My name is Margot. I was raised in rural southeastern Washington state, the oldest of nine children. I’m a lifelong member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but my husband is a convert. In truth, even as a lifelong member, my own conversion is tied up with his. Of course I thought I believed, but my feelings had never been tested until he (my boyfriend at the time) started meeting with Mormon missionaries at age 18. His questions became my questions, and I finally examined my testimony. I’ve discovered that a testimony is a lifelong process, needing continual renewal and ongoing conversation with God.

I married Art shortly after he came home from his mission. We are the parents of seven children. I’ve got married kids, college kids…down through elementary school; in fact, right now I have a child in every level of schooling, from elementary school on up to college and graduate school! One of the best parts of my life is my two grandsons.

I’m interested in everything. I feel I was blessed with a bright, curious mind. For example, I love music. I have a degree in piano from Brigham Young University, and have taught piano lessons for many years. I currently serve as the organist in my ward [local congregation]. (I also am in charge of ward activities.)

I’ve always enjoyed writing, and although I’ve done some technical and commercial writing, my favorite is storytelling. I adore old stuff, whether it’s antique furniture or little old ladies. I love the idea of preserving the old skills our grandparents used to have that are falling into disuse. This love has translated into a blog created to capture some of these skills I learned from my mother and grandmother. I suspect that there may come a time when we’ll be glad we hung onto some of these old ways of doing things. [Editor’s note: We featured her blog on a recent Links We Like post.]

My grandmother had a huge influence on my life. She was a beautiful spirit, chock full of compassion and faith, and the fact she knew how to do all these cool old things was sort of just rolled into the package. I would count myself blessed if I could grow to be even a little bit like her.

Perhaps something that has burned this love for Old School ways comes in part from an experience I once had; it’s very hard to explain but has never left me. I was visiting the Brigham Young house at This is the Place monument in Salt Lake City, UT (USA), when I was in the thickest of the thick with my seven kids. I was probably pregnant (because I was pregnant a lot!). I was with a big group of people but it was like I was all alone for one moment. I stood looking into something they called the “work room.” The sun came through the curtains so the room was filled with this gorgeous natural light. The room was almost bare. There was a rocking chair, with a bag of knitting beside it, and a cradle nearby. To the side was a counter/shelf unit that had plain pottery bowls for making bread, and baskets holding yarn up on the very top. I instantly fell in love with the serene feeling of this place. There was no clutter — no cords, no papers, no remotes, etc. etc. etc. I could picture myself sitting in that chair, knitting, rocking the cradle with my foot, and I had an overwhelming sense of peace.

I know it’s a skewed view of what a woman’s life was like back then (I know they survived through hard, HARD work, all the time) but that feeling, that image just BURNED into my mind and I’ve never stopped craving it.

I am grateful in the craziness and complexity of life to know that God is a responsive, loving being. Nothing in my life taught me this as much as having cancer four –almost five years–ago. I’m thinking a lot about this right now because I had my regular six-month checkup recently and it brings back a lot of thoughts. Through that experience I learned that God is aware of me personally; I’m not just a member of a vast family. I learned that the Atonement is not just about the fact that Christ paid for my sins, but that he suffered to be able to understand all my pains, even physical ones that don’t relate to sin.

I had several priesthood blessings during that time, and I always sort of wished I’d hear the words telling me it was all going to go instantly away, and I wouldn’t have to have any more painful, scary treatments. But instead I received feelings from God telling me that He’d give me the strength to get through it, that He knew how hard it was for me, and that He loved me. Thinking of it all brings tears to my eyes.

There was plenty to hate about having cancer, but like many cancer survivors, now I say I’d never want to give up the experience, because the lessons learned mean too much to me. It drives me now to be better, so that the experience will not be in vain and the lessons forgotten. That thought makes me shiver.

I love being a Mormon woman. I am grateful for the fact that God has given us revelation for now, to go along with what He gave long ago. I love that my religion makes sense to my mind as well as my heart. I love that our heritage is full of heroic, brave souls–they make me proud, they inspire me. I love that there is a community of women I can turn to for ANYTHING I need, and that I can feel an instant bond with no matter where they live. I love that there is diversity there as well–that Mormon women can be believers and still have a variety of opinions and backgrounds.

