cold, dark and uninspired

I've been reading nonstop lately.  I am pretty sure I am depressed because I've never been so hungry or desperate for information.  Yes, the cold weather has added to my need to curl up with a good book and the fact that everyone has been sick has given me an excuse to cancel all our plans, but I've taken reading to a whole new level.  I am not sleeping because I can't put down my books..  I'd rather stay home and read than do almost anything else and this is not typical of me.  In college I stopped socializing because I had mono and that's a little like what this feels.  I almost can't function anymore because I am in a funk.

I hate to label it as sickness or depression because I am actually quite happy and grateful.  I don't question my self-worth or potential.  But I am almost completely surrounded by darkness.  There is no sunlight in my world right now and there hasn't been for some time.  I've almost forgotten what it's like to receive inspiration or enlightenment.  I feel as though this is a holding period that I have to remain still and wait for the next stage in life.  And while I wait, I am reading whatever I can get my hands on.  Literally, I've gone a little crazy and read thousands of pages and hundreds of books.  My eyes are so tired, but I can't stop.  The more I read, the more I need to read and it's really becoming a problem.  I need to get on top of my laundry in a major way.

But before I do that, I wanted to mention someone who has helped me tremendously..  Leslie Householder is an LDS author that has written three wonderful books that came into my life at the right moment.  I read through all three of her books (Hidden Treasures, The Jackrabbit Factor and Portal to Genius) in less than 2 days.  I loved all of them for different reasons, but there is an allegory in Hidden Treasures that struck a major chord with me.  It's really the ONLY thing that has allowed me to make sense of what I am currently going through.  After reading this quick story, I realized that I am not actually depressed, I am just underground.  I am an acorn that fell from my tree over a year ago.  (I willingly jumped from my tree.)  I know the exact moment that I jumped and the hard landing shocked me.  It was such a long and hard fall that it took my breath away.  I was numb for quite some time and then when I tried to get back up, I was trampled on.  And then I was deeply buried underground.  Here I remain- cold, wet, alone.  I am still here waiting.

This is Leslie's allegory of the acorn.  Please know I am directly quoting from her book Hidden Treasures and I take no credit for this little story or idea.

"A little acorn wants to become all that its blueprint promises that it can be.  It is meant to become a grand and mighty oak, but for now, it is only a simple nut dangling by a stem.
It hangs on the parent tree and reaches high, wanting to see the grand views and sweep the vast sky with broad branches.  It wants to experience the fluttering of leaves and the saying of limbs, but alas, it can barely feel the breeze slowed by the shelter of its protecting parent. 

Finally the parent hears its cry and says, "Yes, little seed, I have great plans for you.  You will scrape the sky and sway in the wind, and the view will be glorious.  You'll provide a home for many creatures, giving shelter and food.  Your friends will be many, your influence will be vast, and you'll be great and happy." 

The little acorn's heart swells with excitement as it stretches its rigid shell upward to receive its promise reward, but instead of enjoying the exhilaration of greatness, it is shaken from the tree and takes a long, hard fall, landing with nothing more than a slight thud. 

In fact, there is no apparent compassion or understanding, since its terrible fall seems to go unnoticed.  Its very world seems to have crashed down, and yet time marches on for everything else around it. 

The tiny acorn soon finds itself trampled upon, with dirt kicked rudely upon it.  Eventually, it's completely buried, in the dark, and alone.

"Have you forgotten me?!"  He cries, but there is no answer, no explanation, no reprieve.  Instead of rescue, the rain begins to pour and at once the buried seed believes it just may drown as well. 

It tries to throw its weight one way and then the other to force its way out of the ground, or to find its way back to the tree.  But nothing changes.  It is as though it is trapped and cannot escape its doom.

Weary of the fight, its surrenders to its fate.  Holding still with a sigh, the elements around it take notice of its calmed demeanor and begin to respond to its mere presence there.  In fact, without any more futile struggle, it begins to notice there is a subtle change, taking place within itself. 

It discovers that as it remains calm, it actually ALREADY has all it needs, right there in its immediate environment.  It hasn't perished from being cut off from it's parent, as it feared it might.  Though the fall was frightening and terrible, there it remains, as alive and as well as before.

No, it has not perished.  Rather, it has sprouted new parts of itself from within that it didn't even know it could sprout, and the little seed begins to experience the joy that always accompanies growth and soul-expansion.  Though it hasn't achieved its ultimate goal, it feels good enough just to grow. 

After that temporary period of loneliness and fear, soon the seedling has broken through the crust of earth and can finally see the goal again -- though it has never appeared to be so far away as it is now.

However, in truth, it has never been closer.

So be patient, little seed; you were created for the greatness that is in store for you."

