Enough

Written by St. Jude

Maybe it’s enough to just feel the sun on a given day, or feel the rain bouncing off our bodies. While we go about our days worried over our choices of religion and how it’s affecting our relationships with our family and with God, we become completely blind to the day and the moments that surround us.  We wrap ourselves in worry, guilt, and fear, insulating us from the very simplicity we seek--the moment we stand in. We don’t own anything in this life. Families transition as easily as the landscape of up and coming cities as well as dying ones. We can only claim two things as our own in life: The moment we are currently in and space we take up within that moment and both are in constant transition.

I have spent endless hours poring over my faith and how to define it. More often I am left to wonder if I will ever define it and if I finally do settle on a definition I can’t help but wonder if it will turn out to be nothing more than a philosophy of warm fuzzies lacking just as much basis in reality as the religion I left.  I have pored over books, googled  for answers, and spent countless hours posting on boards set up to support those who have lost their faith thinking maybe I don’t have to reinvent the wheel after all. Surely people smarter than I have already asked these questions and have found the answers I’m looking for. But after losing myself in this search for so long I realize that answers only lead to more questions, more questions to more doubt, more doubt to more unanswered questions and while the cycle becomes all-consuming, life is marching past my window without me.  This is too high a price to pay in pursuit of finding answers to things that have gone unanswered long before our being here and will go unanswered long after we leave.

Maybe for some of us our time is better spent asking the questions that have answers; What does that grass feel like on bare feet, how hot is that pavement, how tight can your child or grandchild squeeze you with the biggest hug they can give, what do rocky mountain oysters really taste like, can I do one kind thing for a stranger every day for a month, how many leaves are on the branch I look out on every morning while I enjoy my breakfast…?

Two things, that is all we have, the moment, and the space we take up within that moment. At death the moment is gone and the space we take up will only be granted to us six feet below anyone’s view. Right now the space we claim has a much better view than the one will hold when we die. So what lies within your view? What’s in the space you’re sitting in right now? Is their family? Have you really engaged them today? Maybe a great view out that window? What’s the temperature of air that surrounds you right now? What sounds can you hear? Is there silence? Can you feel it?  Maybe living in the moment, asking questions that you can find answers to, is where we find God. If not, the very worst we can do is find ourselves.

I’m sure there are plenty of people who will read this and argue the importance of asking the difficult questions and the nobleness of a life spent in pursuit of those answers. If you are enjoying your journey, then who can fault you? But simple as it may seem, I have found answers to questions I didn’t know I was asking by asking the questions I could find answers to. For me, this is a much more enjoyable journey. Now, if nobody objects I’m heading outside to see if the clouds have cleared, the temperature has dropped, and can I see the stars tonight.

Our Thoughts: From the Peacewriter Writers- Celebrating the Peacewriter's 100th Post

  

To celebrate the 100th post, several of the writers on the blog put together their thoughts about the journey, finding peace, and accepting the paths others around us choose as well.  

From St. Jude:

Ex-Mormon, Inactive, Jack Mormon… we slap a title on them and think we have them all figured out. But the reality is under that label is a husband, a father, a daughter…

Imagine if your life was celebrated rather than judged. Imagine if we could all stop judging each other’s lives and start celebrating them. What if today we stopped referring to people who have left the church as an apostate, or deceived, or lost? Maybe today we could refer to them by a standard not set by a church; rather we could call them a good man, a good mother, a loving son, a compassionate daughter. What if today we stopped judging them by a belief system; today we are only allowed to judge them fairly, from our heart and what we know to be true about them.

No church can compensate for a family’s love and support.

Can we give ourselves permission to celebrate the lives of those we love even if they chose a path other than our own? D &C 64:10 I, the Lord, will forgive whom I will forgive, but of you it is required to forgive all men.” This is what unconditional love looks like. These are your children, your parents, your friends; they are not commodities that should be set at distance because they don’t agree with your world view. Do your family members really have to attend church to receive your love and support? If you’re answer is “I do love them but…” that “but” is a fail marker. Can you say a prayer for their happiness that doesn’t include a miracle to bring them back to your vision of how their life should be? Time is ticking away from all of us.  How much time has to pass before we can see there is so much more to a person than a belief system.

For those who have left the church, this unconditional love is a two way street. It’s ok for you to be happy for your family members who are going off on missions, marrying in the temple, spending their Friday night date night at the cannery. Your vision of life is not their vision of life, but it makes them happy, and brings them peace. Happiness and peace should be things we hope for each other. Its’ ok to ask “ How was the temple?” It won’t kill you to hear them say how they felt the spirit and received what they feel was an answer to prayer. It won’t kill you to say “that’s great, I’m glad you had a good experience there.”

All of us need to take off the rose colored glasses of judgment that we see each other through. Stop looking from outward sources at these people we label and see them from your heart, See them with love and compassion, find a reason to celebrate life with them, not in spite of them. It won’t affect your own salvation, but then again, being a little more Christ like just might. 

From Angela:

Mormons draw on history to affirm their faith. They feel the angst of young Joseph as he kneels in the grove of trees, the worry of Emma (his wife) when her husband is imprisoned, the hope and fear of men and women as they cross the plains in search of religious freedom. 

