Motherhood and Mechanical Rabbits

"Behold, there are many called, but few are chosen. And why are they not chosen? Because their hearts are set so much upon the things of this world, and aspire to the honors of men...."
—D&C 121:34-35

"Mother" was once a word that struck me with fear. As a teenager, I knew I had a temper problem. I knew I was not cut out to be a parent. When word came directly from the Lord to me that His calling to me was to be a mother of "many souls", I was rocked to my core. After much inner struggling, I determined that if that was my Lord's wish for me, I would try to be the best mother I could be.

I spent a decade wrestling with inner demons, praying with all I had, to be changed into someone who could handle parenthood. I went through a 180° change. My heart was softened, I mastered my temper, became a wholly different person than I was. The vision I had been given fell apart over certain events of my life. My life now looks like what I first thought I wanted: very different from what I was led to believe it would be, but in the process I have learned a respect for motherhood that some might call "fetishization." (I have also earned a similar respect for fatherhood and priesthood, but that is a discussion for another post.)

Sustaining Failure

"But as for me and my house...."

This is a refrain I've read often recently, mostly from people who support the Brethren of the Church to those who are struggling with recent policy changes and the claim that those policy changes are revelation from God.

While I resonate with that sentiment: to "claim the privilege of worshipping Almighty God according to the dictates of [my] own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege..." I can't help but feel that it is a way to shut down discussion, to draw a line in the sand, and to condemn those who are wrestling with this concept. In that I have no interest.

It is with this in the back of my mind that I read again the words of Brethren from over forty years ago, and prayerfully ponder what I should write. I am very grateful to be invited to participate in the General Conference Odyssey, but I admit to feeling a little out of water. I do not write the great analyses that others write. I don't tend to place things in historical, doctrinal, or philosophical context. My blog is very personal, just as the name suggests. It is about two things which are really one thing: publicly sharing parts of my struggles with God in the hopes that seeing me try to shore up my house against the storms of mortality will encourage others to do the same, to build their house on the rock of my Redeemer. My relationship with God is not all that I am, but it is the part of me that I most want to share. It is the best thing I have to offer the world...or the tiny part of it I can reach. I know that I am nothing, but I will write of the miracles of God in me as best I can.

Liminality And Shaded Areas

In Elder William H. Bennett's 1971 Conference talk, "Help Needed in the Shaded Areas," he compares color blindness to a person who is seeking truth, but will not humble himself, exercise faith, or live the gospel. You might expect that a conference held that long ago would be largely irrelevant, but of all the talks that day in Conference, this was one of two which I needed to read.

Because in many ways, I am in my very own "shaded area." The magic numbers hidden in the shaded area are the promised blessings we get for being righteous and doing the right thing.

Religion and faith to me has largely meant fighting to hear and understand the Lord's will for me. It's been a struggle to learn submission, to understand my place in God's plan, if any. I have placed that struggle, that fight to submit, at the center of my life. I'm not any better at it than anyone else, but I thought I knew what it meant to be in tune, to hear the voice of the Lord, and to be His disciple. It was a feeling of warmth for me, a brief sense of belonging...of sudden balance. Like the sparkle of sunlight through storm clouds, or the thrill of sliding on a sled after tugging it up the steep hill.

The Priesthood

I love life. I love the smell of rain, the feel of my daughter's hair on my face as she cuddles into my shoulder. I love the ability to create, to make things better than I found them. I love watching people struggle and move forward with faith. I love being there for people, being someone they can talk to and want hugs from. I love watching things grow, the changing colors of the mountains, the sting of cold air and languid exhaustion after a day of hard work.

But, at the same time, I don't handle life very well. And a fews weeks ago, I was struggling with something very deep and personal which I will not get into here. But as I prayed and struggled, I kept feeling this urge to get a priesthood blessing.

I have good home teachers, a great man. I have a father who lives not too far away. I work in a building stuffed full with men who hold the priesthood. But I realized I had no one I could ask for a blessing. I just couldn't bring myself to do it.

