A Hunger and a Thirst

This is a difficult topic to discuss, because it's offensive. I guarantee that someone is going to claim that what I'm saying is Pharisaical, that I'm saying I'm more righteous than they are. But I'm not. I have some very definite sins that I'm struggling with which keep me separated from God.

But despite this, an observation has been weighing on my mind. This is my attempt to explore what I'm feeling by intuition and try to ferret out the logical reasons why I'm so bothered.

I've been participating in various online LDS communities on and off for over 15 years. When I first started, I noticed that many people online resented the various rules we were given. Whether it was a rule as silly and simple as wearing white shirts to pass the sacrament, or as serious and grounded in doctrine as eternal marriage being only between a husband and wife, nothing has escaped the criticism of the self-selected Mormon intelligentsia.

For many years, I thought it was a bias. Those who struggle with feeling that the church is restrictive, and that the leadership are closed to change naturally look for a safe space to air their grievances, which the internet naturally provides in vast and varied venues.

But over the past several years, I've seen these paradigms spread and grow in the average Mormon community. This drive to fight against rules is a natural one. And sometimes those rules should be opposed. That's what makes this so difficult to discuss. It's 90% good mixed with 10% danger, and speaking against the 10% offends people, who then deflect your concerns to the 90% and claim thereby that you are wrong.

And my thoughts on this topic are by no means complete or fully formed. So let's start with what I know.

"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.

"Thy Will On Earth"

In my personal life, I have had opportunities to ponder what it means to be a member of this Church. As I watch people with experiences like mine churn against the practices and doctrines of the Church, I wonder if it is only a matter of time before I, too, fall away. Insight into why I can't seem to give up has come slowly and piecemeal. I'm not sure there is one large answer. All I know, is that I cannot turn my back on this Church any more than Joseph Smith could deny that he had seen a vision. It is not a perfect Church, and I do not understand it all. But I know it is Christ's church, and I can't deny it.

Not long before I graduated with a 4-year degree in veterinary medicine, I looked into vet schools. In the two years of my study, I had not truly realized how difficult it was to get into vet school, nor how expensive it was once you got there. I had spent two years carrying nearly the maximum credit load while working the full 20 hours/week I was allowed to work. I pulled a high B average, which is not bad but was less than I was capable of. I had gone year-round, and I was exhausted.

Messy Faith

"Make the heart of this people fat, and make their ears heavy, and shut their eyes; lest they see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and understand with their heart, and convert, and be healed."
Isaiah 6:10

I'm exhausted. The things going on in my life have me flat-on-my-back emotionally and physically. I don't even have the energy to put up a tree this year (but I'm going to do it anyways.) School, two wards, work, friends, and family all have their demands and/or expectations, and I haven't got anything to give.

I'm not a very good Mormon. I don't make casseroles to take to people. I have no time for crafts. I can't even get my visiting teaching done (but there's always next month to do it right!, my VT Supervisor says.) I feel pretty good even when I make cookies or something to take to my neighbors. My testimony is "complicated," as I put it when trying to explain it in RS yesterday. Unlike the woman on the back row, I DO doubt, I have doubted, and I AM doubting, but I know "by my own experience" that faith and doubt most certainly can occupy the same space at the same time. Because my faith isn't about "feeling good" about something. It is, and always has been, a raw choice for me. I can't explain my turbulence of emotion and how I have come to float on top of it. But I have. I'd be a bad liberal, too, if I were one, for the exact same types of reasons.

Same-sex Marriage Policy

There is a flurry of opinions and thoughts flying around about the policy clarifications regarding same-sex marriage and the children of gay parents living in a same-sex relationship.

I will only say that I am sorry for all the hurt that it causes. I am also glad the clarifications were made, and support them. The Lord is a merciful God. He is the only source we can turn to for comfort and understanding.

In time, all the wounds of mortality will be healed.

Even mine.

Even yours.

Having No Joy

I hate the word "trials." We talk about getting through our trials, enduring our trials, or suffering trials, as if they are something that stop. Our tolerance for helping other people "get through their trials" fades over time when those trials just don't go away. And for those of us whose "trials" are permanent, at some point we begin to wonder what we are doing wrong that we cannot find the peace and happiness promised in scripture if we follow the commandments.