These things are in the past, but many of us feel them in the present. The pain and anguish of our ancestors become our own pain and anguish, cementing us together not only as a people who believe in a similar theology, but as a people grounded in a common past. This isn't an easy thing to leave behind.

From Tom:

I have spent a good deal of time of my life as a firm believer in Christ, God and the authority the LDS church claims it has.  And after going through my personal crisis of faith, I’ve spent the last four years in a state of unbelief and uncertainty.  It didn’t take me long to realize that I’ve been trying to walk on a path with very little footing.  My foundation had been ripped out from under me and I was in a place of trying to rebuild my spiritual identity from the ground up. 

So in these last few years I’ve encountered a great deal of hurt, anger, pain, betrayal and permanent damage from many people who have gone through a crisis of faith of their own.  Some find a “home” in their anger, or resentment towards the church.  I understand that.  I’ve also seen many people burn bridges with family and loved ones all in reaction of losing their faith in the church.  In fact, I’ve been one of those who burned a few bridges of my own and I regret that.  So I am now in a place where I am more interested in building bridges, rather than burning them.

This place, this blog, was created by a dear friend of mine.  This person said to me, “wouldn’t it be great to have a place where people could find peace and solace through each other, regardless of beliefs?”  And it was our own Stephanie’s words that immediately became the motto for this place.  Loving and accepting words. 

I still have my phases of anger towards the church.  No doubt.  I have trouble with things said to me and my family that I firmly disagree with.  I currently reside in a forced position of having to navigate these crazy waters.  Would I like to not deal with trying to sustain a relationship with the church?  Yes.  Would I rather leave the church and permanently damage my marriage and family relationships?  Absolutely not. 

So why this place Tom?  Well, in my four year journey thus far I’ve seen how much beauty there is in other people.  And I don’t give a flying shoot about what they believe anymore.  I don’t have a single ounce of missionary intentions in me any longer.  I have NO interest in converting anyone one way or another.  What I am interested in is hearing and seeing what works for people and what they have gone through to be who they are today. 

I have recently become involved with suicide prevention.  Hearing stories of those who have lost a loved one through suicide will change you and as I continue to be more and more involved with those involved I will continue to change. 

I am not a wise person.  I don’t have any good and lasting answers for people.  I can share my experiences and hope that something I’ve gone through can give peace or possibly spark an idea for them.  I am in a position with more questions than any real answers.  I recently told a friend that I feel like I’m a sponge, just trying to soak in as much as I can to help me get a better perspective of where I’m headed.  I am still trying to build a spiritual foundation for myself.  So, I’m still on the ground level spiritually and I can often get overwhelmed with how much work I need to do. 

So I would like to personally thank all of The Peacewriter readers for coming here by, reading, sharing and leaving comments.  But I really want to give a virtual hug of sincere thanks to those who have come here and contributed:  St. Jude, Oliver, Ingrid, Mel and most recently Angela. 

But I would most like to publicly thank Stephanie.  Because without her, this place would not exist and so many of these powerful words that have had a direct influence my life would have never been spoken or written. 

I consider myself just a fan.

From Stephanie:

Recently a friend posted a comment on a message board that went something like this:

I don't know that any of us have to understand why other people choose to remain active or maintain affiliation with the church and others do not. What works for some people does not work for others.

My thoughts exactly. 

The power in that quote is in the acknowledgement that there are different paths to choose and for those of us who live on the fringes, it is nice to have someone willing to back you up, no matter where your path is taking you.

Like many others who have been down the same road I have yet to find a road map that tells me what comes next.  The way is different for everyone.  For me, it has become about a quest for peace and a place to belong.

The vision for The Peacewriter was a simple one inspired by an amazing friend whose life choices reminded me that there is value in finding a middle path, of working through the hills and valleys and finding peace along the way.  In the beginning I was angry and wanted to destroy everything I could that reminded me of the Church.  But the example of my friend and the words of others taught me that I was going from one black and white worldview to another.

I wanted to create a place where people could come and talk things through, to find peace through words and thoughts and ideas.  To some, the words may seem harsh or even critical at times, but to others, there may be something resonating.  And maybe, another traveler might feel less alone on the rocky and winding trail.

I hope we have accomplished just that.  I want to dedicate this 100^th post to the many writers who have shared their thoughts and made this place just what I hoped it would be.  My journey has been made bearable by reading their words and feeling the love of the friends who have crossed my path.  I can only hope The Peacewriter has given others a place to find peace as they traverse their own paths.

Being Still in the What Now

In the moment we recognize that change is imminent, that what once stood as the status quo in our lives no longer aids us but suffocates us, we are forced to take action. I’m not talking about the smaller day to day changes I’m talking about the big changes in our lives, the ones that take courage to confront our false beliefs, examine our relationships and get honest with ourselves about who we are and what is really important to us. I don’t know which is scarier; the moment we recognize change is imminent, or the moments that follow after the change has been made.

