Tuesday, June 4, 2013

A Little Pride





It was a simple thing to do on a beautiful Sabbath morning, but few things in life could prepare me for feeling a love so strong I thought it would knock me off my feet. It took everything I had to continue to walk instead of stumbling in a heap of tears on the Salt Lake City Streets.

A hoard of four hundred plus of us walked together to cheers fit for returning war heroes. There may have been heroes amongst our Mormons Building Bridges group dressed not in soldier uniforms, but ordinary clothes: skirts, or shirts and ties, donning signs that declared love for all, Jesus said love everyone, Equality, and All are alike unto God. Rainbow flags, and banners with emphasis on family inclusion, were held high. The heroes may have been the family there to support their transgender son, who declared not only love for him, but for all like him. Telling news cameras that they wished each family had the blessings that they have had to be able to support their child, and their brother. The heroes may have been the gay couple who marched, arms around each other. It may have been the eighty-year-old grandmother, or the family that marched as four generations of love, or it may have been the man in the wheelchair waving his small rainbow flag. It may have been the many parents who set aside exclusionary doctrine to simply love, as Jesus would have them love. It was hard to pinpoint the heroes amongst us, we looked so much like anyone else, but then that’s the whole point. We are the “alike unto God.”

In a strange reversal of roles I suspect the true heroes were not the marchers, though there were some, the true heroes were the thousands lining the parade route, shouting their love for us, applauding, cheering, crying, hugging, and high-fiving in a way that showed forgiveness, love, and acceptance--to us. The heroes were those who have faced and continue to face day after day discrimination and yet press forward with faith for a better day.  Dreaming for a time when “equality for all” actually means them. I will continue to dream along with them.




Friday, May 3, 2013

Thoughts about Manufacturing the Spirit

In my adult life I've been very leery of manufactured spiritual experiences. I wasn't sure why, but I've been suspicious of treks, special camps, pretend scenarios such as airplane crashes and others that end up being about judgement and rewards and so on. It's been hard to stick to my dislike when group after group of people bear testimony about the life-changing experiences, but I've managed to keep my distance from such things.

Years ago, when I was in a YW's position, one of these manufactured spiritual experiences was being discussed and I got a pit in my stomach. Even though I was not the president at the time, I knew I had to do something to stop it. There was going to be a whole judgement day game and at the end those who had made "right" choices would be rewarded and those who did not would not get the reward of the celestial kingdom at the end. It was just a game after all, so why did I get so sick about it? I discussed the "game" with a friend and she pointed out that the game denied the atonement. After all there was no place in the game for those who had made the mistakes or listened to Satan's voice to repent. And even a game that does that is wrong if it was held under the guise of a church function.

I was so uneasy about the event even though among all my leaders, both in Young Women's and in Young Men's and in the bishopric, I was the only dissenting voice. Plans were underway. With a pounding heart, I drafted a letter that declared why I thought it was wrong and delivered it to one of the leaders in charge. The activity was cancelled. And no, it was not because of my letter. The decision was made before the letter was delivered. One of the husband's of one of the YW's leaders remembered a similar activity when he was growing up and he felt like it was a damaging experience. I was relieved, but somewhat bothered that he was the only one who seemed to know that things that are supposed to be a wake-up call can backfire. Or activities that are supposed to evoke emotion are replaced for true spiritual experiences.

Today I came across this blogpost that hit my uneasiness about these things on the head. Spirit and Emotion can be confused and often are, but they are not the same thing. Read and enjoy.

Sunday, April 14, 2013

A year later and I'm still well, I'm doing better...


Last year about this time of year I blogged about all that had been lost in March of 2012. Our lovely church building was being torn down. Now the new building is almost done. My mother-in-law Ruth died at the end of March and I found I had no idea how profoundly I would feel her loss in my life. Perhaps most debilitating was that for the second time in my life I was going through a period of prolonged depression, triggered by an unending loss of faith which may (or may not) have been triggered by a PTSD/S situation. Feeling low and then lower, I called a psychotherapist who had been recommended, and found she had a one year waiting-list. I told them that would not do me any good, so didn't put my name on this list. I wish I had.


Though one year later, I've made a lot of progress. I feel happy more days than not. I've learned to be more honest about who I am. I'm still learning to not worry about what people think about me, knowing that I'm only responsible for my own feelings and not theirs. A friend, recommend a book called "Mindset" by Carol Dweck. I love it. It's helping me to look at failing or making mistakes as growth. Knowing that there is no growth possible without the acceptance that failing is a possibility. I feel like I'm doing a better job of being true to my conscience. I care more deeply and feel more love for people than I did before this period of loss and depression began. I've made some real positive steps in defining my faith and being true to the what brings peace. I'm learning to listen ever so carefully for the answers. I find them on my daily walks, when I visit with a friend, when I read a story to a grandchild, or when I write my thoughts, or make something in my studio.