When I was 17, I planned to focus on a career and eventually get married if the right man came along. I'd have few kids, no more than two, because I knew that my personality and temperament was not well-suited to child rearing. In my Patriarchal Blessing, I was told that the task the Lord set for me, among others, was to be a mother in Zion. The words of my Patriarchal Blessing rocked me to my knees, and I spent the next four years changing my paradigm. If the Lord wanted me to be a mother, I'd focus all my energy on learning to do it right.

I changed career plans, served a mission, and over the course of the next two or three years, became someone who not only submitted to the will of the Lord as spoken in my blessing, but actually craved it. Which is why, as I realized that I could not succeed in being a good wife to the man I had married, it cut so deeply. I sacrificed to be the kind of person who could be a good wife, and one simple decision—choosing a man who later decided to not choose God—meant that my sacrifices were pointless. It has done more than ended a marriage. It killed my confidence in myself, and broke my hope to become what the Lord wanted of me.

Mormons are Hypocrites

I mostly grew up outside of the Mormon Corridor. When I was fourteen, my family moved from Germany to a small town in Idaho. The culture shock was the greatest we had ever experienced. I went from a high school with nearly a thousand people in my graduating class to one with nearly a thousand people in the whole school. We went from being surrounded with trees and cultural activities to being stuck in a desert, with only two basic things for a teen to do on the weekend: get drunk/high or go to the Mormon dances.

It was definitely a step down.

But, over time, I made quite good friends with a girl I'll call Kelly. Her family was in the Church, but they didn't go consistently. They lived in a different housing complex across the base from us, but we still frequently hung out together. We were friends for the better part of a year before Kelly started dating.

Now, I wasn't interested in dating. I was tall, gawky, frizzy-haired and awkward. Plus I was a definite tomboy and bookworm. And boys scared me ever since I had heard them talking about girls when they thought none were listening. But that was all Kelly could talk about. Swiftly, she found a particular boy and they would make out every chance they got, often with me around. I remember playing chauffeur to them frequently as we went to and from activities. They would kiss (and other things) in the back while I drove.

A Perspective of Joy

Twice I have stood on the ground of Dachau, closing my eyes as the horrors of history reached into the present to sanctify through suffering. I have spoken to survivors of Auschwitz, and read the stories of many others. My own grandfather was captured near Strasbourg, France, and survived a death march in World War II.

Two things I have gathered from those who have survived horrors: That all are given a choice between allowing the darkness to make you his own, or to fight to find joy in the midst of atrocity; and that there are some things too dark to talk about.

When another human being chooses to do everything in their power to hurt you, words fail. There is nothing that can be said about that particular use of agency which fully communicates the way it changes your perspective, tries its best to warp your faith and rob you of power.

While not all of us will face the unspeakable hell faced by the victims of the Nazi regime, we will all at some point be injured by the deliberate actions of another. We will all have the choice to face aggression with returned aggression, or meet it with candor and acceptance...which is far easier talked about from a distance than up close. How, when you are attacked by another human being, can you truly forgive?

Abomination of Desolation and a Little Fig Tree

Before you try to read into what I'm about to say, and boil my words down to a "HATEZ TEH GAYZ," I'm going to fully admit that my words are about the legal ratification of gay relationships (vis a vis gay marriage) BUT that they are about much, much more than that. Most of you who read this will call me a bigot, insist that my opinions come from hatred, and soon (once you have power to do so) you will probably physically revile and attack me and my family.

So be it. I hope that when the time comes, I will be able to face it with courage and kindness.

For a long time, I have been fairly silent on the subject of gay marriage/civil unions. I probably will be again, once I've posted this. The only chance I had to vote on it so far, I voted to support gay marriage/civil unions. But my opinions have changed since then, and I become more sadly convinced of them as time goes on. My opinions haven't changed because of gay marriage, or gays, or aversion to homosexual attraction. They have changed because I've been taught of a much larger picture of the role of religious beliefs in a public sphere, and it is that larger picture I wish to address.

"The Spirit said...Slay him."