Behold Your Little Ones

When I was a young teenager, I sat on the ground at the edge of a large pavilion. It was dark, and I was surrounded by other girls and women. It was Young Women's Camp, and it had been pouring rain for three days.

We had an old, military-issue canvas tent, the type which leaked water if you touched the sides. We were soaked, our food was cold because we could not keep a fire, even under shelter. The wind had blown down some of the tents, and two of the wards had gone home. When the leaders of our ward had asked us, my two best friends and I wanted to stay, and we convinced the two other girls to agree. Which is why, clutching flashlights and huddled together, I was among those who were left under a tent which, for the first time since we had pitched our tents, did not patter with raindrops.

I loved it. The air was scented with Austrian white pine and rain. We had seen enough sunshine to dry out a rainwashed set of clothing. We had carefully started a fire, gathered around the tent, and prayed. One at a time, people got up to bear their testimony of the Savior. One of the younger leaders, a girl who seemed at the time to be so old, had just returned from her mission. There was nothing unique about her testimony except that, as I sat there, I was suddenly overcome with the knowledge that I, too, wanted to serve a mission.

Years of change followed. I decided I wanted to change my life around, clean up my language and my thoughts, be a better person. I went to college and prepared to serve a mission. Many things happened in those years, but eight years later, I opened up my mission papers. Six weeks after that, I stepped off a plane onto German soil.

A Glorious World

When I was no more than seven, I remember gently removing the shed skin of cicadas from the slat-wood fence in my parents' backyard. We would gather roly poly bugs and watch them curl and uncurl. One of my greatest ambitions was to find a queen fire ant, so I could have my own colony. I kept a careful eye on the date tree in our front yard, finding out that coconut trees and date trees were very different things.

I asked millions of questions, and stored the answers in the back of my mind. I climbed olive trees and dreamt of dinosaurs flying overhead. I read every book I could get my hands on, immersing myself in the stars, in the layers of the earth, in learning about peach trees and honey bees.

When we visited my grandparents, I followed one around and fed his calves and goats. The other taught me about herbs and roses. I learned that spiders love grape arbors, and that dog food doesn't taste good.

Later, I looked into the maw of a dormant volcano, smelled the sulfur pits, watched humpbacks dive on the horizon. I gathered and preserved sea urchin, learned about man o' war jellyfish, and how to pick blackberries with minimal scratches. Everywhere I lived, there were new explorations and always, always more to learn. What I could not learn by experience, I learned from books. Sometimes, I feel as though I have lived dozens of lives in my short years here.

For God Loved the World; Pain and Valentine's Day

This is my daughter's newest favorite song. It has long been one of mine as well. I think it has one of the tenderest aspects of doctrine in the Gospel. This year, that same daughter is making the decision to be baptized. It is something filled with mixed emotions for me, most of which I don't want to get into. But on this day, when we celebrate love, I want to celebrate both loves which changed my life: the love of God and the love of my children.

I am far from perfect, especially right now. It has seemed, especially lately, that the church is leaving me behind. I don't feel a part of it. I don't feel a part of the Lord's Kingdom. And that hurts. If I could put my finger on one thing I want more than anything else, it is to feel like I belong, like I'm part of accomplishing something good. And I don't.

But as I wrote some time ago, I feel as if the Lord wants me here. Nearly four years later, I still don't know why. Not much has changed. I have a burning testimony that the Gospel is true, I just don't know how I fit into it. And I'm watching my precious child, with many of the same self-critical personality traits that I have, prepare to make this huge covenant. I'm proud of her, and terrified for her.

The True Meaning of Christmas

I'm a woman, which means I get irrational at times. (Men do too, but in different ways.) And yesterday, I kind of broke down.

See, over the last several weeks, I've had a series of mild illnesses. A chest cold, which is lingering. A stomach bug, not serious but unpleasant, and my most recent acquisition, a sinus cold. On top of that, I've been trying to get back into my exercise routine. I've slacked on it for a year now, and I don't like feeling sluggish. Basically, I feel physically beat.