Margot just completed a young adult novel, entitled Real, currently under consideration for publication.

——-

For more Portraits of Mormon Women, see here.

The post Portraits of Mormon Women: Margot appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

As we reflect on the events of 9-11, and consider all the current difficulties facing people the world over, we wanted to address this question today — one we have heard often.

This question (or a variation of it, such as “If there is a God, why does He let bad things happen?”) is one that I think most of us struggle with at some level, at some point in our lives. It’s normal to want to have a life relatively free of pain; we are actually wired to want to avoid pain (think “fight-or-flight”). Much in our world (sometimes for good and sometimes for ill) is designed to help alleviate pain, or to at least distract us from it.

It’s hard sometimes not to envy others’ lives that seem to be easier, more “blessed.” Or on the flip side, to be so consumed by the inequalities of life so as to lose hope and feel buried in despair. Or to feel so helpless because we can only do so much to help alleviate the suffering in the world.

Sometimes, to those who believe (or who want to believe) in God, the struggle with pain and the desire for relief from suffering can equate to a trial of faith.

“If God is really there, why doesn’t He intervene?”

“Why haven’t my (their) prayers been answered?”

“How long do I (they) have to wait on the Lord?”

“Does God really care about me (them)?”

“Why does God let innocent people suffer and die?”

The list of questions that sometimes come could go on and on.

There has been much written on this subject, by people of many faiths and persuasions. For each person, finding peace in the midst of trial will probably be a little different.

Following are two clusters of truth that help me not only accept my own challenges, but also process the broader questions about the issue of human suffering. This is not meant to be an exhaustive summary of Mormon doctrine or of my personal perspective. I share only a few things that help me address this question. I welcome your thoughts as well (comments are moderated, so don’t worry if they don’t show up immediately).

1. Mortality was not meant to be easy. The opposition and pain is part of a loving plan — a plan designed to allow us to learn by experience now and to eventually enjoy great eternal blessings.

I recall a time when my oldest was quite young, maybe about four or five. He had watched me, his mother, struggle with chronic health issues (which I have had for several years). He asked a pointed and poignant question: “Mom, why do people sometimes get sick?”

Obviously, it was a loaded question. And obviously, I felt an urgent desire to give him a clear answer that might help his young mind to understand truth.

God did not fail me in that moment. I had a very distinct idea come to mind.

I grabbed a couple of hand weights, and started pumping them. I may have even had him try.

You know where I went with that, of course.

We still will often talk in our family about how we can look at our trials as spiritual weights. Think about the metaphor; we have to literally break down muscle tissue in order to have our muscles strengthened. Our spirits will be tested in similar ways through the pain and struggles of mortality. But like a caring, wise trainer, God will often give us opportunities to stretch, to push through pain, to keep going —  beyond where we think our limits might be sometimes — because He knows what benefits lie in spiritual resistance.

There are many scriptures that capture my thoughts on this. One is Romans 8:18: “For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.”

Faith to me includes holding onto the fact that even though the pain is real — and I believe God knows and empathizes with that — God knows and understands so much more than we do about the purpose of opposition now, and what awaits us after this life. Because of the atonement of Jesus Christ, there is redemption from death through the resurrection (which will come to us all), and the possibility for glory beyond our comprehension.

Another critical part of this plan of mortality includes what we call agency in Mormon doctrine — the opportunity God gives us to make choices based on knowledge that we have, to learn by experience, to have the opportunity to grow and gain wisdom through trial and error. That fact alone makes mortality very, very messy. We are all imperfect beings. We all make mistakes, and we make them often. Sometimes mistakes are serious, even sinful, and can cause great disruption, pain, and suffering for others — even for those who are innocent. As hard as it is to comprehend, even all this messiness has a place in God’s plan.

Here is my second cluster of thoughts, which build on what I have discussed above.

2. Pain can help us find out more about ourselves, gain compassion for others, and discover more about God and His plan — and about the atonement of Jesus Christ.