Last week I listened to the majority of conference. Besides being happy that they finally asked a woman to pray in the public world wide meeting, there were some gems. One was the talk given by Elder Holland. I felt like he was throwing a lifeline out to me and others who walk on the edge of the waters of faith. The path for me isn't murky, it is quite clear. Where my conscience conflicts with the teachings (or current teachings) of my church, my conscience dictates. My own religion teaches me this over and over again. Stand for truth and righteousness. Pray for personal revelation. Do what is right, let the consequence follow and on and on. What I liked about Elder Holland's talk was that much, but these words stand out. Honestly acknowledge your questions and your concerns, but first and forever fan the flame of your faith, because all things are possible to them that believe. 
Also, I really liked this: "In moments of fear or doubt or troubling times, hold the ground you have already won, even if that ground islimited. ...When those moments come and issues surface, the resolution of which is not immediately forthcoming, hold fast to what you already know and stand strong until additional knowledge comes. It was of this very incident, this specific miracle, that Jesus said, “If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you. The size of your faith or the degree of yourknowledge is not the issue—it is the integrity you demonstrate toward thefaith you do have and the truth you already know.

There was more, but that's enough for now.  

Monday, January 7, 2013

New Year: Time to Rebuild

Life was a little bit difficult more me in 2012. In fact, it was very difficult for me. I remember in my mid-30's sitting in a lesson in the LDS institute and the teacher was talking about trials. At the time, I squirmed a little simply because I didn't feel like I'd had many trials. Then the teacher started to talk about some of the trials he and his wife had faced. I was taken aback. He was talking about not being able to have a fourth child, not getting the job they'd hoped for and so forth. I found myself rating his trials as pretty insignificant. After all, my husband and I had gone through job losses, infertility, health problems, and living very near the poverty level. Yet at the time, none of those difficulties had entered my mind as a trial. They were just part of the journey of life. Judging our trials against someone else's isn't very helpful in managing our own. The thing is I was in a better place in my mind to handle them. Those difficulties hadn't gotten me down. We never really know how much a person can handle until they face that final straw that breaks the proverbial camel's back. It isn't the same for everyone. Your straw might just be something that someone else would rate as pretty insignificant.

That's why judging how someone feels or should feel about their situation isn't very fair. Sometimes when we look at someone else and the difficulties they face, it's pretty easy for us to offer solutions. It's easy to see what they should and shouldn't do to overcome this or that. In the LDS church we have a lot of solutions for people and they are rattled off in any sunday school class: read your scriptures, pray, have family home evening, go to the temple and so on and on. Sometimes those solutions aren't the solutions at all to mend broken hearts and spirits. Sometimes the answer comes outside of those. Sometimes the answers don't come at all. Sometimes it just takes time. Attitude is everything, but making a shift in thinking takes practice. And sometimes it takes thinking that doesn't come sitting in the pews at church. Sometimes we find the answers in unexpected places. That each of us our own our own journey is something we should remember when we find ourselves thinking we know the answers for someone else.

I had some months last year where I felt so much anxiety it lodged in my chest like a rock, only my heart was racing and sometimes I couldn't breathe. Sleeping of course was hard, but waking up even harder. If I tried to tell someone what was wrong, I felt completely ungrateful. I have so much to be grateful for. At the time there was nothing I could pinpoint except the feeling I didn't really belong in my church. My thinking had shifted to the point that I couldn't dwell on what binds our hearts--only what divides. I hit the proverbial rock bottom, and I hope there isn't another bottom even further down, because I'm not the strong person some had perceived me to be.

The Paradise church building like my faith was torn down. As the summer passed I went out of my way not to see the destruction of the building--the reminder of the devastation I felt. I'd been acting for a long time--years. Acting sometimes works and we become the person we've been pretending to be. Or the pretense eventually breaks us. As it did me. I may act confident when I'm shaking inside. I may act indifferent when I care so much it hurts. I may act like a believer when I am not.  Finally though, I started to feel better. I had a "coming out" period where I started talking to people. I admitted that my belief system had crumbled. For me, talking was needed in order to re-build. It may have made some  uncomfortable. I'm sorry that it did. I hope you see that I'm still just me--the same person--with a clearer vision of who I am. I see gray in all shades instead of black and white.