And yesterday, it snowed all day long.

They Shall Not Sorrow

Conference brought me peace, but it was not so for everyone. I intended, at one point, to write my perspective on several of the events surrounding Conference, and the applicable talks, but as I have watched discussions and listened, my heart was moved. I feel it doesn't matter how I see a fellow sister or brother in the Gospel erring, nor how I perceive that they have been deceived. What matters most right now is that they hurt and mourn.

I do not really share that mourning, though I believe I understand it. I have been burned by unrighteous male authority many times, myself. I have struggled with some of these same issues for nearly two decades. My journey through those struggles has been far different, but not so different that I cannot feel compassion. And what touches my heart more than the errors of those who find themselves feeling at odds with the Church leadership is the rush to harm them by people who ought to be most filled with the compassion of the Savior.

There are enough people telling others they are wrong. We need more people focused on hearts and tender feelings, offering sympathy and love.

A Man, A Woman

When I was a missionary, I was not a very good senior companion. I drove myself very hard, and my companions were along for the ride. This is probably why I never trained anyone. My failures as a senior companion—the "presiding" role in a companionship—illuminate principles of divine leadership and power. What does it mean to preside? What does it mean to nurture, provide, protect? What does it mean to be a good wife, or a good husband? How is the Lord's power different from mortal power?

My thoughts on this topic are a product of my marriage, my dating, the Family Proclamation to the World, some feminist mores, conversations I've had with people, and my observations of others' approach to romantic relationships, divorce, leadership, and parenthood. I talk a lot to people. I'm interested in them, in learning how they deal with life, God, and others. My opinions do not come only from my own experiences, though they are of course filtered through my understanding of others' experiences.

I know most feminists and liberals read the Family Proclamation to the World (the Proclamation) with a critical eye. To them, words such as "preside" conflict with "equal partners." But I have learned to delight in the balance it strikes. It is a remarkable document, especially considering when it was issued. In a recent conversation with my brother about dating, I realized it is what I want out of marriage.

About Not Belonging in the Church You Belong To

When I was a teenager, my family moved to a town within the Mormon Corridor. (Western-ish U.S.) For the first time in my memory, I lived among a significant percentage of fellow Mormons. During this time, a friend of mine accused me of several things that I did not do. While no one at school believed her, some of the members of my ward did. They would whisper in the bench behind me, calling me Jezebel. My lessons in Young Women were pointedly pro-chastity. I was called into the bishop's office for a detailed interview. Fortunately, he believed me. He was the only one (besides my parents.)

This was the first time in my life that I was the target of someone's concerted manipulation of others to hurt me. Church was a nightmare for me, and I grew to hate it. But I knew that not all Mormons could be like that. A desire to prove it to myself contributed to my decision to attend BYU. There, I learned what I went to learn, that Mormons are not as cookie-cutter as people like to think, and that there were others like me who believed as I do.

But that feeling of being an outsider has never quite faded.

A Mirror of Imperfection

An hour and a half past bedtime, I rocked my weeping 6-year-old daughter. She was really too big to fit into my lap, but I cradled her, folding her in half so I could hold her without my arms giving out. The litany of "everybody hates me" and "Cami/Alexa/Ana/Mia were mean to me" and "I accidently touched someone when I was putting my coat on, so I had to sit in the office for recess" and "I laughed with my friends and my teacher punished me" garbled and mumbled through wild tears had been going on for a little over an hour.

At one point, I wept with her in the dark, silent tears running down my cheeks as I tried to sniff quietly enough she wouldn't notice. It only makes it worse for her when she senses I'm crying too. But by now, I was numb, whispering "there-there's" and "shhh, it'll get better" as if they were magic spells to ward off the pain she was feeling.

I was helpless. Her fears and anxieties were all too familiar.

The True Power of the Atonement

This post isn't about one person in particular. It's not even about solely romantic relationships. There are several experiences I have in the past and present which combined led me to these thoughts. Some of the specifics I have healed from, others still trouble me from time to time.

