Enduring Women

I spent a few months really enjoying my regular church attendance, but for the last few weeks, I've been struggling to attend for various reasons. In fact, certain things (which I don't feel like I should share specifically) have made me nearly certain that my path should probably be heading out of the church again.

That is until a blog post I read today.

I've been known to say that "Satan is in the conflict." I specifically used that phrase at a meeting of people with differing views on navigating issues regarding same-sex-attraction within the Mormon church (at the circling the wagons conference exactly a month ago.)

But this time I refer to a different cause and a different conversation where people have very strong feelings and for some people, those feelings reveal themselves within written comments that are not at all Christ-like.

I did not specifically post about this last fall, because I consider myself an ally to this other group rather than one of the members. The group I refer to is represented at OrdainWomen.org. I did briefly refer to my experience in my post about wearing pants to church just a couple of months ago.

When one becomes of a liberal mind, especially within Mormonism, there is no way to avoid meeting other people who are also liberal, but sometimes with a different focus. While my own gateway is of course my passionate support of the LGBTQ community, I have become acquainted with many Mormon feminists in addition to those passionate about other various issues within LDS culture. So a friend talked me into attending the Ordain Women event, and while my daughter and I did attend and I enjoyed doing so, I also spent time avoiding the video cameras (because I am a little bit afraid of how publicly supporting such a controversial event could affect my job), and I actually felt very awkward asking for entrance into the priesthood session. I would have loved to attend as it is always my favorite one to read in the Ensign after the fact, but I knew what the answer would be, and I honestly felt bad for the man that had to handle the situation.

Over the past couple of weeks, I have been thinking about the upcoming event to try again to attend the April priesthood session, and had not yet decided what I personally wanted to do to support it and my friends that feel strongly about the inequality of women within the church.

And then the church sent a letter this past Monday to Ordain Women, asking them not to "Protest" within the temple grounds, but instead in the free speech zones outside of temple square, if they must.

News of the letter hit Facebook, news articles in local and national papers, and many blogs. Comments have been very confrontational and demeaning. All of the turmoil was another reason for me to want to leave my religion behind me. There is so much that concerns me in the way that the church handles things sometimes, and then the way some of the members go crazy with it. I have tired of reading about it over the last few days. My department chair at school, to whom I mentioned my attendance at conference last fall, asked me a couple of days ago not to participate this time, that he did not feel good about my doing so. I had just barely changed my Facebook photo to the one supporting Ordain Women as seen above, but agreed with him that I was not sure I should actually attend the event.

Today a new blog post started circulating (http://rationalfaiths.com/why-arent-the-women-included/), one containing dialogue from an interview with Chieko Okazaki--a former general Relief Society leader who wrote one of my favorite books ever: "Lighten up!"(1993) I always enjoyed listening to her speak in conference.

For some, this blog post and the information in contains may cause further separation and criticism for the church. But for me, it brought memories of this strong, amazing woman and her testimony. If she could endure some of the things that she did in her leadership position, and still maintain ties to the church because of her testimony, then maybe I can too.

Yes, I am still trying to figure out my path with regards to the church, and it might take my entire life to do so. Some might be critical of the ebb and flow of my support of and activity in the church. But I am following my own path, and I try not to judge others who follow their own path, and hope they will give me the same respect. I know some are just concerned for the conflict and unhappiness that it sometimes brings within me. I am too, but I'm sure there is something for me to learn from it, and I am only doing what my heart tells me to do. Meanwhile, Satan is in the conflict and the judgement of one another, and stops many from taking a Christ-like approach to conversing about topics on which they do not agree. All is not well in Zion, I'm afraid.

Here we go again...

Spring is the time when the weeds begin to grow, yes? Okay, really bad joke.

Not going to say much. Just posting this:

http://www.deseretnews.com/article/865597175/Same-sex-marriage-debate-needs-voices-of-hope.html

and this:

http://youngstranger.blogspot.com/2014/02/of-hope-flawed-logic-no-win.html

and this:

http://serendipitystr8wife.blogspot.com/2012/06/recent-hype-over-mixed-orientation.html

Sigh.

'Nuff said.

Goodnight.

Exhaustion

The last two days--as well as a few days and weeks prior--I spent time preparing for and attending the "circling the wagons" conference. I was on the planning committee as well as on a facilitation panel for a straight spouse workshop. (Circlingthewagons.org)

My dear friend John wrote an excellent blog post about the conference that I will refer to here instead of detailing my own experience for now. When the podcast is available for my workshop, I will post it here. I am too tired to rehash what happened there, other than I'll say that I thought it was good.

My favorite thing about the conference was meeting in person the people I've grown to love online on Facebook, as well as seeing other dear friends that I only get to see at events like these.

My second favorite thing about such events is being able to discuss the gospel within the framework of those touched in some way by the gay issue in the LDS church or even just in the Utah/LDS culture. It brings such peace to know I'm not alone in my beliefs and thoughts and struggles. It also gives me great opportunities to learn from those who navigate this journey differently than I do, as well as share my journey in the hope that it will help someone else.