When I felt strong enough I started driving by the church that was being built in place of the old one. Finally one day a month or two ago, I drove by and saw the steeple hanging off of a crane. My heart jumped. It was beautiful! I couldn't believe it. My eyes filled with tears. They had built a bell-tower and placed the old historic bell within it. This wasn't going to be just another cookie-cutter church. The powers-to-be had listened to the voices of the people and saved something valuable. It was a small gesture, but it gave me the hope to be able to re-build my faith piece by piece. The rock work in front was from the old building. It wouldn't be the same, but it will be beautiful. I too, can take something of value and re-build something new.

In a new year, I will work to focus on what unites us. I will work on mending and thriving. I hope I can learn to respect your journey and you will respect mine.

Monday, November 12, 2012

Listening to the Doubts and Questioning of Someone You Care About

Have you ever had a moment when something switched in your mind in an instant? Most ideas evolve gradually, the line upon line kind of progression, but a couple of times my thinking changed immediately. The first time I remember was when our daughter was a fourteen-year-old. When she was twelve and new to Young Women’s, she was fully onboard with the gospel: she read her scriptures, attended all her meetings, gained medallions and so on. Things changed. By age fourteen the difficulty of adolescence set in and she started to balk about going to mutual. This scared me. I was going through my own mid-life crisis which magnified the seriousness of this minor change in her life. I was afraid that if she stopped going to mutual, she might make serious mistakes, ones that could alter her course permanently. Yes, I was making a mountain out of a molehill, but I couldn’t see clearly. In my desperation I pleaded with my Heavenly Father to right my daughter and prick her heart so that she would know how important church and Young Women’s were. Instead He pricked my heart. I had a comfort flow over me such as I’d never had before. The comfort was powerful and undeniable and it was this. She is just fine the way she is. Do not worry.  The feeling changed the way I treated her. I relaxed and my new attitude made all the difference. My worry was eased and the relationship with my daughter was strengthened.


The second change came years later when our daughter was about 19 or 20. On an Easter Sunday afternoon I’d come home after church and was at the stove cooking dinner. Our daughter had been away to a university about two hours from home and had told us that she wouldn’t be able to come home for Easter. So when she opened the front door and peaked inside and said hello, it caught me off guard. When I turned to see her, I knew by what she was wearing that she hadn’t been to church. The look on my face must have registered disappointment because her happy face fell and she said, “Aren’t you excited to see me?”

In an instant, I knew I was wrong, very wrong. I had a moment of teaching. Was it the Holy Spirit who taught me? I don’t know. But what slammed into my mind were these words Shame, shame, shame on you for allowing your values to damage the much more important relationship with your daughter. “Go back out and come in again,” I said. She did. She stepped outside and came in again. “Hello?” This time I ran to the door, shouting her name, hugged her and showed in every way how excited I was to see her. She laughed and said that was better. But what if I hadn’t recovered? What if my daughter wasn’t bold enough, or confident enough to call me on my behavior? I don’t think she knew that what she first saw was disapproval, she may have thought I was indifferent about her visit. Either way, my first reaction was not the right one.

My daughter had skipped church and driven two hours to surprise me on what I had always told her was my favorite holiday. Graciously she allowed me a do-over. As parents we often blow it. Sometimes our words do damage. Sometimes our actions do damage to our precious relationships with family and friends. We don’t always get do-overs with relationships. We never get do-overs with our first reactions. 

As the months and years passed we suspected our daughter wasn’t attending church very often. She’d never told us her feelings about it and we really wanted her to be active, find a good Mormon boy to marry and settle down with. We really wanted her to believe! Deep down I knew this wasn’t what she wanted. Deep down I suspected that certain aspects of church doctrine, especially the temple, were things she could never fully embrace. Still hoping though, every once in a while my husband or I would ask her if she had found the local church wherever she happened to be in the world. Finally one day she said, “I know you think the church is important, but it just isn’t important to me. I don’t feel like I need it… right now.”

I think her adding the “right now,” was to soften the blow. We had raised her with certain beliefs and she was rejecting those. When our children reject our values and beliefs, it’s easy to feel like they are rejecting us. Even though we suspected she had rejected the church, until we heard her voice it out-loud we hadn’t wanted to believe it. It still stabbed me in the heart. My husband was sad too. Later when she told me online that she, “no longer believed.” I felt sad. My fears for my world-traveling daughter sometimes bordered on the extreme, but I have kept going back to that moment of clarity on an Easter Sunday. And even further back to the very real comfort when she was fourteen. Since then, we’ve always tried to support our daughter. I believe she feels our approval not only of what she does, but of her. I wholeheartedly approve of my daughter. She is just fine the way she is.

