what I do and it is so weak in comparison to what I WANT to be doing. I long for human spiritual connection the way Moroni longed to Spiritually connect, and believe deep down that I have to be perfect to get it.

The Lord says to Moroni, "I give unto men weakness that they may be humble."

I hate weakness. I hate forgiving and then finding myself having to forgive again. I hate feeling like I don't know the rules to the game of life, and if only I knew them I could do them and everyone would love me. I hate feeling occasionally angry, tired, cranky, depressed or jealous when underneath it I have less than no desire to be any of those things, EVER.

And yet, I'm coming to understand that I will never be strong, and that is a good thing. So long as I use my weakness to look at myself and realize that I am not God, that weakness can change me for the better. If I come to accept that weakness, to ignore it, or worse to revel in it, I remain caught in pride and unable to serve the Lord.

So even though I see my weakness and ache to be rid of it, I am trying my best to forgive myself, to not obsess over all the things I do wrong, but to focus on what I'm doing right RIGHT NOW. I don't think it is coincidence that we later hear from Moroni one of the most powerful discourses on charity extant.

And maybe if I'm more humble, I'll be receptive when the Lord uses my weaknesses to further His purposes.






*As a side note, I I read a recent paper that discusses homosexuality and realized how many of those traits I shared. It got me thinking about ways of thinking in general (metathinking!) and how many of the principles described in that therapy could help with other issues.

Young Women's Values—Choice & Accountability

One of the most essential doctrines of the LDS Church is that of agency. We believe that we chose to come here to earth, and that we have full ability to choose whether or not and to what extent we will follow God. I used to think that the choice part of the equation was good, and the accountability not so much.

A prevailing opinion seems to be developing that we, as humans, deserve choice without accountability. I believe that this is one of Satan's most powerful mockeries of the eternal principle. Being able to choose and taking responsibility for the effects of our choices—good and bad—are two sides of the same coin. You can't lose one without losing the other. This has been a painful lesson for me, as I have had to learn to stop taking responsibility for things I did not choose, at the same time that I learned to take responsibility for the things that were my choice. However, as I've come to understand agency better, I have also come to see that taking responsibility is just as liberating as choosing.

It took an indescribable amount of soul-searching to come to the decision to divorce. And a great deal of pain came to me and to others for that decision. Yet, as I exercised my ability to choose, I also came to accept the responsibility for the effects of that choice. If I had not realized that the good effects of my choice far outweighed the bad, it would have been impossible to make. Yet, I sacrificed others' good opinions of me, my good opinion of myself, my personal comfort and feelings of safety, and in some measure, my daughters' comfort and safety, so that I could protect myself and my children in the long run. And, unexpectedly, my good opinion of myself as a daughter of God has returned tenfold. My children are happier and I am far happier than would have been possible had I not trusted the promptings of the Spirit to make that hard choice.

And I know that I am right in the sight of God, and that is priceless.

When we use our own judgment and the input of others to make our own decisions, and when we own the effects (foreseen and unforeseen) of those choices, we become a little more like God.

This also applies to conference talks and other things that are sometimes taught in the Church. LDS doctrine makes it very clear, for example, that divorce is not the ideal. Yet, because of the power and love of God, I was able to hear the Spirit and know when it was time to make the exception in my life. Though it was painful, it was empowering. And it has helped me believe even more strongly in the doctrines of the Church. I believe in eternal marriage and marital fidelity even more than I did before, and now I believe with a full heart and clearer vision of what marriage should be.

As we come to accept the doctrine of agency, and learn to choose wisely and take responsibility for the choices we make, we progress even closer to God and to understanding His doctrines.

Stand for Truth and Righteousness

As a tomboy, my experience in the Young Women's program was somewhat . . . frustrating. So much of Young Women's was about baking scripture cookies, learning to guard one's virtue, sewing hope chest items and fulfilling Personal Progress. I lived for camp. Every time I got to attend YW camp, I threw myself into hiking, learning to shoot arrows, build fires and, of course, playing pranks.

But beyond all that is the core of what I feel the Young Women's program should be.

"We are daughters of our Heavenly Father, who loves us, and we love Him.
We will 'stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places' as we strive to live the Young Women values, which are:

Faith
Divine Nature
Individual Worth
Knowledge
Choice and Accountability
Good Works
Integrity and
Virtue.

We believe as we come to accept and act upon these values,
we will be prepared to strengthen home and family, make and keep sacred covenants, receive the ordinances of the temple, and enjoy the blessings of exaltation."

I think that when I was a Young Woman, I concentrated on the values. It was easy to do so, with their pretty colors and memorability. But if you cut out the list of values and really look at what is being said, you touch on something truly beautiful.

Each and every woman is a daughter of God. That comes with an immense responsibility. Divinity lives in each of us. When we, as one of His daughters, approach Him in prayer, truly trying to connect with our Father, He will show us who we are and how He feels about us.

When we feel that, it is a gloriously humbling feeling. And with it comes an intense sense of the immensity of God, a small understanding of how He feels about each of His children. His children who are all around us, who are the imperfect us, walking around in our clouds of Me. It inspires you to help them, to heal them, to show them that they are better than what they are doing to themselves.

And that is why we "stand as witnesses" of Him, by mourning with those who mourn, comforting those who need comfort, bearing their burdens, testifying to them of His love and of those things which bring true, lasting joy.

If I could, this would be the spark of desire I would try to light in our Young Women—and Young Men—dedication of a true disciple of Jesus of Nazareth. A person who is not afraid to "Stand for Truth and Righteousness" whatever the consequence, wherever truth and righteousness are found.