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I have had a lot of practice in the more recent part of my life exploring forgiveness. Some of the things I have had to forgive have been huge and blatant. Others have been quieter, but specifically designed to attack my personal weakness. Some have been forgiving myself for that weakness.

I am not even sure I know exactly what forgiveness is. Where is the balance between learning to distinguish good and evil and judging unrighteously? How can you learn from your mistakes without becoming calloused? Is forgiveness not being hurt any more, or is it simply not wishing the offender any harm? The latter is incredibly easy for me, but I have struggled mightily to achieve the former.

I've been pretty beat up and I'm not healing the way I feel I should be. I know that those who have offended me don't care one whit about it. They have moved on, and are completely unscathed. So why am I left holding the hurt? Why am I having such a hard time letting it go when that is what I want more than anything?

Why I Pay Tithing to the LDS (Mormon) Church

When I was a child, my parents taught me budgeting. Of every dollar I made, a dime went to tithing, fifty cents to long-term savings (for education/mission/marriage,) twenty cents to short-term savings (like that camera or art supplies I was saving up for,) which left me twenty cents to spend right away, should I wish.

When I was a kid, I hated watching my money ticking away like that. Of course, that was before I started working, and realized that a tenth of my money goes to tithing, a third goes to the government, and at least half goes to bills, leaving me even less than twenty percent to spend on food, etc. Who would have thought it was so realistic?

But that isn't why I pay money to the Church, including tithing, fast offerings, and occasionally other funds. My reasons are much more personal than that.

He Knows My Name

At times in my life I have found it too painful to pray. Communing with my Father means facing a whole lot of things I can't change, and can't do anything about. At these times, I pray in the sense of routine, but really praying, I am able to do only in small, manageable pieces.

But I know how much I have been blessed. The hard times I have been through in my life could have been so much worse, and are for so many people. I don't know why I have been so carefully, tenderly watched over. But I am so grateful to Him. Despite my occasional anger. Despite sometimes feeling betrayed and so alone.

When I do get the courage to pray, I feel Him there. I feel His love envelope me. And I know that I can trust Him to fulfill every promise He has made, and every righteous yearning of my heart.

Even the ones I can't do anything about.

Choosing Bitterness

I would like to briefly share a few things I have learned over the last few years, and particularly the last few months of my life. Everyone in this life is presented with choices to make. Perhaps one of the most difficult is to choose joy in the midst of affliction over bitterness.

The scriptures are rich with examples of the difference in reactions between people presented with much the same choice. The most obvious one is between Nephi, Sam, Laman and Lemuel. They were all given the choice to follow their father into the wilderness. Although all followed, they did not all follow the same way. Laman and Lemuel chose to complain, eventually succumbing to bitterness that shaped a nation's wars for the next six hundred years. Nephi and Sam chose to obey willingly.

Interestingly, Nephi, Sam and their descendants suffered equal sorrow from the choices made by Laman and Lemuel as their cousins.

This tells me that we cannot choose whether or not we will suffer sorrow in this life, but we can choose whether or not to turn to the Savior for healing. He has not been spared bitterness Himself, but He has promised that through repentance we need not suffer. For those sufferings we endure which are not the cause of our own sin, God has promised "beauty for ashes" and "joy for mourning".

We cannot enjoy the fruits of the Atonement without understanding it. It is Christ who has given us the chance to learn to distinguish between good and evil, bitter and sweet. Nor can we always make restitution for the things we do wrong. There is a point where we must humble ourselves, realize that we cannot do it, and turn it over to God. This can be even more painful when others in our lives continue to expect us to make things better which are out of our power. But Christ is the only one who can truly heal, and we must trust Him.

We must trust Him.