One thing I've realized since reading this is that I won't get out of my predicament quickly.  I hate being underground and even though I have everything I need, it's lonely and hard and really cold.  But there is no quick fix so my patience is growing and my methods of problem solving are changing.  I am taking everything at a much slower pace.  I am questioning everything because I am completely on my own (or so it seems.)  It's been unbelievably frustrating.. The most frustrating experience of my life, but I am still here.  I am alive and striving with all of my might.  It takes so much effort to do anything or make the smallest of decisions.  When I pray or scream or ask for help, it seems that no one can hear me, so I've turned inward.  I have never felt more alone or desperate.  But I am also the most calm and collected I've ever been.

I think my husband is underground as well, but I can't be sure.  We used to be happy together on the same tree.  We were scared to jump, but we knew that if we didn't jump, we'd be pushed out. It was such a strong urge to leave our home and our possessions that we may have jumped without questioning, without planning, without wondering what would happen to us once we landed.  And even though we jumped together, we landed in different places.  Aaron and I are not the same acorn, you see, we never have been.  We have sympathy for what the other person is going through, we are in our own dark places searching for light and inspiration.  Aaron has handled it so much better than I have because he is a naturally a calm person.  He doesn't worry about what people think or care to share any of the information that he's processing because it's always been an internal battle for him.  Through this experience I've realized how much I can learn from him.  He doesn't complain, he is continually grateful and he doesn't question or let stress or worry influence his decisions.  It's pretty incredible to watch, from a distance.

I've complained way too much over the past year.  I have been such a baby, really.  I think my biggest problems is that I want to be back to my old self, I don't want to go back in time, necessarily, but I want to feel like I used to feel-- carefree, optimistic and inspired.  I do feel gratitude, I swear I feel grateful everyday.  But it comes in waves.  Being in the dark for such a long time gets to me.  I question my beliefs, I wonder how long it will be before I see light, I constantly resist my cold, unfamiliar environment.  It's hard to embrace!  But I know the more I surrender and allow things to happen, the happier I will be.  I can't force a change.  I am wasting precious time and energy complaining, so I need to get back to work/reading... (and start some laundry because it doesn't clean itself.)

more on this later.  maybe.

my thoughtful faith

It's been a hard week for the LGBT+ community and for members of the LDS church.  My family has come down with a terrible sickness and the weather has turned cold, so we've spent the last week cooped up in the house.  Because we're hibernating, I've had a lot of time on my hands to get educated on the debate... I've read articles written from every point of view.  I've gotten involved in blog discussions (which I rarely do) and listened to every podcasts on the subject.  More than anything I feel I've taken the time to process what matters and figure out where I stand.  

To me, it's NOT a divide between the church and everyone else.  I stand on the side that chooses to remain positive, see the good in everybody and in every change.. (I am for the legalizing of gay marriage AND I stand behind the LDS church leaders and their position on apostasy.) It's a hard place to be in, but I truly believe we can be different and work together.  I know that communities built on love and respect is the only way to bring about change.  If you're kind, informed and want to listen to the other side than I stand with you.  If you think this new church policy is the end of the world and was put out there to exclude and divide, then I sympathize with you and believe those feelings are valid and real and I hold a space for that.  We don't have to agree to work together.  Our differences is what makes our communities and church so beautiful.

I've truly enjoyed the last couple of podcasts from A Thoughtful Faith.  A few days ago, the discussion with James Ord was enlightening.  He is an attorney based out of Utah (who is also an ex-mormon married to another man and a father to four children.)  In his podcast, he explained the LDS church policy on excluding newly defined "apostates" from their organization as a necessary legal liability.  From a LEGAL standpoint the new church policy was not only wise, but necessary.  They knew that it would hurt and exclude, but it was a decision that had to be made.  It was not a policy they took lightly or one they miscalculated.. side note: I'm married to a family attorney who is the most non-judgmental person I've ever met, so this podcast really outlined some of the progressive conversations we are having in our home, a lot of discussion about protection:  protecting the emotional welfare of children, protecting the family as an institution, and protecting the church as an organization.   (I think Aaron could have done a much better job explaining the legal allegations the church will face if they don't separate themselves from the LGBT+ community, without bringing personal feelings into the matter, but I digress.)  That podcast was good, but not good enough to share, so that's why I am not linking it.  

What I am linking and sharing is THE MOST AMAZING conversation I have heard on this topic and I think everyone needs to listen.  I have a serious love for Jacob Hess and what he stands for.  I literally agree with him on every.single.point.  This is where the solution is, my friends.  There IS a place in the middle for all of us.  We don't have to agree, but we should be kind, loving and respectful and allow a space for differences.  

He makes a point around the 14 minute mark that is completely brilliant-- It's not an exact quote, but it's close.  "I believe just as much in the ART OF DELIBERATION as I do in dialogue.. Where we agree to come together and find a way to live together and make decisions together and that's an art.  When it's done right, it's beautiful and when it's done wrong, it's really ugly."  (caps added, I love the way he sees discussion as an art.  In needs to be done the right way in order to inspire change.) 

