I love my children with a fierceness that hurts. My oldest just graduated high school, and my momma heart hardly knows how to wrap itself around the fact that my babies are leaving our nest. There is nothing in the world except my connection with God that brings me more deep joy than being a mom.

But just yesterday, I saw a man pushing a stroller and I got a sort of heavy, anxious feeling in my chest. I turned to my husband and asked, “How did we do it? How did we do that early stage of having three little children?” Being a mom of littles was hard for me!

Although I didn’t struggle with the kind of postpartum depression that leads to thoughts of harming a baby, the OCD that had almost left me as a single young adult came back with a fury the minute I found out I was pregnant, and I dealt with serious postpartum depression with at least my first baby. And anxiety? That was my constant companion from the time I was a child. Having to also care for children of my own only exacerbated that struggle.

So when I saw this Mormon Message (see below) about a young mom who dealt with serious postpartum anxiety, depression, and OCD, my heart went out to her and I knew I wanted to post about it.

In the Church, we talk a lot about how much motherhood matters to God. Now that I’ve been doing this motherhood thing for nearly two decades, I understand more why it is that God commands us to multiply and replenish. Family matters. Motherhood matters in ways that I think our mortal selves can’t really comprehend. It’s not just for the joy that can be there, but for the challenge of it all that stretches us to the point of recognizing all the more how much we need God.

Because family life can be really, really hard. Motherhood can be knock-you-to-your knees hard. Like the woman in this video, I had spent time in the professional world before I found my husband and became a mom. I’d served a foreign mission. I’d traveled the world meeting with executives and helping them work through complex operational and organizational challenges.

But nothing, nothing could have prepared me for how hard motherhood would be. And I was embarrassed by that. As this Mormon woman says, my world was turned upside-down when I became a mother.

If you are a mom and finding yourself shocked by the challenge of motherhood, know you are not alone. Like this woman says in the Mormon Channel video, don’t hesitate to accept offers for or ask for help.

I wonder if in our busy modern lives, we’ve lost some of the power of Relief Society when it comes to helping women who are moms. I know as a mom of teenagers I wish I had more formal ways to engage the women in my ward about launching children into adulthood and parenting adult children. We need each other!

I know that when I was a young mom, I needed a lot of encouragement. I am glad I had a few friends I could call, and I’m grateful for the visiting teachers who stepped in to help. But I really didn’t know it was okay to struggle with motherhood. All I knew is that I knew my weakness as a mom and wondered if my kids deserved better.

Now I know that those weren’t thoughts from God. Now I know that motherhood is a process. Now I really know that the Atonement is for parents (oh, how grateful I am that Jesus Christ is there to cover and compensate and comfort us in our mortal weakness as parents!).

And now I know that one of the ways to access the power of the Savior’s grace is to learn to work with my body and its weakness. Anxiety, OCD, depression — these are real things. They affect the brain, which is both a physical organ and a spiritual center in our lives. Like Rachel in this video, I struggled for years not being able to feel the power of the Atonement in ways that people often talk about it. Peace isn’t something you feel regularly when anxiety presses on you. Trained therapists can help us separate out the thoughts that come with anxiety so that we can create more space for peace to enter in and have better eyes to see tender mercies that extend beyond just what we can (or can’t) feel.

Again, if you struggle as a mom, don’t be afraid to ask for help. If you struggle with anxiety, depression, OCD or other mental health issues, please share with someone. Don’t be afraid to ask for help, including professional help. The pieces can and do come together as we seek for help. And God’s grace often shows up in ways that we might not expect.

The post Mormon women and postpartum depression and anxiety appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

Mark’s story has been one of the most influential in my life. I have heard him share his story multiple times. The false beliefs he developed began when he was a young child. (Next time you hear about an addict, and wonder why they just don’t stop doing what they are doing, please don’t assume that they are “just making bad choices.” So often — in fact, almost always — they need healing from deeply-seeded false beliefs that have often existed for years, if not decades (often since childhood).

I will be eternally grateful to people like Mark who bravely, repeatedly have share their stories to  help others find hope. They have been my little-s saviors on Mt. Zion.

(Watch the video below or by clicking on the image above. You can also read Mark’s story of addiction recovery and deep beliefs-level healing.)

The post Stories of healing: God is always reaching out appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

One of the things I didn’t understand for the first 40 years of my life (I call those my 40 years in the wilderness) is that when we seek healing and help from God, there are layers of healing that can happen when we become aware of our thoughts.

I  have suffered from OCD and anxiety since I was a young child. For many years, I also suffered from dysthymia (a low-level form of depression —  “persistent depressive disorder” that is less pronounced than major depressive disorder but still impacts life in a significant way).

I can still remember as a child praying earnestly for God to take away my fears. But they never went away. I was so confused by this!

And I think at some point in my tween/teen life I gave up asking. (My heart hurts to even write those words.)

Now let me say that I didn’t lose my testimony. I still believed in God. I felt God guide me throughout my life, especially in major decisions (although I was always, always afraid that somehow I would make the wrong decisions and mess up my plan forever). I felt the Spirit on many occasions. I was diligent in scripture study, prayer, church attendance, and temple worship. I served a mission. I married in the temple. I did everything active Mormons do. (I don’t share this at all to boast; this is just what my journey looked like.)

I also share these things to show that all the doing of my Mormon life was not sufficient to heal my mind, heart, and spirit.

In spite of my religious habits, which were done with a good heart and real intent, I wasn’t ever consistently at peace. I was ignorant to how my own thoughts were sabotaging my spiritual health and leaving me weary of life. (I believe God unveiled me to this reality at a time when things were right in my life. But I also believe that my life could have been different had I known what I know now. And so I share in hopes that others “can be more wise than [I] have been.“)

The messages in my head were pretty constant, and included things like “You are not enough.” “What if you go through all of this life thing and find out you didn’t make it?” “You should be able to fix yourself. You have a testimony. Why aren’t you happy?” Or I would feel mad at God because I had so little peace. I would listen to conference talks and talks at church, and I would read scriptures, and I would attend the temple. And my brain still ended up feeling hopeless, seeing all I wasn’t doing. Then, because I had such a testimony, I thought the answer was simply to be more religious, to work harder to be more diligent, more dutiful.

Those in the Church who suffer from anxiety and depression may relate to some of these thoughts. Even though I had a testimony and was earnestly active in the Church, I simply didn’t know how to believe in God’s love for me (even though I could believe in it for others!) because THESE. THOUGHTS. WERE. SO. LOUD. (Yes, the all-caps was on purpose.)

I can’t speak for God, but I feel like He didn’t answer those little-girl prayers to simply take away my fears, because He knew that my 40 years in the wilderness would teach me something about my Egypt, my bondage.

God was allowing me to learn by experience to seek truth by learning through life experience what was not truth. He wasn’t ignoring me or torturing me. He was simply allowing me to experience my fall so I could know what the contrasting, personal, on-this-side-of-the-veil salvation would feel like when it was time for that healing to start to come.

I had to reach a pretty low point where I wanted more than some sort of quick-fix relief from my pain, fear, and shame. Life and health issues also brought me to a point where I couldn’t work harder or more. I had to learn how to work differently. What I needed was healing at my core, at that root level of my thoughts. That healing for me couldn’t start to happen until I connected with others further along this specific, thought-level approach to seeking the healing power of Christ.

I needed to know, first, that healing. is. possible. And I needed guidance on the how.

For me, angel-from-heaven therapists were a start and have been critical to my healing. But the real change for me started happening when I followed through on the heaven-sent idea to attend 12-step meetings, which I have been attending regularly for five years now. Immersing myself in a healing community has been life-changing. The Twelve Steps also have taught me the how of accessing the Atonement. It’s the different work that my mind and spirit had actually been desiring to understand since my youth. (I still remember asking people in my teens what it meant to put things at Jesus’ feet. I knew the what. But no one ever explain a how that I could wrap my head around. The Twelve Steps changed that for me.)

