Female Ordination: How to Stop Hurting

This is not my typical feel-good, soft post. I'm going to say something very harsh here. I am truly sorry to further wound those who are already in pain. But I have been wrapped up in a cycle of pain regarding the Church myself, and from that position I feel that I need to speak up, say what I need to say, even if I'm not loved for it.

You're looking for justification for women not having the priesthood. You think that, if the Church doesn't ordain women, there has to be a reason, even if that reason is just because God says so. You are frustrated and upset because you haven't gotten a "clear answer" that satisfied you. You don't feel valuable in the Church because you're not getting the answer you want.

And that is why you are missing the entire point. Because you assume that the prophets and/or God have to answer to you, give you what you want how you want it, you are causing yourself nearly unbearable pain. The justification, the only answer that you're going to get is that the leadership hasn't implemented it. Full stop.

The reason you don't understand the prophets' actions, or the stance of those who follow them is because your underlying assumptions have already taken you to a mode of thinking that is incapable of comprehending them. Take a step back from your assumptions for a moment—I know it is very, very painful and difficult, but try.

Damaged Goods

Elizabeth Smart recently commented on the evil of teaching people that their worth is tied up in their sexual inexperience. I agree wholeheartedly with her. Of course, "teh interwebs" has glommed onto her words and twisted them to attack the Church. Which is all really quite boring to me, same story different details. Except for one thing.

I have been a victim, too.

I have written before why I stayed in my marriage. When I was married, I felt like the least wind could shatter me. I was constantly worried about what I said and did. I would hang up with friends and family as soon as my husband was due home because I wanted him to feel my love and attention. I would do activities only after they had been suggested by my spouse, because I wanted to be available for him. I endured two years of torture because I wanted him to be satisfied and pleased. I watched our money drain out like water through a sieve, and felt guilty that I wasted money if I bought something for the house. I went to counseling in hopes that I could be fixed so that the "communication issues" in my marriage could be resolved. But nothing I did made him feel loved. No changes I made helped me communicate with him. Things only got worse the more I tried. Eventually, the marriage deteriorated. I ended it only at the strong promptings and counsel of the Lord, and to protect my ex-husband and my children.

The news can give people a wrong idea about domestic violence. Only the most egregious and horrifying stories hit the news. But once someone has been injured or killed, the entirety of the work of abuse has already been wrought. Abuse isn't first about being hurt. If it was, anyone would get out. But abuse is first about duty, love, obligation, about feeling like if only you worked a little harder, did a little better, things would change. It is an emotional landscape which is carefully terraformed by the abuser. And it works best on loving people who try to be selfless.

For this reason, I keep chewing over the discussion surrounding Elizabeth's comments. You see, I believe that I'm damaged goods, too. It's not something that counseling can help me with. Because it isn't in my mind or reason. It's in my heart and experience. They are a lot harder to convince. Especially after I've tried to convince myself time and time again, only to fail.

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.

The Dark Dance of Dating

I have called off "dating." This doesn't mean that I don't go out on dates any more (though it might, since I'm no longer going to as many singles events,) but that I'm rejecting the entire Dating Game. You all know what I'm talking about. If you don't, go watch reruns of Bachelor/ette and walk away sadder, wiser, and disgusted.

I'm not blaming anyone for creating the morass that dating, especially LDS-Singles-of-a-Certain-Age dating, has become. I think it is a byproduct of overachievement, advertising, and the detachment of social skills. But that's a whole 'nother diatribe.

Let me outline the problem, and see if I can't offer an unrealistic solution. (Why else blog about it, after all?)

Surviving Domestic Violence

I have had much opportunity over the past six months to face again various emotional wounds that I sustained in my marriage. It seems that every facet of my life is offering the chance to test the limits of my healing. I have been disappointed with my inability to easily shake off the frustration and the fear that these challenges bring. I'm perfectly fine 99% of the time, but then something comes up that triggers all the old muck, and I feel like I've made no progress at all.

But as I have prayed about this and discussed it with two friends patient enough to listen to me, the Lord has shown me that I AM over it. I AM healed. I'm just going through the physical therapy part of my recovery. When something happens to stir up the muck at the bottom of my clear and placid pool, I realize that the muck is less and less each time. It settles more quickly. The twinges of pain from my healing emotional bones are becoming less, and they fade much more swiftly.

That is something to celebrate!

Facing the Mirror Gate

"There was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure. For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me. And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness."

In my last post, Howard asked a good question that I cannot simply answer in a comment. Knowing that I had begun this post years ago and never quite finished it, I decided to bring it out of the "Drafts" cedar chest, shake off the dust, mend a few tears with things I have learned since, and use it as my answer.

I am a fairly introspective soul. Using others as mirrors to see myself, I try to gain a more accurate picture of who I am and who I should be. Unfortunately, this has led to the poor character trait of letting others define me, something I'm having a horrid time shaking.

Of course, we should ideally use God as our mirror. As He said to Moroni, "if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness," and then He will make those weaknesses strong.

In one of my interviews, my first mission president asked me a question that has weighed on my mind ever since. He asked if I knew how God feels about me. The thought terrified me. Still terrifies me. Not long after he asked it, I tried to open myself up to understanding how God sees me. I succeeded somewhat, but I have not yet been able to truly let go and feel it. Perhaps a part of me is like the weak knights, who "ran away screaming" when they saw who they really were. Yet I feel that this is part of my journey to understanding charity.

Now, as a mother, I believe I understand something of God's love for me because of how I feel about my daughters. But there is a part of me that cannot accept that a divine being could feel that way about me. There is a part of me that is convinced I am not worth that, and I am afraid of the expectations that come with it.