Gina Colvin, who runs this podcast, does a fantastic job of trying to bring about a conversation of change, asking Jacob Hess if just sitting around and talking is doing enough, if anything.  And I absolutely love the dialogue back and forth.  We all want to see change.  We want to fight for what we feel is right and I truly believe that change will only come as we listen to each other and we respect one another's differences.  I do not believe this change comes about with anger and intolerance.  Yes, people are angry and hurt.  Let's allow space for that pain for as long we need to work through it.  There is also an important place for uncertainty.  And above all, we need to constantly check ourselves (everyone on all sides) to make sure we are being open and kind and loving.

The story Hess tells about his liberal, atheist friend who lost his cat made me laugh out loud, several times, I just loved it so much.  It might seem like that story he shares is off topic, but to me it's everything.  He sits down with someone who's views are completely different from his own, and he comes away caring about him, wanting to discuss more and connect on a deeper level and he finds himself mourning for his friend's dead cat.  This is exactly what we need to be doing with each other.. listening, caring, talking with respect and then come away changed and better.  Believe it or not, this is change.  He is the product of living on a higher level.  Not only does his example want me want to connect with him and read his books, but it inspires me to want to connect with every other person in my circle of influence.  I want to be more like him and have a lot of work to do.  

Okay, so where does this leave me on my thoughtful faith?  I stand with both the LGBT+ community and with Mormons.  How is it possible to stand with both? I believe that the LGBT+ community deserves all of the rights they need and want.  They should be allowed to marry, they should be allowed to adopt and raise children and they should be free to live how they chose, without judgment.  They are amazing, beautiful, contributing members of society. I will stand behind them, listen to them, and vote for them.  I would absolutely welcome them in my home and sit next to them at church, if they felt that coming was adding to their happiness. 

How can I still be a Mormon after this week?  I believe there is a place for me, and for anyone who wants to be there.  There is a dance that only I can do, and I will not sit on the sidelines and watch.  My place in this religion is an important one.  I believe in God and I believe that God wants me to stand in my convictions.  I stand with love and respect for those who don't agree with me (and some of those people are Mormons.)  These past few years while serving in positions in the church WHILE struggling with my own testimony has been a beautiful experience.  I was Relief Society president at a time when I didn't agree with a lot of the people that I went to church with.  Some people might not have felt that I did a good job in my position... but I promise you, I served with all of my heart. I was authentic and real and I did what God wanted me to do. I didn't read the handbook, I tried to follow policy when it applied to the situation, but I truly was guided by the Spirit and I served the women in my ward.  I listened to them, I cared about them.  I helped some of them out of abusive relationships.  I cheered them on.  I mourned with them.  I assisted in providing food and shelter.  I did a hell of a good job.  I may not have gotten along well with my own presidencies.  I had some conflicts with other leaders in my ward, but I was there for a good reason.  My voice mattered and it still does.

I currently serve as the first counselor in the young women's presidency and this place is important for me.  Why would I leave when I know I can help and love the girls in my ward?  I know I can make a difference with everyone in my ward, just by being there on Sunday.  Do I have to agree with everyone who comes to church?  Of course not.  How boring would that be?  I believe God wants me in this place.  I don't see any good in leaving.  Sometimes I worry my kids will be "brainwashed" and believe everything they hear or what they are taught in Primary (I don't agree with everything in the primary manuals, btw.) But I know that as their mother, my example and my testimony has the greatest influence on them.  I teach them everything I know, including the controversial things, like Joseph's Smith's first vision accounts.. all of them.  We talk about things that the prophets have said that we DON'T agree with and I believe it's helping them form their own testimonies.  Knowledge is power.  Shielding them from a different point of view doesn't do any good.  I believe I can still be a part of the church and hold a space for others who aren't following blindly.  I don't mind if others think I am following blindly.  I've taken a lot of time and struggle to get where I am and it's working for me.  This is my story and my voice matters.  As does yours, religious or not.

I am going to close by mentioning CJane.  Her recent podcast and the last few blog posts she's written have struck a cord with me.  I respect her greatly and believe her voice is so important.  I know it takes a lot of courage to put opinions and stories out there and I truly have love and admiration for her.  But I do not agree with the approach.  I think if she wants to combat this topic with anger and intolerance, than she will receive anger and intolerance in return.  Her story of being raised in a large family with a patriarchal family is her truth.  I was raised similarly in a large family with a father who made decisions for the family.  But my outtake on life is very different and my mother is the most respected by her children and her voice matters.  Do I see myself as privileged Mormon girl?  Yes, I do.  And I believe I am held accountable for the privileges I've received being raised in the home, neighborhood and church that I was raised in.  And I believe that along with these privileges, I have an obligation to help those who didn't have an upbringing like mine (or a husband who is kind and respectful.) My obligation is to listen and to serve and to never, ever judge.  This is where I see change happening.  Why are we so afraid of those are different- even opposite of us?  Can't we see that we belong to each other and that our differences is what makes it amazing to be alive, living now when these important social changes are happening? 