With that hope from hearing others’ stories of healing, and learning from their how, I eventually started to engage my own process of learning to identify and start to surrender these voices in my head. (Think of Moses’ experience in Moses 1 where he first experienced truth about God’s nature and power as the foundation to be able to recognize how much the devil truly was not God. I was a faithful member of the Church, so temple-recommend type of obedience was not my issue. But obedience alone to the commandments was not enough to heal my mind. My fallen thoughts were a channel for the devil to have a hold on my life.)

Along the way, I also have had impressions (personal commandments!) to do things like yoga and meditation as well (great tools for helping one learn how to observe one’s thoughts in a non-judgmental way and to be more present rather than obsessed with the past or the future).

I now understand that because my OCD and anxiety started when I was barely at the age of accountability, perhaps even before, the false beliefs around which my mind developed have been around for a long, long time. I now understand that it will continue to take time for the layers to be revealed to me, but I’m learning to cherish the process. God shows up in amazing ways to let me know that the real truth about Him is nothing like I had imagined in the hamster wheel of my head. As we learn in Lectures on Faith, we can’t really exercise faith in God unless we have a correct understanding of His character and attributes. Through this find-and-surrender/replace process, I am coming to know a God who is more gentle, loving, kind, patient, and ever-ready to help me than I ever could have dreamed. He meets me where I am and takes me one baby step, one thought at a time, to show me more of who He really is. He isn’t angry when I can’t just figure it out or fix myself.

In fact, one of the most important truths that has come to light is that it is simply not my job to change or fix myself. That doesn’t mean I sit passively. I can use my agency to surround myself with people engaging in this process. I can be willing to learn from the pain of my unhealthy thought patterns, and let the pain teach me (rather than expecting God to anesthetize me). I can choose to pray for courage to seek knowledge and insight from the pain that my hamster-wheel thoughts cause me (rather than trying to force myself to think differently — which only breeds shame — I can practice being kind to myself in that process). I can do my usual Mormon stuff (scriptures, prayers, church, temple, service) and also do the things that I now know help me stay plugged into this process and the hope for healing (my 12-step meetings and study of 12-step recovery stories and truths, taking walks with friends who are engaged in a similar process).

As I become aware and gently observe thought patterns that do me harm, I can journal and (especially) talk to others about what I am seeing. But it really gets exciting when I then turn to God to start giving Him my false beliefs and letting Him give me truth to replace those beliefs. I call this the divine find-and-replace process.

Again, I used to just expect Him to make my mind better, to make me feel better. I was confused and hurt and scared when He didn’t. This was an innocent desire, but an ignorant one.

I wanted a cure, but God wanted me to find the healing power of Christ.

I wanted instant relief, but now I realize He wants to give me more than that.

He wants to give me experience engaging Him in a very personal way. He wants to heal me at my core. It is a very individualized, sacred process. There are patterns of truth that appear in what others experience in this process (which is why I treasure my 12-step meetings), but the truths I practice believing are mine, from God, for me. I write them on my mirror and in my journal, and I ask support people to help me practice believing them. We practice believing together.

It is in identifying my personal pavilions —  my own fallen, false beliefs (again, many of which I developed when I was a tender child) — that I become ready for Him to teach me about who He really is. How He really feels about me.

I am coming to believe that this is what Alma talks about when he talked about exercising faith. Faith isn’t about outcomes. It’s about a process. For me, it’s about God helping me identify the weeds that were choking out my seed that has been there all along, wanting to grow. He is helping me prepare the ground of my mind to create more space for Him.

This kind of faith is so much different than when I was trying to somehow earn God’s fixing power by simply being more religious. Without meaning to, I was treating God like a vending machine by focusing on the quick-fix relief I wanted. I now understand that He wants to engage a sweeter-than-sweet-fruit process with me that I can plug into every day.

I am repeating myself, I know. But the principles and patterns in this process are so powerful!

It’s also important to know that I have not been magically cured of my OCD or anxiety (although the persistent, depressive state I was in is all but gone). My brain still has a tendency to get stuck very easily. But I have tools now. Tools and truth. I feel like I have been given new life.

And, interestingly enough, my weak things allow God to show me His strength. Were all of my mortal weaknesses taken from me, I don’t think I would desire to lean on Him like I do now. (The words of Paul and Moroni mean so much more to me now.)

This week, I’d like to share a few stories (including ones I have just across this past week) that reflect some of these tools and truths. Only one resource that I will share will be from the Twelve Step world; I realize that not everyone will need or benefit from 12-step work. But the principles found in this process are true, and they show up in a lot of different ways, in a lot of different tools and techniques. I gain confidence in truth when those patterns appear.

Because even as this is a spiritual process, it’s also a very earthy one. Our brains are part of our fallen selves, and when we can work with God to bring our thoughts more into alignment with spiritual truth, I think it’s a way for us to experience more of the joy that God intends for us in this life. Through this process, I am coming to believe that we can experience glimpses of resurrected joy on this side of the veil.

For man is spirit. The elements are eternal, and spirit and element…connected, receive…joy;

And when separated, man cannot receive a fulness of joy.

The elements are the tabernacle of God; yea, man is the tabernacle of God, even temples

I share these experiences, tools, and truth because I know there are others out there like me. I know there are many people who are suffering (sometimes ignorantly, often in silence) with their own shame and hamster-wheel thoughts, whether because of mental illnesses like anxiety, depression, OCD, bipolar or other disorders; childhood abuse or trauma; adult traumas — or simply just because we all have layers that develop because we are mortal. Through the journey we call life, our mortal brains find quick-fix ways to make sense of our world, and often the false beliefs and coping mechanisms that develop along the way take up space where God wants to give truth.

I hope that some of what is shared here can be helpful. I know God cares about your pain. Don’t give up on the process; the pain can actually show you where He wants to heal you. Find others who can help and who understand. There is hope! Healing is possible!

With love,

Michelle

MormonWoman.org admin

The post Tools and truth for healing false thoughts and beliefs appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

One of the things I appreciate about being a part of this effort is to read the words of my fellow brothers and sisters. Their perspectives and experience enrich my experience engaging the words of the prophets. Of course, we don’t want our posts to replace the words of the prophets, but we hope perhaps this project will inspire you in some way, as it has us.
The other posts from this week’s reading, which focused on the Friday Afternoon Session of the April 1973 General Conference, are at the bottom of the post. (I’ve also included links to last week’s posts, because, again, I’m batting about 500 right now in getting posts written.)

– – – –

Image credit: The copyright on this image is owned by Jonathan Billinger and is licensed for reuse under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 2.0 license.

I love the doctrine of agency. I used to stress a lot about it, because I was (am) a (recovering) perfectionist who believed that the goal of mortality was to never make mistakes. Oh, how I misunderstood the doctrine! I was trying to save myself! What need is there for a Savior if I can save myself?

That’s not to say that I’m here justifying making mistakes or sinning. That’s not it at all. It’s just that I’ve come to not fear the process of engaging my own imperfect, mortal, fallen messiness in the process of trying to live in obedience to God’s commandments.

I also have come to understand that two of the greatest hindrances to faith are shame and fear. I’ve heard it said that shame lives in the past and fear lives in the future. The only place we can exercise agency as mortals, however, is in the present.

Even Eastern philosophies, psychology, and other fields recognize the power of being present, being mindful, being deliberate. What these philosophies don’t have is the understanding of the Atonement — which is what buys us time and space — a probationary period — and makes it possible for us to surrender and learn from the past (learn from it but don’t live in it, paraphrasing Elder Holland).

One of the principles of healthy living that I have learned is “just do the next right thing.” This is one way I remind myself to stay in the present — to not look back at mistakes in shame or to look ahead to the future in fear. All God asks is for me to exercise agency in the now. The Atonement can cover the past as I learn from it, and God has the future of my life in His hands. [My] days are known and [my] years will not be numbered less.” I can follow His plan for me when I plug into doing whatever the right next thing is. The Spirit can help me know through the flow of my day what the next right thing is, if I will keep myself open to God’s guidance and will, and, as the scriptures say, not to the “will of the flesh.”