When all is said and done this deeply personal house cleaning we’ve just undertaken leaves us standing in a void of “What now?” There are plenty of unknowns in the “What now?” Vision is 20/20 when looking back at who we can no longer be, but what we will become is far less clear. We are left with very few answers and it’s tempting to rush out and find them as if having all knew answers will help us justify to others why we have made the choices we have. I don’t know if there is a right way or wrong way to deal with the “What now?” moments, but a lot can be gained if we will just allow ourselves time to stand still in the “What now?” Sometimes the right changes come about in the quiet waiting periods of our lives if we can just be patient.

Instinct drives a caterpillar into a chrysalis. Something tells it that it’s time for change and rather than just waking up one day and saying “I think today I will be butterfly.” it goes into a period of isolation and waiting. It really doesn’t have to do anything for changes to come about in its “What now?” phase, it just waits.

This waiting period is where I am at in my own transitions. I worry that I will just stay dangling in this self-woven chrysalis from one season to another; never growing, incapable of change, just isolated watching as the seasons pass by only to end up the same person I was when I wove this chrysalis. Right now I am neither caterpillar nor butterfly.

The caterpillar doesn’t have the capacity to contemplate the future, or failure, it just is. It hangs there, oblivious to the possibility of change never taking place. It’s completely in the moment. What didn’t exist in its form yesterday exists today; the past is gone. Today it has the nubs of what will be wings. It doesn’t think about what it will be tomorrow. It doesn’t worry how big it’s wings will be, what color will they be, what if it’s not strong enough to break out of the cocoon. What if a strong wind blows it off its limb down on to the sidewalk and someone steps on it? Maybe it should have spun its cocoon in a safer place. Isn’t it time yet? How much longer will it have to wait? What if it misses that window of opportunity? What if only a few hours after drying off it’s its wings a bird swoops down and eats it… what if… what if… what if?

Shhh-the caterpillar just is. It hangs quietly in the sun, wind and rain. It wants for nothing it struggles against nothing. It simply lets nature take its course.

This inability to dwell in the past or worry over the future is probably why butterflies don’t come out of the chrysalis completely neurotic, flying aimlessly about while worrying how much time they have left, is there a bigger flower out there somewhere than the one they are currently on… Instead they bask in the sun until their wings are dry. They gently exercise them opening and closing them to a slow rhythmic cadence. Once in flight they are quiet, gentile creatures with no worry of what’s next, they are just grace in its present moment. Tomorrow it may be a gross display of butterfly anatomy on your windshield. Today, it just is.

So far I have learned that the best I can do is wait out my time in this chrysalis. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow is only what my imagination hopes and fears it will be. Today is the best thing I have going. There is a lot to be said for counting your blessings; it forces you to focus on today. If you find yourself in one of life’s major transitions, count your blessings, focus on what is good right now. While we are busy doing that rather trying to find quick answers in an attempt to avoid our discomfort, Spring will come.

When I finally transition out of the “What now?” phase of my life I won’t miss the waiting, the self-doubt, the uncertain future that surrounds me. But I would like to think I will look back on this period and see it as a necessity, as valuable to me as the chrysalis is to the butterfly, that without it flight would have been impossible.

Now about that windshield; I probably won’t see it coming. The only thing left after impact will be a pair of wings swirling in the airstream of the passing car until they fall unnoticed onto a hot Arizona highway in the middle of nowhere. But at least I didn’t die a caterpillar.

Watch Where You’re Walking

Back in the late 70s I remember hearing a talk in church about the gospel being like a fast moving train. The premise of the talk was that here in the last days those who got off the train would never be able to make it back on and would be left behind. The speaker mentioned that in years past people could leave the train for a while and go off and experiment a bit with life and the world, and when they were ready they would be able to hop back on the train, lessons learned. But those days are gone, and he cautioned us that those who get off the train are in danger of never making it back onboard. I remember sitting there thinking why would anybody want off?

Years later I was on a train going across the midlands of England when for no apparent reason we came to a rather quick stop in the middle of nowhere. I told the person next to me that I thought we were being robbed. She laughed. Turns out we were. Even though the signs were there, I didn’t look for the exit. I sat there and waited for the men to come into our car. I figured things would be ok because after all we were missionaries so nothing bad would happen to us. And so I sat there and waited for the train to start moving again.

My Journey on the LDS express turned out to be a lot like that evening in England. While traveling happily along, occasionally the train would seem to stop for no apparent reason, alarm bells would sound and I would convince myself it was fine. Sure enough the train would get moving again. A few years back I had that old familiar feeling that the train was losing speed. But this time would be different, this time I was not going to let it slow. And so to strengthen my testimony, give more steam to the engine, I dove into church history. Turns out I didn’t need to wait for the train to slow because I was about to open the door and jump.

It would be nice if the Latter-day Express came with a car that would allow the non-believer room to ride a long, keep their family together, and still have that wonderful community that makes up Mormonism. But only believers are allowed on this train, leaving you with two options, stay and fake it, or get off. I am pretty sure I have sprained an ankle, hit a few rocks, and I am still nowhere near the end of my tumble. For everyone who gets off the Latter-day Express the reasons are different. How they choose to disembark also varies. Some walk safely off at the next station as the train slows, others find the emergency pull cord and bring the whole thing to a screeching halt while everyone they are traveling with yells and screams and demands answers. And then they make their exit. Others like me just jump off in the middle of night and wait for everyone to figure out that I haven’t just left the car momentarily to go to the bathroom, I’ve left the train.