But the process is exhausting, and as I've been tired and depressed this morning, it occurs to me that although my heart wants to be active in the church, and I've learned to handle those things I disagree with, the thing that makes Sundays really hard for me now is that most of my children will not come with me. The youngest, who is now three, is the one that got me going because he loved nursery. The second to youngest, who turned 8 last June, has been attending for a couple of months to prepare and qualify for baptism, which happened February 1st. Now he will not come with me any more. Even the day after he was baptized required a bribe to get him here. I thought he understood what he was doing and wanted it for him, not just for me.

Giving my children freedom to choose to attend church or not is important. They have been down the difficult journey with the church that I have. But since they are still minors, where do I draw the line? Making those decisions and sticking to them is so exhausting. The path used to be clear, and there were two parents directing the children down that path. But now we are completely different paths, neither of which is the one we were all on before.

Just a difficult and exhausting journey to navigate. So not easy being a pioneer.

P.S. It didn't help that the lady conducting Relief Society today, after I wrote this blog post in Sacrament meeting, went on and on about how we need to go to Stake conference, and take our children, so that they can see that we love and support the Stake presidency, and so that the amazing and strong youth can stay on the right path in this wicked, wicked world. Talk about rubbing salt in the wound. I came home and had a good cry. Not that I think my children are doomed to wickedness. And not that everything in the world that she finds wicked is also what I consider wicked. But tough to take when I was already feeling down about my children. :(

Gay marriage in Utah?

'Twas the day after my gay friends began to legally marry.

In Utah!

At first I only saw the decision from the judge on Facebook. I didn't understand that there were actually people getting married, and more lining up to get married, in case it would all be shut down within hours or days.

As usual, it was a stressful day with the kids. In fact, it was the first day of the winter holiday break. So when I actually found out, I was in shock. And then I felt dread--dread for the topic coming up in church because it's all over the news. (I'm actually writing this months after the fact, because I found this unfinished draft in my list of blog posts.) Needless to say, I wasn't as happy about it as I always thought I would be. I wasn't sad about it, but just kind of in shock. My first reaction when I really found what was happening was to exclaim to the children, "Has hell frozen over? There is no way this is actually happening unless hell has frozen over." And maybe it had--the weather had been really cold.

But then the next morning, I woke up early to attend a stake choir practice for a Christmas program the following evening. Each ward was going to perform a song or two, but the concluding number, with a Stake choir and organ and piano accompaniment, was O Holy Night.

As I began to sing and paid attention to the beautiful, well-known words, I was overcome with emotion, I choked up on the words here and there, and I think some tears might have run down my cheeks...

O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining, It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth. Long lay the world in sin and error pining.
Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn. 
Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices!
O night divine, the night when Christ was born;
O night, O Holy Night , O night divine!
O night, O Holy Night , O night divine!  

Truly He taught us to love one another, His law is love and His gospel is peace. Chains he shall break, for the slave is our brother.
And in his name all oppression shall cease. Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
With all our hearts we praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we,
His power and glory ever more proclaim!
His power and glory ever more proclaim!

It was a new and glorious morn. Couples rushed to the county offices to get marriage licenses, full of hope while their friends and family rejoiced! Many people showed love one to another, and oppression of a minority was, for a few days at least, ceasing.

Finally I was excited and emotional and everything I expected to be when same-sex marriage became legal in Utah. And there was no doubt in my mind that the hand of the Lord was in it, in everything falling into place for these wonderful people and families.

What a wonderful Christmas gift to so many this year. What a wonderful, beautiful gift.

Wearing Pants

Today was the second annual "wear-pants-to-church day."

I was not brave enough last year. I figured I was enough of a spectacle even attending church at all, that I didn't want more attention. Also, with all of the media on the topic, I figured people would be curious as to whether I would participate, rebelling against the norm in yet another way.

But this year it felt right. I've been attending church regularly. Also, I participated in the "ordain women" movement, supporting my feminist friends by standing in line with my daughter and asking to get into the priesthood session of conference. I didn't expect to get in, but I was touched by those women to whom this means so much. Also, I thoroughly enjoyed listening to the session on the radio in my car on the way home, and then at home on my TV--the first time the session has been publicly broadcast for all to hear.

So wearing pants to church seemed like something I could do, and I was excited.

But I was amazed at how uncomfortable I felt. We arrived at church late, and though as I walked past one of my friends she pointed to my legs and gave me a thumbs up, and though no one else said anything, good or bad, I felt like I had a large scarlet S hanging around my neck.

It got worse in Relief Society when I was asked to say the closing prayer and then immediately asked to fill in for the chorister. I accepted, of course, but me--in pants--standing in front of everyone. I smiled and sang and gave it my all, the whole time thinking that everyone was starring at me and wondering what in the world I was wearing.

Toward the end of the lesson, I was on Facebook, reading things that my friends were posting about wearing pants to church. One particular article touched me--right before I was supposed get up for the closing music and prayer. 