Wherefore, men are free according to the flesh; and all things are given them which are expedient unto man. And they are free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil; for he seeketh that all men might be miserable like unto himself.

And now, my sons, I would that ye should look to the great Mediator, and hearken unto his great commandments; and be faithful unto his words, and choose eternal life, according to the will of his Holy Spirit;

And not choose eternal death, according to the will of the flesh and the evil which is therein, which giveth the spirit of the devil power to captivate, to bring you down to hell, that he may reign over you in his own kingdom.

This principle was so beautifully taught in the talk by John H. Vandenberg entitled “The Agency of Man.”

[A]ll individuals are confronted with decisions to make every day, and whatever the choice, it is commensurate with the persuasion of the heart.

These persuasions of the heart are related to two opposing forces constantly at work within every human being. They are the forces of good and evil, which the Master referred to as God and mammon. Coupled with these forces is the individual’s power to reason, which only man, of all God’s creations, possesses. This enables him to make choices.

I like how Elder Vandenberg talks about how reason is part of the process. When we talk about following the Spirit, it’s a choice that we make, consciously, with our minds, to follow God and our best knowledge of what the next right thing will be.

One of the things that used to trip me up about all of this was the fear that maybe I would misread the Spirit and make a wrong choice. So I would still be in fear, still afraid of what might happen if I make the wrong choice. I now understand so much better that the very nature of this existence is to learn to make choices, and, as Elder Scott would often teach, sometimes the next right thing will be something we are left to reason out alone for a time. When our desires are right, eventually God will clarify for us in His way and time. This process of making choices, learning from our decisions and mistakes, and constantly seeking to understand and align ourselves with the Spirit of the Lord is what builds character. This is something Elder Scott would teach, and I loved reading similar words shared in this talk by Elder Vandenberg:

The forces governed by his own reasoning determine the nature and quality of the choice made. Thus, that which we call character is formed. We refer to this privilege of choice as the agency of man.

It was a timely talk, too, seeing as as I write, election day in my state has just passed. Elder Vandenberg quotes a Jim Love who says,

“[E]very day is election day, for throughout every hour of every day we each exercise our right of choice. We don’t have to have a local or national election in order to elect or vote. … A man’s election can determine the deciding vote for or against his own success. … You elect to gain a thorough knowledge of your business or you don’t. You elect to be honest or you don’t. You elect to save a part of what you earn or you don’t. You elect to always do your best or you don’t. And by your own election you will be defeated or you will succeed.” (Jim Love, R&R Magazine, Research and Review Service of America, Inc., vol. 10, p. 64.)”

(That’s a powerful concept for an election year, too, wouldn’t you say?)

“Choice is an element of human dignity,” says another person quoted in this talk.

One of the things I appreciated about Elder Vandenberg’s talk is that he made it clear that true reason is aligned with truth. (It’s hard not to just make the observation that in light of this idea, with which I agree, arguments about faith vs. reason really are false arguments.)

The knowledge on which to pursue our reasoning is in [the scriptures]” and words of the prophets.

I’ve been watching my 17-year-old son bring these principles to light. As he prepares for his mission, which is a short year away, he’s pondering how he can more closely align his life with God. I have been inspired watching him humbly take counsel from his dad and me, notice patterns in his life and the quiet nudgings from the Spirit to get off of plateaus that he was sensing, a desire to align his life with what the prophets are teaching (including using missionary preparation tools and assignments to reason through what that means). I told him tonight that one of the unexpected blessings of being a parent is to watch God at work in my children’s lives. It strengthens my testimony to see them wrestle through their problems and weaknesses, and engage true principles and practices, especially personal scripture study and prayer, to connect with God so that they can know what the next right things are in their lives.

As a mom, part of what it means to me to love the doctrine of agency is to watch myself and my tendency to want to control their lives, rather than let them learn by experience and live their lives. Of course, we do all we can as parents. We do daily scriptures and prayers, Family Home Evening, church meetings on Sundays, temple attendance, etc. We talk about prophetic teachings a lot as well.

But none of those things will have their full power unlocked in my life or in my children’s lives unless choices are made to act and align and assess and repent and continuously seek God’s personal guidance for the things that only God knows about their lives. I’m reminded of another teaching from Elder Scott who said that once you start to understand how personal revelation works, the surety you can feel can exceed what you can see with your natural eyes. Elder Vandenberg uses the words ‘convincing logic’ but to me it’s more than just logic. It’s light and light makes sense when you learn to trust and follow it.

The Lord’s call to us is: “Come now, and let us reason together. …” (Isa. 1:18.) He wants us to listen to and consider his doctrine. The scriptures tell us this: “… that men might be made partakers of the glories which were to be revealed, the Lord sent forth the fulness of his gospel, his everlasting covenant, reasoning in plainness and simplicity.” (D&C 133:57.)

He wants us to become acquainted with his gospel, to test it, to prove it, to participate in it, and to use it as a base on which to make our decisions. This is that men might base their choices on truth. When reason is joined with truth, there is convincing logic that sets up the path in our hearts that leads upward and onward to a nobler life.

Did I mention that I love the doctrine of agency? There is no Atonement without it. It is exciting to take one day at a time and to learn and grow “line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little and there a little.”

That which is of God is light; and he that receiveth light [and reasons in the light of truth], and continueth in God, receiveth more light; and that light groweth brighter and brighter until the perfect day.

I am so grateful to know of the doctrine of the plan of God, within which the doctrine of agency is central. I used to be afraid of all the choices, but now I am learning to embrace the delightful discovery process of learning to trust light and truth, to trust God, and to seek for the divine help and courage to act upon whatever truth becomes clear through study and faith. I find that God’s mercy is greater than I ever imagined, even when sometimes I make mistakes or get lazy. But I really find His power when I act. Faith truly is a principle of action and of power.

I would recommend this talk. It is full of great quotes and many powerful scriptures too numerous to share here.

And I would recommend reading thoughts from my friends about what inspired them from this week’s reading (and last week’s reading).

– Reason and Truth Rattling Around My Brain by Nathaniel Givens
http://difficultrun.nathanielgivens.com/…/reason-and-truth-…

– Watchman, Warn the Wicked by G
http://www.jrganymede.com/20…/…/28/watchman-warn-the-wicked/

– Moral Foundations and Sacred Testimony by Daniel Ortner
https://symphonyofdissent.wordpress.com/…/moral-foundation…/

– Doubts and People by Walker Wright
http://difficultrun.nathanielgivens.com/…/06/28/doubts-peo…/

– That Which is of Most Value by SilverRain
http://rainscamedown.blogspot.com/…/that-which-is-of-most-v…

Are We Listening to Their Warnings? by Jan Tolman
http://www.ldswomenofgod.com/are-we-listening-to-their-war…/

– The Political is Personal by Marilyn Nielson
http://light-in-leaves.blogspot.com/…/the-political-is-pers…

Here’s the list of posts from last week, featuring thoughts from the  Friday morning session of the April 1973 General Conference:

– Leadership in the Kingdom by Nathaniel Givens
http://difficultrun.nathanielgivens.com/…/leadership-in-th…/

– Japan is for the Japanese by G
http://www.jrganymede.com/…/japanese-saints-american-saints/

– Individual Testimonies of the Divinity of this Work by Daniel Ortner
https://symphonyofdissent.wordpress.com/…/individual-testi…/

– “In the Kingdom of Our Heavenly Father No Man is a ‘Nobody.’” byWalker Wright
http://difficultrun.nathanielgivens.com/…/in-the-kingdom-o…/

– So Simple a Call by SilverRain
http://rainscamedown.blogspot.com/2016/…/so-simple-call.html

– It must begin with you personally by Marilyn Nielson
http://light-in-leaves.blogspot.com/…/it-must-begin-with-yo…

The post #ldsconf Odyssey: Just do the next right thing appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

Photo credit: MadGeographer, under Creative Commons license

Anyone who knows me would attest to the fact that my life is a mess. My schedule is a mess. My house is a mess. My health is a mess. My brain is often a mess. (For Christmas, my kids gave me a phone case that says, “My brain has too many tabs open.” Isn’t that awesome?) And yes, my computer is a mess, too.