The fascinating part is that as train cars pass good intentioned friends hang out the window and ask “What the heck are you doing? Look at you walking, you could get lost out there. Now just get back on the train, and stop being silly.” Should you come across a rattle snake or be in need of water, they are quick to hang out the window and say “Well what did you expect would happen? If you had just stayed on the train…” Night comes, it always does. In the distance wolves howl and it’s easy to lay there in the dark remembering the safety and shelter of the train, because mixed with the night sounds of the howling wolves is the persistent chug of the engines that once rocked you to sleep; destination, destination, destination… It’s tempting to run back to the certainty of what’s familiar. Some do.

As a passenger on the Mormon Express it doesn’t matter what’s going on outside the windows of the train, what’s important is that you reach your destination. Destination, destination, destination…the train whispers on its way down the tracks. You’re not happy--it’s ok, you will be. There is nothing you need that is not on this train. Being really happy, isn’t what’s important in this life, enduring this train ride to the end, that’s where real happiness is. That’s where eternal happiness is. It’s sad isn’t it, how those not on this train think they are happy, but we know, ooohhhh we know, that without the safety of this train no one’s happiness lasts forever.

The big question ticket-bearing passengers ask me is how am I going to get to my destination? They want answers; they want to know I at least have a plan. Which is ironic since no other mode of transportation in this life is acceptable to them how could I give them a good answer? I tell them I don’t know, but I know it won’t be on that train.

It’s common to hear church members make the comment that those who have left the church can’t seem to leave the church alone. It’s like they think I’m going around with my spray can painting graffiti on the sides of the cars. Many who jump would love to leave the train far behind, but those tracks run through every aspect of our lives. When your whole family is still on the train, you don’t wander far from the tracks. Many jumpers lay in bed each night with a ticket-holding spouse and huge piece of track lying between them. So yes, for many jumpers our new course never veers too far from the tracks, but at least we are free to travel as we choose.

I honestly believe that once you get off the train it allows you to focus on the journey. The world outside of the train is nothing like what I was told. There are good non-train riding people on bikes, skateboards, cars, airplanes, golf carts and even people who are content to go it alone without any assistance and walk it--all fellow travelers, enjoying the journey, enjoying their families, their communities and living lives of integrity.

For me the word destination no longer reverberates throughout my whole being. I prefer to travel without the aid of any ecclesiastical help. So for now, I’m walking this journey. In the fall and rise of my footsteps it’s not longer about what I hear; it’s about all that I see. It’s about my choices being mine to own and dealing with life and consequence in the here and now. Hopefully my choices make my journey and the journey of those around me more enjoyable. If you have left the Latter-day Express, I hope you find a mode of transportation that allows you to enjoy the journey. As long as we can do that, the destination will take care of itself.

In The Spirit of Christmas

There is a common thread that runs through the holiday season like a draw string on a purse bringing us all together for a common good. Belief in Christ or worshiping Him have never been a prerequisites for participating in Christmas. There is no 10 question interview that pre-qualifies you to light a tree, send Christmas cards or buy presents. If you don’t believe in Christ or have friends who don’t believe you can even buy Christmas cards that say “Happy Holidays” and avoid the whole religious aspect to it. No one will ask you if you believe that Jesus was the son of God. Do you believe in God? Do you believe Jesus healed the sick and performed all manner of miracles? Do you believe he died for your sins? When was the last time you entered a church to worship him?

There are pockets of people who get upset at the nonbelievers who piggy back on the holiday celebration. Heaven forbid an atheist donate time or money to feed the hungry or provide warm clothing and gifts to total strangers at Christmas time. And what could the atheist possibly be thinking helping the economy by giving gifts during a holiday they don’t believe in? Fortunately believing in Christ has never been a prerequisite for “Peace on earth, good will toward men”.

For the believing crowd there are aspects to the holiday that simply get ignored. The fact that we are celebrating the birth of Christ at the wrong time of year doesn’t matter. So what if he is the Son of God, a matter which if true demands our respect and reverence, but we’ll decide when to celebrate his birthday. The fact that Christ wrote nothing down as far as giving us firsthand accounts of what actually happened during his life we look away from, it’s easier to believe it’s all in God’s hands than to question the accuracy of stories recorded decades after the subject has died. It can be easy to ignore the fact that while we huddle around a fire with family looking at a tree full of gifts underneath it, others are going without, hating the day for reminding them of what they don’t have. I guess you could echo the sentiment that “Some things that are true are not very useful” when it comes to Christmas.

The fact is this is one flawed holiday if our focus is to be on birth of the son of God. And yet I think that is one of the most endearing aspects of it. We are all flawed, Christian, atheist, wiccan, deist, doesn’t matter, we all come to the holiday table with issues, and whether he was the Son of God or not, no one acknowledged mans ability to perpetually miss the mark more than Jesus Christ.