The first truly troubling passage in the Book of Mormon comes when Nephi, the hero of the book so far, is commanded by God to kill someone. Now, I have never killed anyone or any thing larger than a spider, but I have been present at the death of animals. Death, like birth, is a sobering and humbly powerful thing to witness, let alone do.

For several verses, Nephi rationalizes what he's about to do. He creeps into the city towards the house of Laban, pausing only to assure us that he had no idea what was about to happen. As he comes closer to Laban's house, he sees a man fallen down dead drunk. As he comes closer, he sees it is Laban and furthermore that Laban has his "exceedingly fine" sword with a hilt of PURE GOLD and a blade of precious steel (which is nearly as expensive as gold.) He's just laying there in the muck with his ultra-fancy sword strapped to him.

(I've always wondered, where were Laban's friends? Surely he got drunk WITH someone, and wasn't randomly wandering the streets. How did he come to find himself alone this night? Did his friends feel guilty the next morning, when they realized he had been killed?)

Ordain Women, Midsingles, and the Trouble with Agency

Have you ever wondered why a third of the hosts of heaven left God to follow Satan? I have. I've spent hours of time wondering why, when presented with God's eternal Plan, some shouted for joy, and others left the service of God forever. When I was younger, I couldn't comprehend it. How could someone, faced with the prospective glories of exaltation, simply leave them behind? As an adult, I'm starting to understand.

We often talk about the Celestial Kingdom as if it is heaven, and everything else is a version of Hell. We Mormons haven't really left our Protestant ideas of glory or punishment behind. We act as though, by following the commandments and doing all that we have been commanded to the best of our abilities, we will be justified by our sacrifices, forgiven by Christ, and enter into the Father's presence. But it doesn't work like that.

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

Polygamy: My Internal Evolution

I have never written my feelings on polygamy on this blog. Probably, in part, because it is such a hot-button topic with so many emotions in so many people. And certainly, in part, because polygamy is largely irrelevant to me. I have so many immediate points of doctrinal practice that occupy my mind, a large part of me is happy to relegate polygamy to the realm of "sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof." I'll cross that bridge if and when I come to it.

But, perhaps shining a little illumination on my thoughts will help others of you who find this a louder dissonance figure out a way to navigate through your struggles.

The Complexity of Modesty

"Men and society tend to objectify women. When women dress immodestly, they are communicating a message that they are sexually available. You can't blame men for assuming that a woman is available if she's advertising her assets. It is much easier for a man to see a woman as a whole person if she is wearing clothes that are considered modest for her culture."

"Women are people, no matter what they are wearing. Men should take responsibility for their thoughts and actions, and no longer victim-blame women for 'asking for' objectification. What women choose to wear doesn't always have anything to do with wanting to attract a man. Women should be able to wear whatever they want without other people turning them into an object."

With which do you agree?

Healing Through Repeat Trauma

When I first created and named this blog, I didn't know it would be so prophetic. Then, I only chose this name because it fit my screen name, and I loved the parable of the houses built upon sand and rock. Since then, my house has truly been buffeted by storms I did not imagine at the time. There have been times that I was sure that my foundations would crumble. I could feel some sands upon which my life had been built washing away from under me. There have been times I've clung desperately to the rock that was left, sobbing for help. Some of those times, there was someone to help. Many of them, there was no one.

After the night my ex-husband left for the final time, I had symptoms of post traumatic stress. For days, I got no sleep and for weeks I got very little. Someone would use a word, or I'd see an object that was involved that night, and the world would skip ahead. To others, I would cease to respond for a few seconds as my mind blanked out. Certain interactions, especially those involving any kind of conflict, no matter how mild, would leave me trembling for hours. I'd get flashbacks. And that is only a few of the things that had suddenly become a part of my life for months and years.

This is Water

Recently, I went through and cleaned out my friend list, eventually narrowing it to only 100 people, over half of which were family. I emptied my inbox and changed my life. But I wasn't able to formulate exactly why. With my self-reflective tendencies, I worried that cutting off many of my contacts was a sign of depression, or that it stemmed from some undefined need to exert some control and simplify my life. But today I saw this video, and it resonated with me. THIS is the largest reason why I've been simplifying and making changes.

But for me, it is about religion. Almost a year ago, I looked at my life. It was divided.