There might be some mess that my children will remember as they reflect on their growing-up years, but I hope they will remember that, with very few exceptions, we did some sort of scriptures or spiritual thought and prayer together every day. I may be a mess in a lot of ways, but I take seriously the counsel to be “brilliant in the basics.”

Now that my children are teenagers and their lives and schedules are helter-skelter, family scripture study more often than not is one-on-one time with Mom. (I’m the night owl, so husband does morning shift and I do nights.)

And as they have gotten older, the dynamic of scripture study has organically shifted to me asking them to share, rather than me sharing something with them. It’s been simply amazing to hear their thoughts and to feel and see God working in their lives. God has worked in my life, through them.

This past week is an example. I had a very hard week with some difficult medical tests. My husband was out of town. I had some sort of problem with one of the tests, and ended up  in the ER with serious pain. In the middle of this, though, God provided help through kind friends at just the right time. And I felt peace even in the face of the anxiety that comes with experiences like this.

On Saturday, in my one-on-one time with my 17-year-old son, I said the usual, “Do you have something to share?” That day he had given a devotional thought at our ward youth conference, and he chose to share that with me. The thought was simple yet profound (and I paraphrase):

“We can’t endure to the end [which is a concept from the youth theme this year in 2 Nephi 31:20], without having an eternal perspective. It’s simply not possible.”

When I started reading the General Conference talks for this week, I had originally planned to write about N. Eldon Tanner’s talk on not judging. But my son’s share lingered in my mind and when I saw similar messages in the talks, I felt that should be the message to focus on this week in my post.

Both Marvin J. Ashton (“What is your destination?“) and Thomas S. Monson (“‘Finishers Wanted‘”) addressed this topic of endurance.

Then-Elder Monson said:

“From the very beginning to the present time, a fundamental question remains to be answered by each who runs the race of life. Shall I falter or shall I finish? On the answer await the blessings of joy and happiness here in mortality and eternal life in the world to come.”

Elder Ashton’s approach was a little different, speaking more to how Latter-day Saints might look wrongly at means as ends, and thus miss the mark.

“I am concerned that many of us are confused in our life’s travels with destinations, arrivals, stops, calls, stations, and assignments. It appears to me that some of us may be lost today because we think we have arrived….

“Have you arrived when you go to the temple? Is temple marriage your destination? …Oftentimes there are real dangers in our lives when we allow lofty ideals and goals, such as temple marriage, to become an end instead of a means. All of our priorities must be properly placed within the framework of eternity if we are to avoid the stagnations of arriving.

“I humbly bear witness to you today that an honorably completed mission, a celestial marriage, a valued testimony, a position of major responsibility in the Church are not destinations in the lives of true Latter-day Saints. They can be important aids in eternal progression. They will not save you and me in the kingdom of God.”

Elder Ashton’s words caused me to pause and reflect on lessons I feel God has been teaching me as of late. I realize that I’ve gotten stuck in thinking about arrivals or destinations in other ways. I use the words “outcomes” vs. “process.”

For example, when I started the week last week, all I wanted was for the tests to go well. This reflects how I have often thought during my years with health issues. For the first several years of this struggle, the focus of my faith was simply to get better. I became disheartened and confused when that outcome did not happen. I thought I must be doing something wrong because I hadn’t arrived at a place of good health. I had similar thoughts and struggles when I was single for many years longer than I thought I would be. Was my faith not strong enough? I could cite other examples. It’s so easy to want outcomes.

Only in recent years, even recent weeks and days, have I come to realize with more clarity what the prophets teach: that God’s purposes in my life are not to prevent all pain or struggle. His primary purpose is to allow me opportunities to come to know and trust Him in the mess, and to truly become changed through faith on Jesus Christ. Changed from a being who is driven by fear and willfulness to a child who is willing to learn from life’s lessons.

As Elder Oaks taught (sharing words from a loved one): “Our…faith is in Jesus Christ, and is not dependent on outcomes.”

I am coming to realize that it really is no small thing to endure well in faith. But there is nothing sweeter than to feel glimpses of heaven, and to have the knowledge through tender mercies and quiet whisperings of the Spirit’s that testify that God really is in charge and can be trusted. To remember and trust eternal truths we once knew before this life really is why we are here on earth.

I end where I began: with my messy life. I do not seek to give excuses for my weakness and shortcomings, and yet I am grateful that God is showing me that He really means it when He says through His servants that “our direction is more important than our speed” (Elder Larry Lawrence, “What Lack I Yet?“). I am grateful to know that God isn’t looking for perfection in my life, but He is hoping I will look to Him for strength to endure in faith. He’s not looking for me to arrive; He just wants me to come — to come to Christ. He isn’t keeping score of all the times I fall; He just wants me to keep on trying, keep on working, keep on walking.

As Elder Monson taught, “… the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong. …” (Eccl. 9:11.) This echoes what President Uchtdorf taught just last October: “We don’t acquire eternal life in a sprint—this is a race of endurance.”

I believe my messy mortal self will never stop wanting linear outcomes, quick fixes, easy answers, and concrete arrivals. I’m grateful for reminders like I had this week through life’s stuff, through the inspired insight from my son, and through these 1972 talks (and 2015 talks) that enduring through faith in the Savior is what I really want.

The post Enduring in Faith appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

One of the things I appreciate about being a part of this effort is to read the words of my fellow brothers and sisters. Their perspectives and experience enrich my experience engaging the words of the prophets. Of course, we don’t want our posts to replace the words of the prophets, but we hope perhaps this project will inspire you in some way, as it has us.

The other posts from this week’s reading, which focused on the Saturday Afternoon Session of the October 1971 General Conference, are at the bottom of the post.

– – – – –

My brothers and sisters, it is my desire and hope that I might say something meaningful to those who find themselves confused, discouraged, and lost in this mixed-up world—something that will give each one encouragement and faith that there is a way to find oneself.

So begins Victor L. Brown in his October 1971 talk, “I Was in Prison, and Ye Came Unto Me.”

I write this post with similar hopes.

In this mortal world, where the veil blocks our view and understanding of what we knew when we lived with God before, it is no wonder that sometimes we feel alone, afraid, confused, and overwhelmed. My head knows the truths of the gospel; I can give all the answers about why I shouldn’t feel alone, afraid, confused, or overwhelmed. But sometimes in my mortal weakness, I still do. (Perhaps you do at times, too?)

When I’m feeling this way, personal stories of hope and healing reach my heart faster than just about anything.

Before reviewing Elder Brown’s talk, I would like to share one of my favorite stories of hope and healing, from a friend named Mark. I hope you will take a moment to watch this video.

Mark had spent five years in the Arizona State prison system and immediately ended up in trouble with the law, which landed him back in the criminal justice system. For nine years.

He talks of having “unmistakable feelings that God was reaching out.”

“God, I believe that you’re there, and I believe that you are trying to help me. What I don’t understand is why. Why would you want to help me – I’m a convict, I’m an addict, I’m an alcoholic and I haven’t tried to follow you? Why would you want to try to help me?”

The answer? “It’s because I love you.”

Mark gained a conviction of God’s reality and a testimony of the Church. He was able to serve a mission. He went to BYU. After a hard break-up with a girlfriend, the hole in his soul that he’d tried to fill with addiction started to call to him again, and he ended up back in addictive behavior, including using, living on the streets, and robbing a store at gunpoint. As Mark sat in the bushes, hiding from the police after the robbery, the horror of what he had done hit him. He felt so hypocritical — after all, God had saved him already once before, and he felt he had thrown that away. And now he had caused terror in the life of another human being as he had held up the store.