I come away from this week knowing and believing that FAMILY cohesiveness should come before anything else. I know that our role as PARENTS is the most important role we can ever play.  Our time with our children is vital.  I believe strongly in my responsibilities as a mother and I praise my husband and the important things he does as a father.  We could not be more different human beings, the two of us as parents.  But that makes our home colorful and exciting.  We disagree every day, but we always seek to find a middle ground and then we move forward.  When one of us won't budge, we respect the position and find power in each other's convictions.  There are things that he does well that I could never do.  And no matter how hard he tries, he could never fill my role as a mother to my children.  We listen to each other, love what the other has to offer and we stand firm in our personal convictions, which are not the same.  Our home becomes stronger and more powerful because we come together calmly and sensibly and recognize our differences.

This past Sunday was an interesting one because I had to sit on the stand behind the pulpit with the YW who were taking over the program.  I watched my husband and children from the stand and I smiled the entire time.  For several years, Aaron served in the bishopric and sat on the stand.  I was bitter a lot of the time he served because I was so exhausted caring for the kids week after week.  And this last Sunday as I sat on the stand, I thought of CJane's podcast where she said it pained her to go to church and only see men sitting up on the stand.  I thought about that as I sat up there, and as I looked at my husband wrestling the kids.  And I can totally see where she is coming from and believe she has every right to feel hurt that the women in our church don't serve in bishoprics.  My own personal conviction is that the home is most important and the church is somewhere down the line.  

It takes a LOT of time away from home to serve in higher callings and it's my opinion that our children would literally fall apart if women were serving in bishoprics.  Not saying men aren't wonderful in their own respects, but they can't do what we do at home.  You can disagree with me if you'd like.  But I have the most attentive, loving, kind, respectful, hands-on husband.  He is an amazing father, but my children need me physically next to them in a way that they don't need my husband.  As a woman I was blessed with some amazing gifts to care for my children and no matter how hard he tries, he can't comfort the kids the way I do.  This role reversal on the sacrament meeting stand was just one experience in a long list of little testimony builders make me want to follow the Prophet.  I want to do it.  I don't feel like I have to stay in the church,  but I want to be there-- for myself.  I will be the first to admit that being a Mormon is exhausting, time-consuming, hard.  I will admit that some members are judgmental and closed-minded.  But I will not judge the church as a whole and I will not leave it because if I did my family would suffer.  I am a strong woman who stands up for what I believe.  I bring perspective, color and optimism to the table.  I believe God wants me where I am (in the home and sitting in the pews with my children while my husband serves in another capacity) and this knowledge and conviction brings me peace.

I hope that your convictions bring you peace.  You may not believe in God, but that doesn't change the fact that you have something important to do and that your voice matters.  I think we all need to talk calmly and respectfully as we discuss our differences and we stand firm in what matters most to us.  Xoxo.  Looking forward to future conversations, friends.

love is the answer.

I could write a long post about the recent LDS/LGBT+ debate. I could tell you where I stand and how strong my testimony is or is not in the church. But that is so far from the point.

The point is there are lots of people hurting. People feeling excluded, people on both sides getting judged. And we need to wake up and realize that all negativity, all the arguing, all the ignoring is the wrong approach. The ONLY right approach is to love and accept and to find compassion in your heart for others, for everyone involved. The only way we can build a better community, church, society is by listening and accepting what the other person has to say and how they feel.

I don't think that God want us to bear our testimonies from the rooftops right now. The prophet and church do not need us to stick up for them. God has asked us to do one really important thing and it comes before everything else-- LOVE ONE ANOTHER. To acknowledge another person who isn't living the way you are is not accepting sin. We don't need to feel uncomfortable for loving someone exactly the way they are. God knows our hearts and He will be the judge. The church is doing what they need to do. They don't need us to argue for them. They need us to reach out and love every single person you know. Every.single.person. End of story.

We need start apologizing, sincerely saying "I'm sorry." We need to try pick up broken pieces and to put them back together the best way we can. We need to shut up and stop justifying why we aren't being kind. We need to smile, to comfort, to stay calm, to support, to CARE. We need to do more than what we are doing... to love harder and deeper and to never give up on each other, even if it seems like we'll never agree. It will seem awkward at first to reach out. But it's the only answer. There IS a place for us where we can all get along and have fun together. Let's put down our pride, (not that kind of pride.) Let's leave our anger and frustration and self-righteousness at the door. Let's blast some good music and get to work loving each other better.