How to Help Me Stay?

There are no comments here on my previous post, but I have observed some Facebook conversations about it which made me think I definitely need to clarify.

I didn't write "How I Stay" so that I could get pity or compassion. I didn't write it to guilt people who happen to have intact and more-or-less working families, nor to tell people in wards that they're doing something wrong. I wrote it mostly to people like me: people who struggle and need some tools to fight harder for what they really, deep-down, want. But this one is to people who aren't struggling, and want to know how to help. I'm going to try my best to give you some tools to try.

The fact is that me and people like me KNOW we are different. There is nothing you can do to make us feel not-different. All your efforts in the world can't erase the pain we've felt as collateral damage in someone else's attempts to "be true to themselves" or whatever other reasons lurk behind our lives.

It's like I told a friend recently: you can't be responsible for other people's feelings. But what you can be is compassionate. And I think that's what the questions and comments are really getting at: how can you show compassion and make space for difference?

I have a few thoughts on that, but first I want to point out that "divorced people," or "people who have lost children," or "people who struggle with the Word of Wisdom," or "people who struggle with pornography," or "feminists" or whatever other category leaves someone feeling on the fringes, are first and foremost PEOPLE. Every single individual has individual needs or hopes. Don't take my word for what will help them. Ask them.

Secondly, don't expect them to tell you right away. Most of us are well aware of our other-ness. We often feel like burdens, and abhor the thought of being more of a burden. Granted, some of us accept as much help as we can get. I'm not one of those, and based on observations, I think that those who gladly consume others' resources are a vocal minority.

So, first search your own soul. Do you REALLY want to know what we need? Because it's probably going to cost you something, even if that "something" is nothing more than your own paradigm. If you really want to know what we need, you're probably going to have to ask more than once. You're going to have to show that you really mean it, and you're not just offering to assuage your own guilt at being more blessed/differently blessed/luckier than we are.

So with those caveats to what I'm about to say, here goes my attempt to give you some concrete tools. I'm not trying to share specifics of what I personally need in my situation as a divorced single parent, but to share more general tools to help approach anyone who doesn't quite fit into the standard Mormon mold. Please take what I say and apply it to whatever circumstances surround you. It may be that it doesn't help, but I hope it does.

No Rules, No Promises, No Happy Ending

"A certain man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves, which stripped him of his raiment, and wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead."
—Luke 10:30

Have you ever noticed that not many of Jesus' parables have an ending? We don't know what ultimately happened to the good Samaritan. Was he rewarded for his deed? Did the wounded man heal? What about the five virgins who were turned away? And the man with the one talent? Did he learn from his mistake?

Contrasted with the stories we tend to tell each other today, where sacrifice is rewarded and sorrow is always temporary, we are left wanting to know what's next. There is some primal part of us, deep in our psyches, that yearns to know that the good guys "lived happily ever after." Walt Disney built an empire on it.

My life isn't an "okay in the end" kind of life right now. I'm being held in a liminal state, where I know where I want to be, I think I know where God wants me to be, but I have no idea how to get there. It is sheer agony for someone who has always worked for a goal, tried to become something.

That happy ending seems impossible from this end of the very long, dark tunnel. So I've been digging deeply into my heart, learning to let go of tomorrow's ending so that I can dive into today's opportunities to minister. I'm not very good at it yet, but the seeds of true charity are starting to sprout.

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.

Beautiful Sorrow

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

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

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

To Forgive or Not to Forgive?

. . . verily I say unto you, I, the Lord, forgive sins unto those who confess their sins before me and ask forgiveness, who have not sinned unto death.

My disciples, in days of old, sought occasion against one another and forgave not one another in their hearts; and for this evil they were afflicted and sorely chastened.

Wherefore, I say unto you, that ye ought to forgive one another; for he that forgiveth not his brother his trespasses standeth condemned before the Lord; for there remaineth in him the greater sin.

I, the Lord, will forgive whom I will forgive, but of you it is required to forgive all men.

And ye ought to say in your hearts—let God judge between me and thee, and reward thee according to thy deeds. D&C 64:7-11

So how does one forgive another? How do you know when you have forgiven? Is it possible to be frustrated and forgiving at the same time? What if the person is still doing the thing that requires forgiveness, and has no foreseeable feeling of repentance? In that case, the wounds are perpetual. Such a case requires constantly working to forgive the newest wounds.

What if you are not seeking "occasion against" the person you are trying to forgive, but you can't quite get rid of feelings of hurt and frustration? What if you want to forgive, but don't know how to let go of the pain of what they have done because it is still ongoing? Forgiveness belongs to the Lord because only He "know[s] the hearts of all the children of men." Is it enough to want to forgive and to seek the Spirit, hoping that your feelings of anger and resentment will fade? What if those feelings are building because of repeat offenses and future consequences that you will have to pay? How do you let it go?

I'm afraid I'm not forgiving very well right now. I'm terrified of the consequences of not being able to find forgiveness. I have done so many things wrong myself! I'm begging for forgiveness myself. As long as I feel resentful and hurt, I don't think I can fully repent of my own weaknesses and mistakes. I want to let go. Usually, I'm uncannily good at letting go, but not this time. What does that mean eternally? I think I'm at a point where I have to pray to forgive and say, I want to forgive, then when forgiveness comes, I'll welcome it.

I'd welcome any suggestions that might speed things up. I hate feeling this way.

Men Are That They Might Have Joy

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

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

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

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

Lift Another's Burdens

This is especially to you, M&M, because you are one of my angels who I know will eventually read this.

Mosiah 18:9: Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, that ye may be redeemed of God, and be numbered with those of the first resurrection, that ye may have eternal life—

I'm going through a rough time right now, rougher than I ever anticipated. Most of the time, I'm doing alright. Every now and then it all overwhelms me and I feel like I can't bear any more, that my heart can't break any further. Every time this has happened, the Lord has sent one of His servants to me, sometimes the Spirit and more often one of his mortal disciples. I am so humbled by the service these few souls have given me. I couldn't make it without you. Thank you for living your covenants. Thank you for reaching out to me.

I hope the Lord blesses you for your service. For me, there is no price I could pay great enough.