 Orson F. Whitney taught Joseph Smith’s doctrine in General Conference in 1929 and this has been reiterated several times since by our leaders, “Though some of the sheep may wander, the eye of the Shepherd is upon them, and sooner or later they will feel the tentacles of Divine Providence reaching out after them and drawing them back to the fold. Whether in this life or the life to come…” Comfort for any Mormon parent. What we may perceive as wandering may be a different path, but not necessarily the wrong one. Mark Nepo, a philosopher, said “We grow into truth, one self at a time: questioning, declaring, missing, questioning again. As fruits all are encased until ripe, light comes full term in the dark and truth ripens in the heart. The only way to know the truth is to live through many casings.”

What I have learned as a parent and what I have learned because of my own crisis of faith may benefit others. Here are some things to think about if your son or your daughter, your mother or father, your spouse, your best friend, or someone else important to you tells you that they have deep concerns about the truthfulness of the gospel. First of all, be grateful that your relationship with this person is one of trust. If they didn’t trust you they wouldn’t be able to tell share their innermost fears. Know that the deeper you are committed to the gospel the harder a faith crisis is to admit. Most likely this admission has come very slowly over time. Getting to this point they have exhausted other possibilities. They have tried very hard to believe and they have fallen short. They’ve probably struggled for a long time before reaching out, hoping you will understand. Admitting their truth may be one of the hardest things they have ever done.

What you do when you hear them express their disbelief, especially if it’s your son or daughter is crucial. I know now that I did some things right with our daughter, but I did some things wrong. I wish I’d told my daughter that it’s okay with me. That no matter which way path she’s on, even if it’s not my path, if it brings here peace and joy, then it’s fine.  I wish I had asked her if she wanted to talk about it. Instead of doing those two things, I just didn’t say anything. Worse, I may even changed the subject. Doubt is part of the process, but we are afraid of the questions. Later, much later, we’ve talked about it, but at the moment she needed my support the most, I gave her a hand but not a very encouraging one.  You can take a lesson from me or you can take a lesson from a friend of mine who has a gay son. When he “came out” to her, she said, “So? You are still my son. I love you.” Now obviously coming out for him was more dramatic than someone who rejects their faith, but there are some similarities. Fear of rejection is paramount. You have only a moment to alleviate those fears. Your loved one will do far better if the first thing that comes from your mouth is your unconditional assurance of your love for them. “So? You are still my daughter, my son, my friend, my spouse… And I love you.”

When someone shares his or her fears and doubts, resist the urge to lecture or bear your testimony—right now. It isn’t helpful when someone is hurting to tell them what you think they should be doing or what you believe. Chances are, especially if you are the parent, that you’ve taught them and they know what you believe already. Telling them at this tipping point that you believe the church is true insinuates that something is wrong with them. We are taught as Mormons to be bold in bearing testimonies. You may think if you don’t bear your testimony of faith to the unbeliever you are failing, but we are also taught to bear testimony only when the spirit is right and if you listen, really listen, this isn’t the right time. Bearing testimony can feel like an assault and judgment. The best thing you can do for them right now is to assure them that all will be well. Don’t miss the opportunity to be kind.

Some people assume that those of us who are doubters are sinning. Resist the urge to ask your loved one what they are doing wrong or if they are reading anti-Mormon literature. Resist the urge to ask them if they are still praying. Resist the urge to ask them if they are reading their scriptures. Chances are they have prayed harder than you have. Ask if they want to talk about their feelings. Then listen with all your heart without interrupting. Please keep the trust they had in you. Don’t talk about them with anyone that they haven’t given you permission to talk to.

It’s ok to be sad. It’s ok to even show you are sad. You can say it makes me sad that you are struggling. But try not to infer that your happiness depends upon his or her church activity. If we are the parent of this person it’s very hard, but pinning our happiness on someone else’s church activity isn’t right and it isn’t fair. Now what? Keep being there. Keep the door open—always. Be a friend, a true friend without an agenda. There may come a time when they will want to know what you believe and how you came to believe it. Be patient. Wait until they ask. If they never do, that’s ok as long as your friendship or your love isn’t dependent on that.

 Keep talking about the things that are important to them. If it’s school, a job, a relationship, music, art, travel, computers, whatever—ask them about it. Show your approval for all the things that they are doing right and good.  There is so much that they might be able to teach you, if you listen. You don’t have to pretend you aren’t concerned about church, but don’t let your concern become the elephant in the room. Do not let the church be a wedge in your relationship. If the relationship is broken, chances to heal the broken spirit are lost. We have all our lives and eternity to figure everything out. Remember that and put things in perspective.     

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

I haven't posted for a long time. I just want to share a couple of thoughts. This post by Jared Anderson pretty much says what I've been thinking He posted this in FMHW
http://www.feministmormonhousewives.org/?s=jared+anderson&submit=Search+fMh



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