When Spiritual Leaders Aren't

Due to some of the advice in my previous post, I thought it might be appropriate to follow up with a post I've been struggling with for some time. Again, I don't want to disparage or criticize anyone. At the same time, a failure to find appropriate and authoritative spiritual guidance when you need it most is not an uncommon situation. Especially in a Church where ecclesiastical leadership is untrained and uncompensated, and isn't even the primary concern of those who lead, it will come sooner or later that most members find themselves with no official spiritual leadership. What do you do when those who should spiritually lead do not? How do you cope with needing spiritual guidance and not finding it in those with the authority to help? Where do you turn for counsel?

First, I think it is important to understand why the Lord might have instituted a lay priesthood. There doesn't seem to be much clear commentary on the matter, so my thoughts are mostly conjecture based on what I understand of the gospel and priesthood. I feel that, as it is God's will that we should make good choices and come back to Him, the opportunity for all men to participate in priesthood leadership gives them the chance to learn what leadership is. Rather than restricting that learning experience to those who choose it by making it their vocation, He asks that men learn to balance Church, family and personal life, learning to put service as a priority and learning empathy for those they lead. Additionally, they can taste a small measure of divinity when they stand as if they were Christ, intercessors in some way between us and God. In short, it is a chance for them to learn to judge wisely and exercise charity. This principle must work with agency to create some less-than-ideal circumstances. Sometimes, other children of God have to suffer because of the learning process. This doesn't make such leaders bad or wrong, just imperfect. It also gives those without good leadership a chance to learn forgiveness and patience for imperfection.

This is all well and good in thought, but what happens when it comes down to the nitty-gritty and you desperately need spiritual guidance which just isn't there? What happens when you find yourself struggling under the influence of Satan's power and there are no home teachers, no bishopric member, no father or husband or brother to turn to? (As a side note, this may seem to be a uniquely female conundrum, but I'd like to point out that men must also turn to another for spiritual leadership. They cannot do it for themselves.)

There, the beauty of the Gospel truly manifests. Although the Lord has set up the Priesthood to bless the children of Adam and Eve, He has not left us comfortless when we cannot turn to another mortal for such help. He has blessed us with the Spirit of God. This Spirit can not only comfort us, but can call forth His servants to help in times of trouble when one of His children cannot ask for it. I have experienced this in my life multiple times, particularly in the last year or so. Disciples of Christ, thankfully in tune with the Spirit, have come to me and ministered to me when I didn't know how to ask for help. (Many of whom read this blog.) Angels, both mortal and immortal, have surrounded me to bear me up.

However, even in those dark times when I haven't been able to feel or recognize heavenly help, I have been able to cling to the knowledge of my redemption. Gaining a testimony of Christ's Atonement has, at times, been the only lifeline I had. Despite the structure of God's Priesthood, the line between each individual and divinity is unbroken and unbreakable by any other. A lack of mortal spiritual leadership when needed is sometimes only an opportunity to deepen the spiritual bonds between yourself and God. When there is no one else, He is always there.

So, where do you turn for counsel? To Jesus Christ, whose life and death was dedicated to our welfare, who knows us better and more deeply than we know ourselves, whose faithfulness was stronger than Death and Hell. When our faithfulness to Him becomes just as strong, we will be able to ensure that when another of God's children needs spiritual guidance, we will be there, ready to answer the call of the Spirit.

Eve's Choice

I have often wondered how Eve must have felt, holding the Fruit in her hand and contemplating that bite. Did she clearly see the two paths before her?

She was given the name of Eve, "mother of all living", before she made that decision. She was chosen and named to choose mortal life for all living - not only for mankind. We don't hear much about her after that. In the book of Moses in the Pearl of Great Price, we hear that she labored alongside her husband, bearing his burden for their transgression along with her own. We are told that she worshipped the Lord with her husband and desired that her children follow in her faith. We know that some of her children were not faithful, but worshipped Satan. We learn that this hurt her, showing that she indeed felt the sorrow of her choice. We are also shown that despite this pain and sorrow, she bore her consequences with true nobility, and that she found joy in her life and in her service - and in her sorrow.

I believe that Eve clearly saw her choice, though she may not have understood the full consequences of her choice. I do not think she transgressed in ignorance. As she held that fruit in her hand, listening to the lies of Satan, she knew that her husband had been given a commandment to not partake of Knowledge. She knew that they both had been told to multiply and replenish the earth. She was faced with two commandments, she knew how to follow the first, but the second she did not know. The serpent told her that eating the fruit would make her wise, perhaps she realized it was this wisdom that would be necessary to follow that second commandment. Perhaps she only hoped it would be so. Regardless, I believe she saw two paths - one safe and known, the other wrought with uncertainty, danger and sorrow. Perhaps she, also, wrestled a long time with her decision. In the end, she was willing to take sorrow upon herself in order to learn the joy. She was willing to take the harder road, even without knowing for certain that it was God's will.

I believe that each of Eve's children will be given, to some extent, the same choice she was given. Will we choose the middle, safe road or will we choose the road of pain, labor and sacrifice? Do we have the courage to leap into the unknown, relying on the Lord's infinite love for us? What's more, are we willing to make that choice when it affects another, knowing it will also bring them pain?

I don't know if I am. I don't even know which of my two paths is the one with more sorrow. But I have learned to honor our mother Eve for the decision she made. Her strength and bravery is far greater than we realize. I hope I can meet her some day. Meet her, and thank her for her life.