Mark had the gun, this time pointed toward himself, ready to end his life.

And then the words came clearly to his mind:

“I’m still here.”

Mark followed the prompting to turn himself in. He spent nine more years in the prison system, and with the help of 12 steps (a guide to the Atonement), turned his life around. He is now married with a son and shares his tender, powerful testimony with others as a missionary in the Church’s Addiction Recovery Program.

– – – –

I grew up in a strong home, with parents who loved each other and the gospel. I was a good kid, a rule-follower, always active in the Church, always the obedient child (except with that eighth grade science teacher — I don’t know what my deal was with him, but I was such an obnoxious student in that class). I served a mission at 21, loved serving in the Church in college, in graduate school, as a young single adult starting my career on the East coast, as a young married, and as a young mother.

But even with my testimony and all my church activity, I had my own hole in the soul. I loved God as well as I knew how — by serving Him and being obedient — and was devoted to His work. But, quite frankly, I also feared Him (and not in the way the scriptures encourage us to fear God). I perceived Him more like a referee waiting for me to make a mistake, than a Father ever-ready to help and lift me. I could genuinely testify of and believe in His love for others, but I always worried that I wasn’t doing enough to deserve His love myself. I felt His guidance in my life decisions, but I didn’t ever feel settled, safe in His arms. That unsettledness only added to my shame, because I was a good Mormon! I knew I should feel better, happy. But I often didn’t.

Real struggles with anxiety and depression surely contributed to some of this struggle, to be sure. But over the past few years, I have come to realize that at the core of my unsettledness — that hole in my soul — was a set of false beliefs about God that I’d been carrying around my whole life. I was in my own kind of prison without really knowing it, definitely not knowing how to get out.

Joseph Smith taught: “It is the first principle of the gospel to know for a certainty the character of God.” “I want you all to know Him,” he said, “and to be familiar with Him.” ² We must have “a correct idea of his … perfections, and attributes,” an admiration for “the excellency of [His] character.” ³ (Quoted by Elder Holland in “The Grandeur of God.”)

Stories like Mark’s have helped me come to understand the nature of God more fully.

No wonder I liked Elder Brown’s talk.

– – – –

Jim and Ed found God and the Church in an “unlikely setting” — the prison system. Just like Mark, these were men who had spent years wandering aimlessly in life, violating laws of God and the land. And, in God’s way at time, they also discovered a loving God ready and waiting to help them.

Jim’s story was one of a broken home and painful childhood. He got in trouble with the law. But while there, he was introduced to an LDS chaplain.

“Even though he found himself in prison, he had taken the first step to a freedom he had not known existed.

“After a few weeks of exposure to the program of the Church specially designed for prison life, he said he was able to give up smoking. He became involved in the various religious programs sponsored by the Church social service agency. He said, “I haven’t smoked a cigarette since that day. I haven’t had a cup of coffee since December of last year.” He goes on to tell of the good feeling of accomplishment in overcoming bad personal habits.

“He also tells about the family home evening program conducted by his home teachers. He explained that he would have given up in discouragement many times had it not been for this wonderful couple who had been assigned as his home teachers. He said they actually loved him as a son, something he had never experienced in his life, even as a little boy. In his own words: “I have been in this program since June 16, 1970. For these sixteen months, I probably made more changes in my life—inside these walls away from the rat race of society—that I know are going to determine my whole future more than the first twenty-three years of my life before prison. I had no idea at all what the LDS people were or what the Church was until I went to prison.

“I am not proud of being in prison, but I am proud of my experience while being there.”

Jim graduated from the Church’s inmate Institute program, and was, at the time of the talk, planning to prepare for baptism after he had paid his debt to society.

Ed also was ministered to through a loving couple and family who loved him like their own flesh and blood. He graduated from the inmate Institute program, and was asked to speak at the graduation services that Elder Brown had attended.

As he stood at the pulpit, he took a piece of paper from his pocket. Holding it up to the audience, he said: “You probably can’t read this, but this is the most important document in my life. This is my baptismal recommend that will permit me to be baptized next Thursday.” Ed was baptized. After his confirmation, he walked over to a corner of the room where he could be alone and wept. He wept even more when he was ordained a deacon in the Aaronic Priesthood.

I love how Elder Brown ends his talk by saying that

There are many who find themselves in circumstances similar to those of Jim and Ed—not necessarily confined to a correctional institution, but nevertheless in prison, a prison from which legal authorities cannot release them, a prison of personal habits such as alcohol, drugs, immorality, selfishness, dishonesty, laziness, aimlessness; yes, these can be more confining and damning than any state prison.

I submit that we all have our chains that bind us, and not all are as obvious as some of the ones listed above. Take, for example, this list of things mentioned in Elder A. Theodore Tuttle’s talk from 1971. He quotes a Deseret News article:

“’We chase paychecks, and don’t give a second look to the glint of the rising sun on a snow-topped peak.

“’We chase our way through the appointments of a crowded desk calendar, and fail to take time to chat with the next-door neighbor or to drop in on a sick friend.

“’We chase social pleasures on a glittering noisy treadmill—and ignore the privilege of a quiet hour telling bedtime stories to an innocent-eyed child.

“’We chase prestige and wealth, and don’t recognize the real opportunities for joy that cross our paths. …’”

Elder Tuttle continues:

“Someone rephrased this thought: ‘Too often we are involved in the thick of thin things.’

In modern revelation the Lord said:

“Behold, there are many called, but few are chosen. And why are they not chosen?

“Because their hearts are set so much upon the things of this world, and aspire to the honors of men. …” (D&C 121:34–35.)

Here is instruction to straighten out our values.

Note again the admonition: “their hearts are set so much upon the things of this world”—not on the things of the spirit. And they “aspire to the honors of men,” rather than seeking approval of God.

Or take the things that have kept me imprisoned through so much of my life — things like fear of the future, obsessed perfectionism, “performance=worth” beliefs, insecurity, feelings of being “not enough.” My way of aspiring to honors of men came simply in wanting approval and reassurance in my insecurities, and never wanting to say ‘no’ because I worried about what people would think of me if I did.

And somehow I did not believe that I could get assurances from God in that personal way.

So when I started to hear stories like Mark’s when I brought my perfectionistic, people-pleasing self to the 12-step program, I started to consider that if God can reach out to someone who has just robbed a bank, could He not reach out to me with the same kind of clear, direct, personal love?

If He will find someone in prison and give them freedom, can He not do that for you in whatever may be keeping you feeling stuck in your life?

As mortals, we are find ourselves prisoners in one way or another at times. The message of the gospel of Jesus Christ is that we are all free, through Him, if we will receive what He has done for us and let Him change us, calm us, comfort us, help us.

As I pondered this week’s readings, I was reminded of a favorite scripture that was one my mission trainer and I would cheer en voz alta while leaving our apartment.

“[S]hall we not go on in so great a cause? Go forward and not backward. Courage, brethren; and on, on to the victory! Let your hearts rejoice, and be exceedingly glad. Let the earth break forth into singing. Let the dead speak forth anthems of eternal praise to the King Immanuel, who hath ordained, before the world was, that which would enable us to redeem them out of their prison; for the prisoners shall go free.”

This scripture is written about the salvation for those who have passed on without the gospel in their lives through temple ordinance work for the dead. But as I reflected on Elder Brown’s talk, I felt that it is a scripture about all of us. We can all be redeemed from our prisons, raised from our own spiritual death — whatever may separate or distract us from the love of God — through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

“Avanzad, en vez de retroceder. ¡Valor, hermanos; e id adelante, adelante a la victoria!”