Although I know, intellectually, that love towards me could exist without expectations of behavior, I have never experienced it. I have no framework for it. Now that I have children, I have a little framework for it from the other direction, but it is still inconceivable to me that I could be the recipient of such a love, though I know it must be so.

I am coming to believe that this is a large part of why I don't really want to try to find an eternal relationship. I know that until I learn to accept God's love, I cannot accept mortal love. That is probably why I allowed myself to accept a cheap substitute for love in my failed marriage. That is probably why real friendships make me nervous. I'm always anticipating my failure of the hidden expectations on the part of my friends.

I don't think there is really any way to prepare to look into the Mirror Gate. I know I can't do it when my children are around, and I've succeeded in busying my life to the point where I really have very little time alone any more. So in a week or two, instead of planting or weeding, knitting or sewing, dating or playing, I plan to take my journey.

Wish me luck.

Starving for Validation

Not long ago, I wrote a post that mentioned that validation is one of the things a recipient of abuse desires most. And, although I am essentially healed from my marriage, the scars still pull sometimes.

For example, as I was sitting in General Conference listening to Elder Holland speak, I was overwhelmed with an intense desire to know the Apostles personally. In analyzing that, I realized that I want to know them in part so they can tell me that I am okay in the sight of God. I shouldn't need them for that, but the desire to be told by His servants that I'm okay was almost overwhelming.

I occasionally read blog posts dealing with various aspects of marriage. Cheating, for example. Because my ex accuses me vociferously of emotionally cheating on him, and there is some evidence that he might have emotionally and possibly physically cheated on me, such a topic draws my attention. Even now, over a year after the divorce, whenever the topic of cheating comes up I can't help but obsess about the accusations all over again. Did I really cheat? If so, how? What was it I did wrong? Should I have refused to speak to any male outside of a public sphere? Should I have not been open with my spouse about male acquaintances? The questions just keep mounting ever higher.

I am reminded of a plea which has always touched my heart, but which resonates even more with me now, "What could I have done more for my vineyard?"

What more could I have done for my marriage?

It's not an obsolete question, because I am afraid of making the same mistakes I made—whatever they were—again. I would do almost anything for someone I could trust, someone who knows the Lord, to give me the answers, to teach me what I did wrong.

In short, to validate me.

But I must come to accept that I will never be validated by anything but the Spirit of God working in my own heart. I can't look to the apostles, or people online, or anyone to validate my decisions.

Just me and God. And I don't know that I can do it.

Being a Lady

Although I used to have no time for such silly nonsense, I have developed an appreciation for courtly graces (as in courteous graciousness).

For example, I was at a singles event not long ago, and there was a point at which tables and chairs had to be folded and put away. Although most of the women moved to the sides and let the men handle the "hard labor," I helped without thinking much of it. This is pretty typical for me, and I have observed a few different reactions by the men.

Some don't notice. Fair enough.

Some rush over and grab the whatever out of my hands and do it themselves. Thoughtful, but certainly not courteous.

But this last time, one man came over and helped me fold up the table. Every time I grabbed a table, he grabbed the other end. I would thank him, and he'd wheel the table away while I started folding up another one. By about the third table, he grinned at me and said, "You really shouldn't be doing this, you know."

I said, "Yes, but I'm not the type to sit on the sidelines and watch other people work." And he just smiled again and nodded agreement. He didn't try to stop me, but he was aware and courteous enough to assist me.

This is the essence of grace.

Now, I could choose to be all offended and see his assistance as a message that I can't take care of myself, or that I'm weak. But even if he had been one of the ruder examples above, it would be demonstrating extreme gracelessness on my part to choose offense, especially when the offender's motivations would be trying to be thoughtful.

I have found myself being less gracious lately, and I want to change it. There is no benefit demonstrating my irritation with certain things, and every benefit in accepting things that are less than ideal with poise.

This goes for things in the Church as well as in my own personal interactions. Sometimes Church leadership deals with things in ways I don't like. But that is no reason to grump around at people and make my opinion known. I really, REALLY want to work on being more gracious.

So that's my spring resolution. Now I just need to figure out how to do it.

Thoughts and Intents

As I was researching a few scriptures for a post to Mormon Momma, I came across this scripture in Doctrine & Covenants 6.

Behold, thou knowest that thou hast inquired of me and I did enlighten thy mind; and now I tell thee these things that thou mayest know that thou hast been enlightened by the Spirit of truth; Yea, I tell thee, that thou mayest know that there is none else save God that knowest thy thoughts and the intents of thy heart.

Suddenly, I had one of those epiphany moments, where you feel that the Spirit has been a bird, waiting for you to read those words so He could swoop down on you and testify that they are meant for you. I have been having a really rough time for several years, now. The details are far too personal, but I have been wracked with self-loathing and -uncertainty because I feel that a major decision I made - despite feeling that it was of God at the time - was wrong.

But this verse and the Spirit have testified to me. I did ask of the Lord. I thought he did "enlighten my mind." Though I had had doubts, I can't deny that I felt the classic lightening of the mind when I asked if my choice was the right one. I feel that the Lord is promising me that I was indeed enlightened of the Spirit, and not my own desires.

I have been struggling especially lately with a feeling of worthlessness to the Church and to the world at large. Many people have corroborated this feeling. I still don't understand why people are so intent on telling me how and why I am a failure. But here, the Lord is telling me that no one knows my thoughts and intents save He. Whatever my social skills, whatever my behavior, He knows how I intended to be. He knows my desires. Therefore, only His opinion can count for anything.

I really need to get myself back to the point where I commune with Him. This distance is tearing me apart. Perhaps this verse is the key to softening my heart. Perhaps I can cast off the shackles of popular opinion and learn once again to serve the Master of my heart.