It wasn't about making a statement. It wasn't about rebellion. It was about empathy, about understanding more fully how out-of-place some individuals feel at church and within our ward families. My heart was touched for those who suffer in silence, for those who feel like they stick out like a sore thumb for being different, even when they actually don't or when no one actually cares or actually judges them for how they are different. But somehow we've created a culture within Mormonism that makes many--if not all of us--feel that way in some way or another.

My heart was full as I lead the closing hymn and reverently spoke the closing prayer. I had walked in someone else's shoes, had felt how they might feel. 

What a great, uncomfortable experience.

Just another day...

I hope no one minds if I post about my evening, which to me seemed as it should be, while others would find it to be incredibly weird.

I had a medical procedure done this morning (ablation, to hopefully eliminate messy, painful periods) and the timing happened to fall on the date my 17 and 15 yo left for a youth conference. In other words, they weren't around to babysit me nor their younger brothers.

Scott lives near the hospital, so I drove to his apartment this morning, he took me to the hospital, and then picked me up this afternoon, leaving the boys for few minutes each time to do so (ages 12, 8, and 3).

We originally planned that I would spend the day recovering  at his place and then take the boys and I back home, but when it became obvious that I was not going to be able to drive myself home yet (due to anesthesia, narcotics, etc.), we decided that we should stay overnight. 

But Scott already had a date planned; a second date with a guy he likes that seems to like him back for once. I want him to be happy, so I honestly felt no resentment in just planning for him to keep his date. I tried to find someone to come stay with us for a couple of hours, but no luck. So we would all be in the care of my flighty 12 yo.

The evening was uneventful, thank goodness, and now I am sleeping in Scott's bed while he probably will be up all night working (freelance graphic design) to support our two households before his client meeting in the morning.

Just a day in my life, LOL.

Building Bridges

Wow. I know it has been forever. So, so busy with job and five kids. And I guess I kind of abandoned the blog after one of the comments called me whiny. And I now have other "secret" forums where I am more likely to vent the whiny stuff.

But I have to share a quick experience.

I've been attempting this month to go back to church on my terms. I've managed to make it at minimum to Relief Society and at most the entire three hours for the past four weeks. When there is a lesson I'm not really into, I distract myself with my phone, or grading papers, or last week, crocheting flowers. :) Or if the teacher is one that I know in particular is difficult for me to listen to, then I will just find someone in the hall or library to talk to and sluff that portion. I really think I am probably going back more for the community and the friends and less for the gospel messages, but I get a bit of spiritual nourishment in the process.

Over the last year to 18 months I have probably averaged attending at least one meeting or class at church about once a month. And the times that I have been most reluctant to go back have been when I've felt inclined to make a comment that lead to awkwardness and sometimes a feeling of conflict within the room. So over the past month, I have pretty much kept my mouth shut.

This past Sunday the lesson in Relief Society was from the 2012 October General Conference: "I know it. I live it. I love it," by Ann M. Dibb. The teacher was a substitute and a sister in the ward that I don't really know. She indicated that she liked her lessons to be more of a discussion, so she asked questions and expected participation. One of the main topics she threw out to us toward the beginning of the lesson was whether or not any of us had been in a circumstance where we had a difficult time admitting that we are Mormon. As I pondered the question I thought, well yeah, now I think I sometimes don't want to admit it. But it's not really admitting it as much as it is that I am in a different place with Mormonism--less active and not believing everything any more. So sometimes I will say that I am sort of Mormon, or I'm honest and say I am Mormon but that I don't go to church very often. I never would have hesitated admitting my religious affiliation at all before my crisis of faith.

Anyway, I was sorta thinking through all this when a thought went through my mind and I decided that maybe I should share it. I hesitated at first, but that was okay because there were lots of other ladies participating and sharing their stories. Finally I raised my hand bravely and shared something like this:

"Many of you know that I have gay friends that I would stand up for. I am the adviser of a gay-straight alliance at the high school where I teach. Inevitably the topic of Mormons comes up once in a while with these students, and the Mormon-bashing begins. When that happens, I stand up for Mormonism by telling them that I am a Mormon and that I don't judge them and they know that I love them."

For once I said something that did not seem to make everyone awkward. In fact, the teacher began sharing a story about a gay man at her work that was hesitant to get to know her at first, that he might have expected that based on her age and religion that she would be judgmental of him. But soon he learned that she wasn't at all what he expected and they became good friends.

Another lady (that I also didn't know) shared another story about a gay friend of hers. I was amazed! I had used the "g" word in the room, and it did not catch on fire. The spirit didn't leave, and no one appeared to get tense and uncomfortable. I've always felt like I wanted to get people in my ward talking about the gay issue. Not about what is right and what is wrong and what is sin and what is happening to the morals of this world we live in. But about people. About love. About acceptance. About children of God.

This positive experience makes me want to continue to go back and to watch for opportunities to build bridges.