Resources:
Beauty for Ashes, by Elder Bruce C. Hafen

Unsaid Sermon

I realize it was posted some time ago, but I just finished listening to a Mormon Matters podcast containing a Sunstone speech on the unsaid sermon. The unsaid sermon is essentially the cultural guilt we feel when hearing the positive spiritual experiences of others. An example would be if a member testified of the blessings they have received for not watching PG-13 movies, and a listener feeling that they are somehow less worthy for watching such movies. While it was interesting, and certainly explored a very real occurrence in Church congregations, and although it approached what I feel to be the most important aspect of this occurrence, I feel that the way it was discussed missed emphasizing a vital point.

They continually mention the "false cultural doctrines" and "false notions" perpetrated by this sort of testifying. In fact, the very term "unsaid sermons" indicates that the person speaking is the one perpetrating these sorts of notions. They miss that the unsaid sermon is not a sermon from the speaker at all, but more accurately, a misinterpretation on the part of the listener.

I believe this to be an important distinction because the connotation to their approach is that we should be more cautious and less free with stories of how the Lord has blessed our lives as a result of certain actions. Removing or even reducing these uplifting stories does not solve the root of the problem: a basic misunderstanding of God's ways and methods.

While the speaker, Dr. Bohn, certainly focuses his points to remedy the situation on self-behavior, a thin thread of misleading information creeps its way into his phraseology. For example, his eighth point "Assume responsibility for our feelings and commitment to the gospel of Jesus Christ instead of reacting to other members’ well-meaning, false notions and cultural doctrines," begins focusing on your own behavior, but ends up shading blame on other members. Those "other members" are well-meaning, but full of false notions and cultural doctrines, according to him. This is harmful addendum to an otherwise good point.

If I claim "I have made a personal covenant with God not to watch PG-13 movies, and this has blessed and purified my life. God has protected me from evil because of it," I am not testifying to either a false notion or a cultural doctrine. I am not trying to say that because I have ceased watching such movies and have been blessed, all members should do the same. In my life, I have made such a covenant and God has blessed me. I am testifying that the Spirit led me to make a covenant which has helped me personally. The take-away message focuses not on PG-13 movies, but on the act of covenant-making and/or letting the Spirit guide you to how you can purify your life. It also testifies that seeking to purify your life and acting on the Spirit's guidance will gain you blessings from God. The problem is not a false notion, but a false focus on the part of the listener. That listener is grabbing onto the thing in the testimony that will gain them more guilt, not trying to listen for the real message and see how it might apply to their own lives. They are throwing away their right to Spiritual guidance.

Take the story of the stripling warriors in the Book of Mormon. One of their examples covers this exact tale. In it, 2000+ young men take up arms to defend their fathers who have taken a covenant to never kill another person. Because of the faith which was taught them by their mothers (and fathers), they are preserved. Although all are injured in the subsequent war, none are killed. This is used to show how a mother of a child killed in war might feel guilty. Perhaps she and her son were not as righteous. Perhaps she didn't teach him strong enough faith.

What this thought misses is that there were many righteous Nephites who were killed in that story. Yet, this miracle was not only a blessing to the young men, but to the whole army. The take-away is not if you are righteous, you won't be killed. It is that the Lord is mindful of us, that faith will strengthen you, and that from time to time the Lord will bless our lives with miracles. Sometimes the Lord's blessing comes in the form of preservation, but in the perspective of an eternal, omniscient, loving God, sometimes it comes in the form of death. The key is to trust that God will protect His faithful when and how He can to bring to pass their immortality and eternal life. God's promise to deliver those young men was specific to them. Another faithful person has another calling. Neither life diminishes the other, but rather strengthens a true faith in God and His love, and knits those lives together into the body of Christ.

The most powerful story that illustrates this concept is found in Daniel. Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-nego, Daniel's four friends, are pure and faithful, but face death in the furnace. In one of the most poetic and powerful statements of human history, they declaire, "O Nebuchadnezzar, we are not careful to answer thee in this matter. If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king. But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up." Esther's story which peaks with the declaration "If I perish, I perish," shows no less vibrant, powerful faith. The key is in the faith, not in the miracle.

If we water down our testimonies of God's hand in our lives in the interest of sparing other people self-manufactured guilt, we reject the chance to share our joy. I have often felt the power of unsaid sermons in my life, but I recognize that the problem is mine, not the speakers'. It is Satan whispering in my ear, focusing my attention on the details of the story rather than the moral.