Regardless of whether one believes in God, adversity does give one an opportunity to dig deep for the wherewithal to rise to the challenge. Again, books have been written about the triumph of the human soul in the face of severe trial. We can discover that we are stronger than we think we are when we are put to tests of character, patience, endurance, forgiveness, courage and many other virtues. We can learn things that perhaps may not be easily learned any other way but through the “school of hard knocks.”

I discussed this question with a friend of mine today. Jenny shared this thought:

I think God already has a pretty good idea of who we are. But we don’t. Through our experiences in life we come to know ourselves better. When you read an incredible story about someone helping Jews during WWII or running into the World Trade Center to save someone on 9-11 do you ever wonder ‘Would I do that if I were there?’ Well, to me that is some of what life is about. To see what we will do when faced with hard situations.

One of our prophets, Spencer W. Kimball said something that I have leaned on more than once when considering this question:

If all the sick for whom we pray were healed, if all the righteous were protected and the wicked destroyed, the whole program of the Father would be annulled and the basic principle of the gospel, … agency, would be ended. No man would have to live by faith.

If pain and sorrow and total punishment immediately followed the doing of evil, no soul would repeat a misdeed. If joy and peace and rewards were instantaneously given the doer of good, there could be no evil—all would do good and not because of the rightness of doing good. There would be no test of strength, no development of character, no growth of powers, no…agency. … There would also be an absence of joy, success, resurrection, eternal life….

The opposition and unpredictable (messy!) nature of how life unfolds is an essential part of God’s plan for us, for our eternal growth. It’s resistance training at its finest!

Adversity also can help us have compassion for others, and can enable us to serve and help and lift another. Empathy is a powerful tool in healing hearts and lives and relationships. Love can do much to alleviate the suffering of others, and can motivate us to want to help others in need. (Sometimes God won’t intervene because He gives us the chance to step in and serve!) Forgiveness in the face of suffering inflicted by another’s poor choices also expand our capacity for love and compassion.

I am especially compelled by the notion that, if we will let them, our trials can help us find God and His strength and grace, which surpasses anything that we can find or do on our own. A scripture comes to mind from 2 Corinthians. Interestingly, Paul had prayed to have a “thorn” removed from his life. Rather than having it removed, he got this answer from the Lord:

And he said unto me, My ^agrace is sufficient for thee…

And then Paul shares the insight that changed how he sees his affliction:

…for my ^bstrength is made perfect in ^cweakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may ^drest upon me.
Therefore I take pleasure in ^ainfirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in ^bpersecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am ^cweak, then am I ^dstrong.

While it’s definitely not easy to find pleasure in pain (and I think it takes experience to let that gift of perspective distill), I have  caught glimpses of that power of Christ, brought into my life through the influence of the Holy Ghost. I have seen and felt that power in the lives of others as well. Even when people don’t realize it, I believe their ability to find light in the darkness comes through Jesus Christ as a blessing from God.

That power in my life can bridge the gap between me and heaven. It helps me understand more about the Savior’s Atonement, and about the deep and abiding love of my Heavenly Father and His Son. As I trust in that power, my faith is enhanced.  Hope increases. I feel strength beyond my own. I am able to see trials more as stepping stones, not stumbling blocks.

When Jenny and I first started talking, she summed up her thoughts simply. She essentially said, “‘Bad’ is relative; it’s in the eye of the beholder.” She talked about recently hearing stories about those who suffered severe trials — life-threatening cancer, being involved on the front lines in World War II. There was a theme in these stories, which was, “I’m a better person because of what I suffered.”

I will say again that I don’t think that God is unaware of how hard “bad” things can be. And I believe He doesn’t fault us when we honestly struggle. I think honesty about our struggles can help us face them, find the good, and find God. Too much focus on the pain, however, can bring despair and hopelessness, which at their core are not of God. We don’t have to punish ourselves when we may feel those emotions, but I believe it helps to recognize that fundamentally, God is a God of hope. The message of the Atonement of the Savior, Jesus Christ, is a message of hope. The plan that includes the pain of mortality is a plan of hope. Because we are His children, God can help us find hope in the midst of suffering, and perspective in the midst of trial.