Pepper spraying your “neighbor” in order to get the gift you want from Wal-Mart is a great example of one overzealous birthday party-goer not only missing the mark but not even having her eye on the mark. Where else is the spirit of forgiveness and acceptance needed more than during the holidays?

For whatever reason young adults decide that Christmas is a great time to drop a bombshell over dinner. Mom and dad, I’m gay. Mom and dad, I flunked out of school. Yes I know it was only a community college but look at the money I saved you flunking out of there rather than Harvard. Mom, dad, I won’t be going on a mission for the church I have been having sex with my girlfriend for the past year and I love her. And she is pregnant.

And it’s not just the youth; parents have dropped a few of their own bombshells over the years. Kids your mother and I have decided to divorce. Kids, your father has moved out and he will tell you why. Kids, we have lost everything and need to move in with one of you. All of this sounds like a horrible Christmas but what better way to celebrate the birth of Christ; flawed, and in need of Christ like qualities such as acceptance and forgiveness and above all the charitable act of offering someone unconditional love.

The holiday is all about whatever we decide as individuals it’s about. The spirit of selflessness, charitable giving, introspection, forgiveness, compassion… may all be Christ like qualities but they don’t require a belief in Christ. And if the season brings out those qualities in believers as well as nonbelievers than we all win. Even the woman with the pepper spray would probably find a place at the table after being asked to leave her weapons at the door. The question is, who would Christ exclude from this party? I believe there are chairs for the believers the non believers and for all of those who really don’t give the significance of the event much thought at all they just showed up because they heard there was a party.

Within

I ventured out into the eye of the storm not to assess the damage or search for something lost.

I ventured out to be reminded even if just for a few moments what peace

Sounds like,

and sunlight feels like.

I wanted to remember that not all wind destroys, that there is

beauty in a gentle breeze.

Lightning can branch across a darkened sky without striking the Earth, and rain can return to a harmless rhythm of drips and taps.

On softened ground my fear subsided as I recognized that my foundation was all I would need to start over.

And while the chaos spun at the edge of my repose, I knew in that moment I was whole again, “I AM” and no storm can carry that away.

I didn’t venture out to assess the damage or find something lost, but when the storm closed back around me the damage no longer mattered and I had discovered something I never knew was lost.

We believe our strength is in the structure that surrounds us; the walls that make up our careers, our religion, our roles. It isn’t until the storm rages and rips those walls away that we find our strength is at the core of who we are, not what we are.

Forgotten Sacrifices

Within the LDS population there exists what I would call the voiceless often silenced minority. There is voice that rings out for those who pioneered with Brigham Young and went on to settle the Salt Lake valley and the regions surrounding it. Whether you believe the church was lead by a prophet or not, there is little to dispute the courage of the early pioneers. Due to the vigilance of Church leaders their voices and their stories will never fall silently into the dust. But there are others whose lives have been examples of great courage and strength, and whose journeys didn’t last a few months or a few years, but lasted a life time and in some cases impacted more than a single generation. These are the Saints the church would rather forget. These are the Saints the church sweeps quietly under the rug in hopes that little if any light will shine to tell their stories. Because with these stories comes tremendous accountability of the church, and as you may have heard, that which is truthful, is not always useful, especially when you set out to run a huge PR campaign like the “I’m a Mormon” adds we are being hit with.

I don’t begrudge the women in the ads for their careers and success. I think they are truly blessed to have been born in this era and not a previous one. And on one level it’s refreshing to see, but on another level I have found it deeply disturbing in that it illustrates how quickly the church will toss those who have sacrificed their entire lives and never ever say “we were wrong.” Or “we are sorry.” Or what should be at least palatable to them, “thank you.” Where are the women who could stand up and say, I have a college degree, and my hearts desire was to be an engineer, but I was a mother during the 50’s 60”s 70’s or even 80’s and while all my peers where pursuing their dreams and careers I chose to follow God/the church and stay home to raise my kids because I believed that is what God had called me to do and my family would be better for it.

To pursue a career in that era of the church meant you didn’t care enough about your family and you where selfish. “No success outside the home can compensate for failure in the home”.  We were taught over and over that you couldn’t be successful at both. And yet, here we are with the church showing brilliant women who by the very lives they live prove the church was completely wrong. Shhhhhh, let’s just quietly walk away from that doctrine ignoring the countless lives that where changed forever, give no apologies, while we paint a new prettier picture of the church for our PR campaign. It is far more appealing to the world isn’t it?

Where are the “I’m a Mormon” ads with people saying “My great grandmother was a strong faithful woman who loved the Lord so much she lived in a polygamous marriage with all of it difficulties because she was taught it was how God wanted her to live whether she like it or not, but she would be blessed.” Where are the black members saying “my great grandfather served faithfully in the church for 74 years knowing he could never enjoy full fellowship with his white brothers, but stayed faithful to God because he believed in the validity of the Book of Mormon.” Where are these people- being quietly swept under the carpet with everything else in the church that may be true but not useful?