While Dr. Bohn has a good point, and good ways to focus on changing yourself and your attitudes, an important place to start is to cease thinking of others' experiences and personal perspectives as intrinsically wrong and realize that they are not wrong for sharing their life experiences and showing how God has blessed them. They are simply asking you to find joy with them.

Letting Your Temple Recommend Expire

I firmly believe that most gospel questions can be answered by an appeal to scripture, with modern revelation clarifying points. Our high councilman spoke to my ward yesterday and mentioned something, however, that I have been unable to clearly answer. He said, "If you let your temple recommend expire, those blessings are temporarily shelved." I believe "those blessings" to which he was referring were the blessings of the temple. It caught my attention, because I am not sure I understand what he was driving at or fully agree with what he said.

So, I did what I try to always do: research it in an attempt to gain understanding. I have found several talks from various sources that discuss temple recommends, but I haven't found anything that exactly resolves my confusion. It seems to me from the sources (listed below) that the temple recommend is a physical symbol of spiritual worthiness. One blessing the recommend provides is the ability to attend the temple. It is true that if we do not have a current recommend, we cannot enter the temple. That is certainly one blessing that is shelved. I feel that many blessings to which he was referring, including the protection of the covenants, are not shelved. Even if your recommend temporarily expires through inattention or inability to renew it for whatever logistical reason, you have still made the covenants. So long as you are living up to those covenants, you should receive the blessings of them.

What are your thoughts on this topic? There is very little chance for an appeal to authority or for him to explain what he meant by his quote, unfortunately. I would like to ponder it out until the Spirit can lead me to an answer. Others' perspectives on the issue would certainly help.

Sources:
Women's Manual
Elder Nelson
Elder Robbins of the Seventy
President Hunter
President Hinckley

The Visions and Blessings and Glories of God

A recent conversation about the second anointing and receiving the second Comforter has me formulating some things into words that I haven't before. I apologize if I'm awkward trying to get my meaning across, I'm not sure how to say what is in my heart right now.

Sometimes there is so much pain and discipline in the Gospel of Christ, we forget about the blessings and glories. Because the blessings come after the discipline and pain, some people never see them. How I wish I could show them! It's amazing to me how things which were only words can be magically transformed by the Spirit of the Lord into profound teachings. Even the simple sentence, "I know God lives!" can seem trite, empty, and even controversial on the surface, but when communicated through the Spirit receives inexplicable dimension and beauty.

It is one thing to see Christ in vision and another to receive the second Comforter, to come to the point where you are truly communing with Him as a friend. There are those alive today who have that glorious relationship with Him! How I long for that. How I ache after knowing Him that way again! How I wish I were not so full of sin as to still be separated from my Redeemer! When we are commanded to receive Him every week in Sacrament, we are being pointed towards this great experience. Not only do I believe it possible to receive this in this life, I believe it is God's true goal for us. Everything else builds towards that true communion with the One who snatched us from the depths of separation from Him. What could be more glorious than to conquer Satan completely and fully while still under influence of the Fall? If we do not receive it in this life, I believe that God is merciful and we will still be able to receive Christ in the next life, but I believe that is our truest goal.

Those who have seen visions from God and received the second Comforter so often find themselves weak in communicating. All we have objectively are words. It takes a subjective quality in the receiver and in the teacher both to truly communicate these things. Even I, who have not yet received anything of such import, find myself struggling to define the things I have been given. No one can teach it to another any more than the virgins could share their oil because the same words undergo such a indescribable transformation once a seeker is ready to understand the deeper meanings. That can't be taught, only invited.

I want to be with Him again. If He sees fit to grant that to me in this life, I will be even more grateful than I already am. But if not, still I will never give up trying. I will never set my sights lower than communion with my Savior. Flashes of the Spirit are not enough for me. It is not enough for me to taste the bounty of the Gospel, I want to feast upon it.