– – – –

Other posts from this week’s General Conference Odyssey:

The post “The prisoners shall go free” appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

Last night, my family went shopping for a car lease. I was trained in my business/finance classes to never, ever accept gap insurance with a lease. But in one of the lease products, the gap insurance was a built-in feature. We had no choice. I wasn’t too thrilled about this, until my husband shared his opinion about why, in our situation, he liked the concept.

The car we are possibly going to get is for our teenage drivers. Through no fault of their own — just given the fact that they are young and inexperienced — the chance that our children may have a fender bender or accident is not remote. (Heaven help us that any such event be minor!) Gap insurance is there to protect us and the leasing company against the automatic loss that would come if there was an accident or other harm to the car. As such, we could turn the keys over to the leasing company at the end of the lease and walk away in peace, without having to carry the burden of the loss ourselves.

I’m thinking about gap insurance as I try to assimilate the messages from the Tuesday session of the 1971 General Conference.

As we see in the patterns of teachings in General Conference, we are often presented the ideal. For example, it’s been interesting, but not surprising, to see the many patterns already emerging in the General Conference talks we have read so far in our General Conference Odyssey: One of the key messages is that of the importance of marriage and family. Talks like those from James A. Cullimore (“Marriage is intended to be eternal“) and Marion D. Hanks (“Practicing What We Preach“) from this week’s Odyssey study give counsel that paint pictures of the ideal family life, even teach that this is our covenant responsibility to strive for.

This painting-through-preaching can often help many people do just that — strive for improvement in healthy, attainable ways. One of the key reasons for family life is to, as Elder Hanks says, practice what we preach and what we believe about love, patience, forgiveness, and so on.

And yet, teachings about the ideal also can create a sense of pain and deep loss and grief for those who are currently experiencing a significant difference between that ideal and the real.

As I read these two talks about marriage and family life, I felt some of that pain on behalf of so many people I know experiencing that gap — some through no fault of their own because of the sins and struggles of family members they love.

And which of us has not felt the pain of our own human, fallen, less-than-ideal behavior as we struggle in our inexperience — and sometimes even cause harm through accident or even willful mistake or sin? Some of my most agonizing life moments have been when I have seen my weakness as a mother. I love my children so very much, and I want them to have the best. But I have not often been at my best. In fact,  just as there is only one way my children can learn to drive (by driving), there was only one way I could learn to be a mother (by mothering).

The truth is that we are here to learn by experience, not to magically attain perfection simply because we believe in ideals, values, commandments, and doctrines. We practice what we preach. And practicing means making lots of mistakes along the way.

I only wish I’d understood — really understood — more about the Atonement when I was a young mother. (But, alas, learning about the Atonement is something we also learn by experience!)

We as mortals are wired to avoid pain, however. And sometimes, we as Mormons sometimes want to avoid pain by softening the ideal in some way. I have witnessed dozens, if not hundreds of times, this inclination — including sometimes in myself — to somehow wish the hurt could be reduced by hearing less or having others cushion the gap for us. (How many times I cringed at motherhood talks as I wrestled with my momma weakness, for example.)

But I have come to believe that this is not God’s way.

I see at least two reasons why we need the ideal so, so desperately in our lives, even when it may cause some pain.

One reason is explained beautifully by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland in one of my all-time favorite talks. This was not from a General Conference, but from a Worldwide Training meeting.

Elder Holland’s message was entitled “General Patterns, Specific Lives” (text here, audio/video here). He was addressing why it was that in a worldwide meeting about marriage and family, single young adults were deliberately invited. He also reached out with love to those whose lives don’t meet the ideal, acknowledging without question that that reality is known and cared about by our leaders. Nevertheless, he unapologetically taught that

“….General Authorities and general officers are called to teach His general rules. You and we then lead specific lives and must seek the Lord’s guidance regarding specific circumstances. But there would be mass confusion and loss of gospel promises if no general ideal and no doctrinal standard were established and, in our case today, repeated. We take great strength in knowing the Lord has spoken on these matters, and we accept His counsel even when it might not be popular.

And even when they know it might be painful. I see in his teachings an invitation to a sort of consecrated mindset that we don’t often talk or think about. We are in a very real sense called to support, sustain, teach, and preach the ideal, even when our lives don’t match it, because that ideal is a way God protects all of His children — especially those who would have no way to find it because their lives are so very not-ideal…sometimes for generations on end.

Thank you for understanding why we are concerned about protecting all members of families, whatever your age, and why we speak in opposition to trends or forces that would seek to destroy any aspect of God’s eternal plan of happiness. How grateful we are that the Lord has said, “I will give unto you a pattern in all things, that ye may not be deceived” (D&C 52:14).

I think there is another reason for the ideal, one that, once we know the ideal, is so very essential to our mortal and eternal journey. I believe the scriptures teach us (I am thinking of 2 Nephi 2 and many of the teachings of Paul, in particular) that the ideal is given so that we can experience the pain of the gap it creates — not because God is some sadistic being, but because we are here to then learn to experience the power of His rescuing love through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

We are here to be saved, covered, helped, carried, sustained. Rescued.

In this 1971 session of Conference, Thomas S. Monson spoke. And wouldn’t you know it? He spoke about service and rescuing those in need, especially those in isolation, suffering from hard mortality reality situations.  After sharing some World War I history about the Meuse-Argonne offensive and the “crusade of love” to rescue a battalion surrounded by its enemy forces, Elder Monson urged members to

“…turn from the past and survey the present. Are there “lost battalions” even today? If so, what is our responsibility to rescue them? Their members may not wear clothes of khaki brown nor march to the sound of drums. But they share the same doubt, feel the same despair, and know the same disillusionment that isolation brings.”

What can bring a sense of isolation to a life? The list is limitless. Some things come of choice and agency, some come of ignorance and inexperience, and some simply come because we are mortal. Beyond the reminder to serve and reach out and rescue others, I want to focus primarily on this point from Elder Monson’s talk:

In reality, each one of us is numbered in what could well have been the lost battalion of mankind, even a battalion doomed to everlasting death….

And each of us face the effects of spiritual death — our separation from God while living in this sphere — every day. Each of us is part of the lost battalion, every day. We are here both to get a body (so we can someday have a resurrected body) and to learn in this imperfect, less-than-perfect experience to let that ideal-vs.-real gap bring us to God.

“[J]ust as a man does not really desire food until he is hungry, so he does not desire the salvation of Christ until he knows why he needs Christ.

“No one adequately and properly knows why he needs Christ until he understands and accepts the doctrine of the Fall and its effect upon all mankind.” (President Ezra Taft Benson, A Witness and a Warning [1988], 33)

The chasm and pain created by the teachings about the ideal (and our inability to reach all ideals, all the time) can help us come to feel and understand the reality of the doctrine of the fall! If we understand that doctrine — really experience and taste of the bitterness of our less-than-ideal-ness — we are prepared to truly receive the Atonement into our lives.

Yes, we are all the “lost batallion,” but the battle is already won. The loss is already covered. All we need to do is accept what is already built into God’s merciful, brutiful plan. [Thanks, Glennon Melton, for that awesome word.]

All we need to do is give the keys of our lives over to God and let Him bring us peace.

I loved how then-Elder Monson ends his talk.

Of him who delivered each of us from endless death, I testify he is a teacher of truth—but he is more than a teacher. He is the exemplar of the perfect life—but he is more than an exemplar. He is the great physician—but he is more than a physician. He who rescued the “lost battalion” of mankind is the literal Savior of the world, the Son of God, the Prince of Peace, the Holy One of Israel, even the risen Lord, who declared, “I am the first and the last; I am he who liveth, I am he who was slain; I am your advocate with the Father.” (D&C 110:4.)

We don’t have to wait until our lease on life is over to experience the blessings of the Atonement. Yes, the Savior of the World bridges the gap of death for us all, but He will also bridge the gap that our fallenness creates — now, today, if we will let Him. He offers daily, everlasting coverage during this life, both from our own messy, mortal processes and also from the effects of others’ recklessness and wrongdoing.