I cringe when I think about what may lay on the horizon. All the suicides of our gay brothers and sisters, men and women living a life of celibacy, never laying down at night in the arms of someone they love, feeling safe, warm, and loved. No, the Church will just sweep them under the carpet because they were born in an era when the church taught ignorance about homosexuals just like it did when forcing women into polygamy, denied black men and all women the priesthood and expected women to be indentured servants in the home. Out of respect for the lives of these people I don’t want the church to evolve. At the moment the church accepts gay people generations will be swept under the carpet and the sacrifice they have made will never be acknowledge because to acknowledge it is to admit placing an enormous burden on its gay members and that might lead to an apology that we know from our history is never going to come.

If I sound angry I am.

I am a gay LDS stay at home mom. When I believed the church was “true” I believed I was living the life God meant for me to live despite the challenges placed before me. I hold a Bachelor of Science degree and even and as a young girl never pictured myself as a stay at home mom, but to live the gospel to the best of my ability.  I drank the Kool-Aid. I believed being gay was simply my cross to bear and as long as I followed the gospel God would make me ok, happy even. Everything about my life was sacrificed on behalf of doctrines I believed at the time were from God. Turns out I was created this way for no other reason than it’s who I am. But 50 years of my life has been spent living a life that I was not made for. I love my family and would give my life for them. But I am left holding a bag of “what-ifs”. All I hear when I see these ads is the silence of generations who have gone before and the current muffles of those who are sacrificing in silence.

 As much as I would like to see the church outdate itself and fade into oblivion I know it won’t. For as long as history has been recorded man has sanctioned the right to hate others in the name of God.  So to church leaders I would like to say stay ugly. Stay hateful. It’s your legacy. But as the world moves forward and out of such darkness at least we will be able to easily identify you-the racist, the sexist, the homophobic. You will be found firmly entrenched in your ignorance inside four walls that bare the marquee “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints”.

But, take heart because the world will finally look upon you as “a peculiar people”. At least then one of your prophecies will be fulfilled.

Circles In The Sand

Conference is just around the corner and it seems as though many of us now on the outside of Mormonism are beginning to steel our nerves for the upcoming event. Every six months men and women preach to anyone who will tune in as though God himself wrote the words on the teleprompter. If there is one thing we can always count on it will be someone giving a talk about how to love and reach out to the apostate in the family. And every six months this results in overzealous family members crossing socially acceptable boundaries in the name of God and whatever speaker gave them their hair brained ideas. What I find ironic is that it is the apostate who in the wake of conference tends to become the most Christ like. We bite our tongues until the salty taste of blood fills our mouths. We read well meaning letters and emails from family members calling us to repentance and endure a barrage of guilt trips placed on us all in the name of inspiration and love.

Conferences generally result in an outpouring of pity and prayer on our behalf. I don’t pity them, and I don’t pray for them to leave to church. I can see they are happy in the church so why would I want to disrupt that? Ironically no matter how happy someone is out of the church they convince themselves that you really can’t be as happy as you are pretending to be and deep down you are just begging to be rescued.

With all these good intentions looming on the horizon I decided to write this piece more for my own benefit than the readers. Hopefully someone will take something useful from it:

I hear you.

But you can’t hear me over the voices in your head telling you to rescue me. You’re afraid if you abandon the voices telling you to try harder, pray harder, that I will be lost forever and it will be on your head for not listening, for not saying the “right” things. Maybe if you just clip this article or remind me of this fact, just in case I forgot, or pull out that long lost patriarchal blessing you're sure I haven’t read in years then the spirit will reach out and touch me and I will fall to me knees in shock at how far I have strayed from the truth. Or maybe I will be struck down and appear in a state of sleep for 3 days while angels visit me and call me to repentance and on the 3^rd day I will rise, praise Jesus, and cry repentance unto the people for the remaining days of my life. Our heritage is rich with these stories, to give up trying to bring me “back to the fold” is akin to loosing me forever. You are the only hands of Jesus, how can you stop?

I see you.

But you can’t see me. You focus on what you think I should be, and who you think I am, you can’t remove that image of the elect, the chosen, the Saturday’s Warrior the church created of me in your head. I understand, I believed it once too.

But what you fail to hear and see is that I am exactly the person you hoped I would be. You taught me to place a high value on truth. I searched for the truth and I found it. Would you have me follow something I know isn’t what it claims to be? Would you ask me to ignore personal integrity, and live a lie? Would you ask me to turn away from the truth in order to follow the crowd? You raised me to stand for something. You raised me to stand with my own convictions even when I was in the minority and no one else would follow. I am standing alone in a room filled with my own family. Maybe you should ask yourself why-what could she know that would cause her to take such a stand? I have never drawn a line in the sand that pitted my beliefs against yours. I continually redraw the circle that encompasses all of us despite are varied beliefs. I do this by respecting your values, and not challenging your beliefs and taking joy in the fact that you are happy where you are.