Modesty: What's Your Policy?

Sure, hemlines are in the right
place. But is it modest?

You can't be modest and fashionable.

...

Now that the screams of protest have hopefully faded a bit, I'm going to share a few thoughts that I have been mulling around over the last several months.

I have a daughter about six years old. Despite my initial attempts to keep Barbie out of the house, after I decided to change my tactics and let the dolls into the home, she has developed a fascination with Barbies. I have also purchased several Barbie movies, which both of my daughters love. They're not as bad as you'd think. But, predictably, fashion plays a part in all of the stories. Several months ago, she expressed a desire to be a fashionista/model/rock star when she grows up. (The exact title changes, but the idea is the same.) I had a problem with this, but couldn't put my finger on exactly why. At first.

Who wants to waste time
tugging at hemlines?

When I was a teen I rolled my skirt tops like most girls whose parents didn't let them wear whatever they wanted, but relatively speaking I have always been fairly modest and largely unconcerned with fashion. As long as the colors don't clash and the clothes are comfortable, I'm good. It hasn't hurt that I have never been anything close to runway model material, nor that I always had tomboy tendencies. I rarely have a desire to wear anything that requires maintenance. Never having really challenged the LDS standards of modesty, I didn't have an informed testimony of it, just a trusting one. Knowing I'd have to present a good case to my daughters, I decided it was about time I developed one.

Enter Beauty Redefined. Lindsay and Lexie, the founders of BR, conducted a training study in which I volunteered to take part. I wanted to gain some tools to teach my daughters to love their bodies for what they can do, not for what they look like. And I wasn't sure how. The principles of BR are values that I have gravitated towards over the years. I didn't think it would change how I feel about the objectification problem, or that participating in the study would impact me as much as it has.

I Expect Better from a Disciple of Christ

The fine line between calling out bad behavior in others and ridiculing them illuminates the key to Christian unity.

I recently read a very good article which brought to light some hidden agendas and techniques used by a particular group of people to inappropriately politically manipulate an institution to which they theoretically belong. I enjoyed the article, but as seems to happen so often, I became very concerned with some of the comments.

They mocked and ridiculed, rather than expressing charity and concern. And for some reason, I have a harder time with that than I do with people who disagree with me using poor tactics. In fact, just these kinds of concerns have distanced me from groups on BOTH sides of ideological divides who might otherwise be my allies.

Pro-Choice to Pro-Life

What this author describes is similar in nature to my own conversion, though I wasn't as shocked by certain things. It is my education in fetal development that has landed me squarely pro-life in values.

I think the best way to describe my stance is pro-education. I don't think you can wisely use law to prevent abortions. Such use of force only increases the danger. But I favor the use of law to require education before abortion. Let them watch an abortion via endoscope. Let them see and hear the reality of their fetus before they make that decision. No need to use scare tactics, just calmly and informatively educate them and let them make their own decision.

A Call to Repentance: Pants

Okay, ENOUGH. Multiple times, I have been stopped from commenting in any way on those threads which are promoting this Wear Pants to Church day.

But here, on this, I feel empowered to speak.

If people want to wear pants to Church, if they want to co-opt the sacrament meeting for their own agenda, that is their prerogative. So long as they are not interfering with you actually partaking and blessing the sacrament, LET THEM WEAR PANTS. It is a total non-issue.

If you consider yourself a disciple of Christ, if you want to be faithful and exhibit His presence here on earth, if you want His light to shine from your countenance, please, PLEASE stop attacking the people of this movement!

Of course it isn't about pants. Of course the entire movement is a subtle trap, with no winners, only victims. Please don't add to it. Please let it go. It isn't important. It doesn't matter.

What does matter is you allowing your fear, discomfort, anger at the people of this movement to keep you from recognizing them as your Sisters and Brothers. I beg you, please pray for the Spirit to guide you. Please let Him into your hearts on this matter.

Because what you're doing isn't helping. It's only buying in to the Adversary's plan with all this. I can't beg you enough to cease from contention.

Read 3 Nephi 11 and D&C 10. Ponder them, amend your behavior after the pattern they teach. This is your opportunity to invite the Spirit and show forth the Love of Christ. Don't let it pass.