He is our gap insurance today, now, and forever.

So the next time you feel the sting of a talk or post or picture about the ideal (either from our prophets or through your social media stream), one that brings your less-than-ideal self or life to mind, remember the heart of the gospel message.

(I write for myself as much for anyone.)

Remember Him. Let Him bridge the gap.

Other posts from this week’s General Conference Odyssey reading:

Saving the Lost Battalions by Nathaniel Givens

The Secret Life of Mormons by G

“I Have that Witness” by Daniel Ortner”

Knowledge — On Whose Terms? by Ralph Hancock

LDS Conference April 1971 — Profound Spiritual Experiences in an Elevator by J. Max Wilson

A Prophet from the Get Go

Escaping “The Box” Through Families

The post Gap Insurance (#ldsconf Odyssey) appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

It’s been quite a firestorm online since the news was leaked that a policy change around the children of same-sex couples was made this week. Here is the official video, an interview with Elder D. Todd Christofferson, that gives some context and explanation about the policy change. (You can also watch the video and read the transcript at this Mormon Newsroom link.)

The whole gamut of reactions has shown up on social media. There are some for whom this policy was a logical clarification of already-clear doctrine about marriage between a man and woman being central to God’s plan. There are many for whom the policy raised questions, especially as to why children of same-sex couples were so directly affected by this policy. There are some who are angry and some who feel deep hurt on behalf of those this policy will affect. And, of course, there are some who are misrepresenting and demonizing this policy — an unfortunate but not surprising response. (Stating the obvious, there will always be a range of responses to something so charged.)

For me, the surprise I felt lasted only minutes and my feelings quickly settled into a sense of gratitude for clarity in a complex and continually-changing political, cultural, and social landscape. The issue of same-sex marriage as it relates to my faith is something I have thought and pondered for a decade and a half, perhaps more than almost any other topic except perhaps doctrine relating directly to Mormon women.

I shared some initial reflections on my personal Facebook wall as to why this policy made sense to me, and as people engaged with me, it quickly became clear (although not surprising) that the range of emotions and reactions was broad and varied. I was grateful for people who would engage in conversation and share their thoughts, because I think we benefit when we seek to understand others and also feel safe to engage and be honest even when disagreeing.

I hope that we can all be sensitive to those around us and to that range of feelings that people are having right now. Our leaders have told us repeatedly that it’s okay to have questions. As Elder Christofferson noted yet again, it’s not okay to advocate against the leaders, but it’s okay to wrestle and, when necessary, even pound on the door of heaven for understanding, peace, perspective, and insight.

I fear that there is a misconception that people either completely agree with this policy or completely disagree. What I’m seeing is that a fair number of people are wrestling. There is a tension here that Elder Christofferson captures quite beautifully that can be hard to navigate: How do we reach out in love to all our brothers and sisters, while also unflinchingly upholding the now-all-the-more-clear divine mandates around the doctrine of marriage between a man and a woman, and the corollary to that doctrine, which is that sexual relations are only sanctioned by God when between a legally married husband and wife, man and woman? And how can you not feel a tug at your heart for the children who are and will be affected by all of this?

My husband and I had a chat with our nephew and his wife yesterday. (Incidentally, our nephew is the author of this post, which went wildly viral on Friday, a post that has incited a lot of vitriol online. How easy it can be to demonize someone you don’t know. Love needs to flow both ways. This can be hard not just for those who are affected by the policy, but for those who support it.)

I am sobered by the reality that for some, a change like this can feel like the last straw in a years-long wrestle around this issue. The thought that came to mind was that it can feel, for some, very Abraham-like. It can feel impossible, baffling.

I was reminded of this quote tonight, and am struck by how relevant it feels because of the perplexing nature of Abraham’s test (and because of the tender feelings of a loving parent that were involved in what he faced):

“I heard Joseph Smith say and I presume Brother Snow heard him also-in preaching to the Twelve in Nauvoo, that the Lord would get hold of their heart strings and wrench them, and that they would have to be tried as Abraham was tried. And Joseph said that if God had known any other way whereby he could have touched Abraham’s feelings more acutely and more keenly he would have done so. It was not only his parental feelings that were touched. There was something else besides. He had the promise that in him and in his seed all the nations of the earth should be blessed; that his seed should be multiplied as the stars of the heaven and as the sand upon the sea shore. He had looked forward through the vista of future ages and seen, by the spirit of revelation, myriads of his people rise up through whom God would convey intelligence, light and salvation to a world. But in being called upon to sacrifice his son it seemed as though all his prospects pertaining to posterity were come to naught. But he had faith in God, and he fulfilled the thing that was required of him. Yet we cannot conceive of anything that could be more trying and more perplexing than the position in which he was placed (Journal of Discourses 24:264).”

There is little someone like me who isn’t walking that path with this particular policy can say to take away that pain. It’s just there. But I do believe that we each have to walk our Mount Moriahs. I have felt tastes of such tormenting tensions in my life, and there have been times they have almost broken me — some quite recently, in fact. When you are backed against the wall of faith, it can feel like it may press life out of your soul.

But I have come to believe all the more as I have walked some of my own personal Moriahs that this is some of what we are here to experience — not because God is some sadistic being, but because there is no other way to truly come to trust Him unless you aren’t up against something impossible, unmanageable, beyond mortal reach and understanding. Paraphrasing Ezra Taft Benson, we all will find times when we are backed against the wall of faith.

If I may, let me take you back to the conversation yesterday. As the four of us sat and shared our thoughts, I envisioned those who may be feeling like Abraham might have felt — afraid, perplexed, pressed, baffled. I pictured Father Abraham walking up Mount Moriah, alone. What a walk that must have been! No one could walk that path for him. His choice to make that journey of faith was between him and his God. (Even President Gordon B. Hinckley, the quintessential optimist, described the road back to God as a lonely one, one requiring deep faith.)

And surely, if people had know what Abraham was going to do, many would have declared him insane at best and evil at worst.

But rather than being left with the image of a lonely Abraham, I am grateful for the insight my husband shared about this seemingly-impossible scriptural story. Yes, Abraham had to pass this test. Only he could decide if he would follow through with what God told him to do.

But he did not walk up Mount Moriah alone.

His son, Isaac, was there, walking beside him. As my husband reminded us, Isaac is a type for the Savior. He is the One who walks with each of us, the One who actually was sacrificed on our behalf. He is our ram in the thicket, the One who exemplifies both perfect love and taught the law that leads back to God. He is the One who can help us through our heartrending trials. He is the One who makes compensatory blessings possible — for example, to children who cannot be baptized for a time.

He is the answer to it all, whatever it may be.

We can (and I think we should) keep an open dialogue about all of these issues, and allow people to be where they are in their journey with it all. I firmly believe that those who seek insight and understanding from God will, in God’s way and time — line upon line — receive insight, help, comfort, and clarity.

But perhaps more than anything, I pray that especially those of us not in pain right now will prayerfully be ready to reach out to those who are struggling, ready when the Spirit prompts to testify that they do not walk their paths alone. God is there, and the Atonement of Jesus Christ is real. We can all come to know and feel and realize that as we walk our own journeys in spite of — and perhaps more particularly because of — our Mount Moriah experiences. Abraham would not have known the power of his own faith and the wonder of the angel and the ram had he not walked that lonely road in faith.

God bless those of you who may be walking such mountains now. Know that you are loved and cared for by many, most especially by God and His Son.

The post Pondering Policy, Mortality, and Mount Moriah appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

Easter this year means more to me than perhaps it ever has…probably for the very reasons listed above. My need for God has been heightened. My need to know of and hold to tender mercies more poignant — even desperate — than ever.

I wish I could put into words what I’m discovering, but suffice it to say that I know the Atonement is real. Daily bread is real. Tender mercies are real. Spring does come.

Jesus is everything. Life, breath, everything.

If you are experiencing winter, I pray you can feel some Breath sometime soon.

Happy Easter.