You say I have lost my faith. I have faith. It may not be in the places you would wish for it to be, but my faith is where it needs to be. I have faith in my family, that one day they will still the voices in their head and hear me. I have faith that one day they will see me and the strength it has taken to do what I felt was right for me, without judging you. I have faith that one day you will be just as proud of me out of the church as you would have been had I stayed in the church. I have faith that one day you will put family before church, and feel at peace with that.

For What Does It Profit a Man

Have you ever split something like a chocolate chip cookie between 4-year-olds? The first thing they will do is look at the size of the OTHER half of the cookie. Once they establish that the half they have is equal to or greater than the cookie their friend has they will settle in content to eat it, right up until the point that the 4-year-old next them says “Hey, her cookies is bigger than mine.” or “Hey, her cookie has more chocolate chips than mine.” If the situation isn’t resolved in the mind of the 4-year-old that feels slighted he or she will demand justice at the feet of the caregiver and if they don’t get it they will walk away from the table and not eat the cookie at all. Meanwhile the other child will be munching away, swinging their legs, humming a tune and even watch the other child throw a fit while they sit calmly eating the cookie. All of this because one child felt someone else unfairly received more than they deserved.

There is a scripture in Doctrine and Covenants Section 88 that talks about all of God’s children being happy regardless of the kingdom they inherit. It first covers celestial then terrestrial and finally in verse 31 it reads:

“and also they who are quickened by a portion of the telestial glory shall then receive of the same EVEN A FULLNESS.

32) And they who remain shall also be quickened; nevertheless, they shall return again to their own place, to enjoy that which they are willing to receive, because they were not willing to enjoy that which they might have received.

33) For what does it profit a man if a gift is bestowed upon him, and he receives not the gift? Behold, he rejoices not in that which is given unto him, neither rejoices in him who is the giver of the gift.

Most of my life has been spent in a church forcing me into the highest kingdom. There is no room for individuality in this plan. You are a child of God and “entitled” to this highest kingdom. Anything that convinces you otherwise is Satan leading you astray. You are not Gay, you can’t be single, if you don’t have a spouse in this life one will be appointed to you in the next like it or not, and once you and your husband make it into the highest kingdom, he will probably be given more wives, but don’t worry you’re numero uno!

I have been told how to act, how to pray, what to wear, what to eat, what not to drink, who I should and should not socialize with, what to say and what special knowledge I will need to take with me in order to receive the gift of the Celestial Kingdom. A gift that I have also been told I am not worthy to open on my own, I must have a husband do it for me. As I have made a mental exit from Mormonism I have realized this is a gift I have never wanted. From everything I have been told about the Celestial Kingdom it does not fit my personality. I believe with all my heart that I am capable of attaining the Celestial Kingdom. I also know with all my heart that I will not be happy while doing it. It fits me about as well as draping RuPaul across the arm of Boyd k. Packer like a fashion accessory as he enters the tabernacle of the next general conference. Simply put I could not enjoy the gift that would be given to me.

What I find interesting is that there are millions of people who will enjoy it and amongst those are some of my friends who I am pretty sure will only enjoy it if those in other kingdoms are miserable. I honestly believe that they will not be able to focus on the gift that is in front of them if people like me are just as happy as they are while spending eternity in a “lesser” kingdom.

I have encountered many LDS members who share the belief that you can’t possibly be happy in any other kingdom other than the Celestial Kingdom because you will always be painfully aware of what you could have had. Well I could have had liver for dinner last night but I chose chicken instead- I prefer it. Others are quick to point out that those who are not quite as valiant as they are can still be happy, but will be so as servants to them. They strip away all family ties and even like taking away anyone’s sexuality who fails to make the highest degree of heaven. It doesn’t matter to them that Joseph Smith once remarked that if you could see even the lowest kingdom you would want to die to get there as soon as you could. Some are quick to tell anyone who has left the church that they are now destined for outer darkness. When I ask them why it would bother them if other people could be just as happy as they are but living in “lesser” kingdoms a common response is “Why should I have to sacrifice so much and you so little for us both to end up just as happy?” This is a very telling response. If they were truly happy living the gospel, it just wouldn’t feel like that big of a sacrifice. Makes me wonder how happy they will actually be living with their hard fought eternal reward.

This desire for others to suffer if they don’t follow the straight and narrow path is not unique to Mormonism. I have born again friends who without a flinch in their conscience will tell me that I along with millions of others am going to hell unless we all believe as they do. Who needs Christ as a judge when we have so many experts among us?

What makes the human family so unique is our diversity. What makes one person happy doesn’t make everyone happy. We may all have the potential to be a successful businessman but not all of us want to be. Take the guy who is the CEO of Fortune 500 company. He is happy, rich, doesn’t really want for anything. Does this mean we should all want to be the CEO of Fortune 500 company and if we don’t we will be miserable? Well, maybe as far as the CEO is concerned everyone who doesn’t have what he has seems unhappy to him. But what about the guy/girl who wakes up every morning, hits waves as the sun is coming up, shares an apartment with a few great friends, works enough hours at the local restaurant to pay the rent and on a good day can hit the waves before the sun sets again. From the perspective of the surfer, the CEO’s life is a corporate prison.

