Disappointed or Relieved?

It has been a really strange day, filled with all kinds of emotion that I don't really understand.

Today was the premere showing of "8: The Mormon Proposition" at Sundance.

Some friends suggested Scott and I come with them this morning to the Queer Brunch at Sundance.  Scott RSVP'd for us a few days ago, and yesterday I finally made a decision that he should go have fun with the boys while I stayed home to take the kids to church.  Besides, it made me not feel as bad that I have a ticket to tomorrow night's showing of the documentary while he doesn't.

It was not a bad morning. Going to church by myself with the kids has become routine, and although it is still not what I would like to be doing, it is not as bitter as it used to be.  Everyone was friendly, as usual. None of the additional people in the ward (from our boundary changes) have yet asked me about my lack of husband. The talks were benign.  The kids were fairly well behaved.  There was nothing that should have made me feel badly at all.

But as Sacrament meeting progressed, I began to feel this shadow come over me.  I began to feel like I was on an alien planet, like I didn't belong, everything going on around me as though I wasn't even there.

The meeting ended, and my 4-year-old insisted that he did not want to go to primary.  I wondered if he was not feeling well, but after I told him he could stay with me, he acted fine, playing and talking with me like usual.  I told him he needed to be quiet in Sunday School with me, and he was, playing quietly with some finger puppets we brought with us.

Since I felt like I was in the wrong place anyway, I decided to take him for a walk.  He asked me if I was taking him to Primary.  I said maybe, and he pulled against me. So I said no, let's get a drink and go to the bathroom, and he was fine. I tried having him peek in the primary room to see his class.  Again he pulled me away from the door with  all of his might. His teacher came and tried to get him to come in, but he wouldn't have it. So he and I went to the empty Relief Society room to wait.  A room full of empty chairs, and I sat on the floor and sobbed. I texted Scott for comfort.  He figured I was freaking out because of the documentary.  I was actually glad to have my child with me, to help distract me and keep me company.  I sat at the piano and chose songs for Relief Society, and he made up his own tune on the piano. "Left, Right, Middle" he said, as he played the notes. He ate the old chocolate coins I had in my church bag. He continued to play with his puppets.  He sat on a chair and said, "Look Mom, I can be quiet."

As women started to trickle into the meeting from Sunday School, the primary president came and took him to class.  He went willingly, like as if he knew that my need for him was done and he could go. A friend (who happens to read my blog) came and sat behind me, and teased me for texting in church.  I told her I was chatting with Scott, that he might be able to buy a standby ticket for the documentary. I started to cry, telling her how nervous I was.  She comforted me, reminding me that I was only standing up for what I believed in and following the path that I thought was right for me.  The worse thing that could happen was someone could come bomb our house.  I knew she was just trying to make me smile, and it worked.  The Relief Society president came and gave me a hug.  I told her it was just the pregnancy hormones, not like there is anything else going on in my life. :) We laughed together as I dried my tears, the shadow of the last hour starting to fade, and my emotions and mood going back to what I would normally expect them to be at church.  I chose songs that comforted me, that applied to me, like "Do What is Right", "battle for freedom with courage and might", and this one:

Hymns, Guide Me to Thee, no. 101

1. Jesus, my Savior true,
Guide me to thee.
Help me thy will to do.
Guide me to thee.
E’en in the darkest night,
As in the morning bright,
Be thou my beacon light.
Guide me to thee.

2. Through this dark world of strife,
Guide me to thee.
Teach me a better life.
Guide me to thee.
Let thy redeeming pow’r
Be with me ev’ry hour.
Be thou my safety tow’r.
Guide me to thee.

3. When strife and sin arise,
Guide me to thee.
When tears bedim my eyes,
Guide me to thee.
When hopes are crushed and dead,
When earthly joys are fled,
Thy glory round me shed.
Guide me to thee.

    Text and music: Orson Pratt Huish, 1851–1932

As we were leaving church, Scott texted and said he had been able to buy a ticket; the premeire started in five minutes.  I was excited and anxious to get his report. I spent some time on facebook, and then took a nap until I heard back from Scott.

His news: there must have been some final editing since I emailed Reed, and I was not in it.

I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.  I wanted my voice to be heard, but you, my readers, know how anxious it has made me, how I have assumed that my Stake President has been waiting for this before getting back to me about my recommend.  So it was a relief.  So much for being famous. I'm not cut out for that anyway.  That was not my intent, and if I really want to stay active in the church, it was maybe not the best thing to be associated with anyway.

When Scott arrived home, he told me about the documentary.  I do not often see him cry, but cry he did as he told me about some of the things that Reed included, like gay homeless kids in SLC that have been kicked out by LDS families and openly admitted that they have no hope, like a little girl who thanked the Mayor of San Francisco for her mommies (the effect this all has on real families), like the actual words of church leaders to members in CA that Scott said were gut-wrenching for him to hear.

So, tomorrow, when I attend the documentary myself, I will not be nervous, but I will be sure to take lots of Kleenex.  I really hope that this film can make a difference for those who have followed church leaders blindly in promoting politics, that they will truly realize what they have done. And I am not ashamed that I was able to interview, and that my story and voice were heard by those who have heard and seen that interview.  Maybe it made all the difference for one of the people in that room, knowing that there are church members like me and my daughter that care so much.