The post Life, Breath, Easter appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

~by Stephen R. Thomas 

We are all preparing to listen to general conference [this weekend] to hear what our prophet and apostles and other leaders have to say to us.  While many of us will receive their messages with joy and enjoyment, others of us may find ourselves, consciously or unconsciously, inwardly resisting some aspects of what is said.  I have experienced hearing the words of our leaders in both states of mind, and I believe that the difference lies in…the degree of our understanding of the Savior’s atoning role in our salvation.

Let me begin by describing a little of my own history with hearing our prophet and other leaders at conference.  As a child, I enjoyed conference quite a bit because it meant that we could go to church in the family room dressed in our pajamas while eating fresh-baked muffins.  Always the musician, I also thought I did a pretty good job of conducting the Tabernacle Choir from the sofa.  As I got older, though, and listened more carefully, I noticed that there were a lot of instructions in the talks, and I tried to understand what I was supposed to do to follow them.  Eventually, I started to feel like maybe there were a few too many good ideas to incorporate in my life all at once, but also felt like I needed to do it anyway.  I did my best, but eventually I started to feel discouraged by listening to conference.  By the time I was a teen, it seemed that I could never keep up with what I perceived was being asked, and it felt like one big guilt trip.  I still dutifully did what I could, but felt burdened until enough time had gone by that I more or less fell back into my usual routine and forgot about it until the next conference.

This pattern continued for a long time.  I still remember the shock I felt one day when, in anticipating the next conference, one of my friends said that for him conference was just like Christmas.  I stared at him in disbelief, and thought something must be wrong with me.  I had a testimony, but I felt completely unable to live up to what I thought the messages were telling me, and so I felt more dread than joyous anticipation of conference.

Later on, however, I realized that there was a very important ingredient missing in my gospel understanding.  I was always drawn to the Savior’s words in Matthew 11:28-30:  “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”  I loved these words, and longed to feel what the Savior described, yet I felt far too often that doing everything right in the church was more of a burden than a blessing, and I felt in fact heavy laden by the things I perceived I was to do in order to “come unto Him.”  I asked myself:  If this is what it means to come to Him, how could his yoke be called “easy” or “light?” The lists of all I felt I had to do were endless, and that I could endlessly be doing them all better:  home teaching, service projects, callings, fulfilling my role as a husband, father and breadwinner, paying tithing and offerings, attending all kinds of church meetings, keeping all of the rules of thoughts and behavior that we as church members do as we strive to observe the 13^th article of faith and other commandments, staying fit and healthy, loving my enemies, being kind and patient, seeking that which is praiseworthy, and on and on.  It seemed that conference just added more things to the list or pointed out the ways in which my attempts to keep up with everything I was already trying to do were inadequate. 

So what did the Savior mean by “coming to Him” in order to find rest?  I thought, wow, I could use some rest!  And yet I couldn’t imagine that he meant “Come unto me and don’t bother with the commandments.  In fact, take a few days off from your duties.”  There had to be something more to what this scripture meant. 

Through much time spent in soul searching and prayer, I eventually understood what was missing:  even though I believed in the gospel and had a testimony, I really had not fully understood what was needed.  I had not experienced what the scriptures called conversion or being born again.  (Mosiah 27:25-26).  I was still laboring under the assumption that my spiritual success was all up to me and that I had to save myself primarily through my own efforts.  I saw Jesus Christ as a somewhat distant figure who we were supposed to imitate strictly on our own power.  I had not yet understood that the way to accomplish the way back home to our Father in Heaven was not through mere outward compliance, which would always be inadequate, but through a complete inner change of heart.   This is described in Mosiah 5:2 as those listening to King Benjamin exclaimed that they were converted “because of the Spirit of the Lord Omnipotent, which has wrought a mighty change in us, or in our hearts, that we have no more disposition to do evil, but to do good continually.”

I did not understand that it was hopeless to attempt to live the gospel without this change that could only be wrought through the Spirit and that neither I nor anyone could ever do enough or be enough on my own to succeed.  No wonder I felt burdened by the messages I perceived in conference!  I was trying to do what they asked without the complete transformation brought about by the Atonement and without the aid of grace, the very real and enabling power of Christ that comes to those who receive him.  What I learned was that the source of power to do his will was missing, because I was trying to create it on my own instead of turning fully to Him. 

To use an analogy, I realized that the way I had long managed my spiritual life was essentially the equivalent to pushing a car through the desert, hoping to make it to my destination through sheer determination and muscle.  This kind of work is slow and discouraging.  With this approach, you notice the heat, the thirst, the dust, the scorpions, and the pebbles in your shoes, as well as the long-term futility of your efforts.  You keep slogging along while thinking, “I’ll never get there!” 

On the other hand, receiving the Savior completely into our hearts and understanding through the Spirit his role in our salvation is like putting gas in the engine of our spiritual car…suddenly the car seems to go on its own, and our position changes from the one pushing to the one steering.  Our effort is transformed into making choices at the wheel to stay on the right road, which means listening to him and his servants.  But the car flies along compared to our first approach and we start suddenly to see that the scenery in our journey is beautiful and we feel closer and closer to our ultimate destination. 

Still, even once I understood what was missing, I found that I didn’t know how, in practical terms, to let the Savior into my heart and to access His grace.  I was so used to feeling responsible and burdened, I didn’t know how to let go and let Him change me.  I didn’t trust that if I stopped pushing, and got in the car, He could and would make it go.  While the process for me has been long and gradual and has taken a number of challenging turns, I realized that he meant what he said when he said in 3 Ne. 9:19-20:  “And ye shall offer up unto me no more the shedding of blood; yea, your sacrifices and your burnt offerings shall be done away, for I will accept none of your sacrifices and your burnt offerings.  And ye shall offer for a sacrifice unto me a broken heart and a contrite spirit.  And whoso cometh unto me with a broken heart and a contrite spirit, him will I baptize with fire and with the Holy Ghost…” 

My self-sustained efforts to comply outwardly (and at times with a doubtful heart) with what I imagined the church to require were like those burnt offerings.  They were unworthy of what the Lord has said he requires, which is the inward sacrifice of a broken heart and contrite spirit.  Only when we give him that can he give us what we need to come to Him:  the baptism of fire and the Holy Ghost which truly converts us.  To do this, I have found that sincere prayer and long, frequent contemplation of gospel principles as given in the scriptures helps me to develop a true, inward humility, and allows my heart to become broken and my spirit contrite.  As I have done so, I have felt the remarkable power of the Spirit burning within me, cleansing, and changing me and, most importantly, changing my desires, which in turn change my actions.  The Spirit helps me move forward toward the final step of completely turning my will over to Him and letting him direct all my actions. 

This transformation—which I would call true conversion—can happen to each of us as we seek to have the Spirit become fully present to guide and comfort us.  I believe that the remarkable, transforming presence of the Holy Ghost is one of the most powerful ways in which God shows us his love, as it is in fact His actual presence in our physical and spiritual being.  What better love can he show than by being with each of us at our very center?  Once we feel and understand what it is telling us, it becomes a homing device, directing us in the path that leads to him.  It is no accident that being fully present to one another is likewise how we best show love to our fellow beings.  Our Heavenly Father does the same for us through sending us the Holy Ghost so we know He is there.  And the Holy Ghost can only be with us as we let the Atonement clear the channels through which we feel it.  As we feel its presence more fully, our hearts change, which leads our desires and actions to change and our lives naturally come into alignment with our Father’s will.

When we are converted in this way, or are in the process of understanding what true conversion means, we are prepared to hear the messages of conference in the spirit with which they are intended:  We will understand the messages as evidence of our Father’s love for us as he desires above all for our success as the object of his work and glory in returning to Him.  We will receive the messages not as bricks of burden put in the payload of our out-of-gas spiritual vehicles, but as spiritual fuel to speed us in our journey safely and joyously home to Him.  

The post General Conference and Grace appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.