So I have to ask myself, what gift am I willing to enjoy? None of us know what comes after death. At best we hope life goes on. And if it does I want to be comfortable in my own skin for eternity. To do that, I think it’s pretty important that I know what makes me comfortable in my own skin here and now. And that is really all I can do right now. I don’t know what the afterlife is all about, but in the meantime I can explore the depths of my own humanity and learn as much as I can while I’m here. In most Christian teachings including Mormonism to be placed anywhere other than where God is has been seen as punishment. But in Mormonism it stands to reason that having several kingdoms allows God to show tremendous love and compassion by taking the individual and placing him or her where that person will be the most happy for eternity, not sentence them to an eternity of pining away for the things they could have had.

I think there will be some pretty unhappy people in heaven, angry that I and others like me can be so happy with the gift that we were willing to receive. And while they throw themselves at the feet of the judge and demand that you and I and all other apostates suffer, I will be sitting in my place, swinging my legs, humming a happy tune all while enjoying the gift that I was willing to receive. Who knows, maybe you and I can peacefully share a chocolate chip cookie, you know, like adults.

Holding to the Rod

Losing faith in LDS doctrine and its origins was like watching the Iron Rod I had clung to so tightly for so many years turn to dust in the palm of my hand. The words of God are no longer clear cut and laid out for everyone to follow no matter how smart or simple the listener might be. Turns out that what I thought was the word of God, as spoken by God himself, was nothing more than men proclaiming the right to speak for God while God himself may have had no hand in the smelting of that rod whatsoever. The words of these men sounded Godly, and made since to me, and even promised great rewards, but in retrospect, copper and aluminum can be pretty and shiny as well.

For months after seeing the religion that I had been part of exposed, I had no idea what to do without that rod in my hand. I couldn’t imagine that God would place us here with no instructions. The word of God, that Iron Rod, had to be somewhere. I looked at a lot of other religions and philosophies but there was just no getting around the fact that all of them begin with a man making unverifiable claims that God spoke through him. Apparently over the centuries God has chosen to speak to a lot of men and women to impart his will. The problem is, these people all contradict each other. My question today remains the same as it did the day I knew the LDS church was no different than any other religion- “where is the word of God?” Where is that Iron Rod that I can hold on to, and know I am on a path back to God if He really does exist. I think for many this is the beginning of where their belief in God can no longer be logically sustained. A year from now I may very well be forced to agree with them.

Labels

Define yourself. Define me. Define God. Define spiritual. Define religious. Define… In some circles it seems like my very salvation is dependent on my ability to define some of these topics. I am tagged with labels from the moment I inhaled my first breath. Girl, healthy, white, infant.. As the years have rolled on, the labels attached to me, this one infant, born 50 years ago, have grown into an astoundingly long list. Athletic, cute, sarcastic, wife, mother, sister, Mormon, funny, student, volunteer (and vain considering I’m only listing the more positive ones from my list)… amongst the labels I have picked up along the way are the ones that wars have been fought over, such as Christian and American. Other labels have caused divisions in our government, our courts, and our houses of worship and in our homes. Labels like gay, lesbian.

The fact is, labels matter. We have to assign definition to things to make since of our world. It isn’t the label that is the problem it’s the definition that creates problems. Before vaccinations childhood diseases such as those labeled Small Pox or Polio were words that invoked fear. Images of quarantine and death were wrapped around these words and the child who possessed it. Today the label exists, but the definition the image creates at least in this country invokes thoughts of a crying child being vaccinated and not a lot more.

An Unexpected Peace

I had a business meeting with a member from my ward today. The conversation turned into something quite unexpected.

I sat listening intently as she recalled the night 30 years ago she received the news her son had been killed in an auto accident. She recalled how in the weeks previous to his death he seemed to “know without knowing” that he would be leaving soon. In the days previous to the accident he had made contact with all of his family members telling them that he loved them. He had purchased life insurance a year earlier, and offered words of advice to his mother that would set her life on a new course, all without knowing that a semi would soon be crossing a center divider, hitting him head on. He would be dead at age 24.

The Invisible God

Peacewriter contributor St. Jude sent another thought provoking commentary our way this week. in this latest piece, she questions just where god has been while devastation and terror have rained down on his children the world over.

Sometimes I wonder if it has been so long since God Himself was mortal that He has forgotten what the experience is like for the rest of us.

Sometimes I wonder if God has grown tired of being God and chosen to just walk away and let us self destruct while He busies Himself on a new project. One less complicated than this one turned out to be.
We make ourselves feel better with cliché’ phrasing like “God’s hands are our hands.” But we all know that our hands aren’t sufficient enough or quick enough to stop the dying that will happen today, and tomorrow…

While Japans nuclear reactors melt down we don’t have the knowledge or capacity to stop it. And yet we tell our children God can do anything.

No More Hammers

Over the years their voices have grown fainter as they cry from the pulpit “obey, obey obey…” As it echo’s off the walls of the chapel my mind now seems to turn inward to a voice more calm and more sure than it has ever been. I have spent too many years taking the me that God created and tried to make it into a picture perfect reflection of “truth” and “good”. I have always known that I was not a round peg created for a hole