When we try to see some good in our bad times, or at least trust good is there somewhere (or will unfold sometime — now or eternally), glimmers of light can shine through even the darkest times. Any effort to try to choose that kind of light is a step forward. Sometimes that progress comes a little at a time, and sometimes in the moment, it can feel like one step forward and two steps back. But I can’t imagine that any effort at choosing to “find the silver lining” is wasted. The more we choose hope, the more I think we are empowered to choose it again, and the more we recognize and enjoy the perspective and peace amid trial that can come into our lives as we do.

Truly, as Jenny noted, anytime I read or watch a story about someone who has overcome great adversity, that theme of finding some good in the bad is always, always there. This isn’t just about a superficial optimism in my mind, but in digging deep to choose a measure of hope even when it seems nearly impossible to do, and even when things don’t work out as we want.

So, why do good things happen to bad people? I know I don’t come close to understanding it all, but I do know there is a God. He is real. He loves us. Pain is not evidence that He doesn’t care, but is part of an eternal plan for our growth, progress, learning, and development. I hold onto those realities as I face daily pain of chronic illness and other trials, and as I sometimes am weighed down by the pain others experience. In the end, I trust in the truth that Jesus Christ is our “high priest of good things to come” (Heb. 8:6; Heb. 9:11). Because of Him, I — you, we — can have hope.

For more perspective on this topic, see the video below (in English and in Spanish). This video, entitled “Finding Hope,” shares the story of a survivor of 9-11 and how, through his faith in Jesus Christ, he has found blessings in his life in spite of — and even because of — his involvement in that tragedy. (“Una Nueva Esperanza” — Un hombre describe el trayecto recorrido desde la tragedia del 11 de septiembre de 2001 hasta una nueva esperanza por medio de la fe en Jesucristo.)

——–

**Please note: The answers in “Ask a Mormon Woman” and (other content on this site) reflect the thoughts and perspectives of the administrators at Mormon Women. Although we strive to have our content consistent with the Church’s doctrine and teachings, we do not speak officially for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. For official information about or from the Church, please visit mormon.org or www.lds.org.

For more Ask a Mormon Woman questions/answers, please click here.

Do you have a question you would like to submit? Simply include a comment below, or send an email at gmail with the username ‘mormonwoman’

The post Ask a Mormon Woman: Why do bad things happen to good people? appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

In August of 2004 I first became acquainted with food storage. I had heard much about food storage in my life, but really had no idea what it was really about. To be honest, I still am a little vague on some of the details. However, a year in the city where I lived can really teach a person a lot. The town is right smack in the middle of good farmland. As a result, produce is cheap and plentiful, so people find ways to store it.

My parent’s must have canned when I was growing up because I have many memories of eating home-canned goods, but surprisingly ZERO memories of the canning process. I must have been very good at making myself scarce when work was threatened. In my new ward everyone was talking about getting ready to can. The peach and tomato crops were upon us and we had access to free fruit. So I had some figuring out to do.

At the time I was serving in the Relief Society Presidency (an organization for women in our church) I was also 7 months pregnant with my second son, which is a fairly irrelevant detail. The president at the time was Janell. Janell was the second of three Presidents that I was to work with in three short years. She had also recently moved to our city and was like a breath of fresh air. Janell was a mother of 7 grown children, made her own bread, had a testimony of wheat, and –most importantly–she was a Master Canner. I didn’t even know that there was such a thing as a Master Canner, but apparently through the local university system, you could take classes and become a Master at many things-gardening, canning, etc.

So we enlisted Janell to come over and teach a few of us rookies a thing or two. Many, many hours later she had imparted enough wisdom that we were all able to go home and finish canning our fruits and vegetables. I will never forget at the end of that late night, standing in my dining room, Janell telling us that she had a doctor’s appointment the following day since she was having trouble with her vision and remembering things. Two days later we found out that Janell had a brain tumor.

Of course this experience taught me many things. One of them was that I truly was not cut out to be a RS president in my age and pregnant state of mind. I learned that I was blessed to be surrounded by amazing women. The other members of our Presidency and I worked as a team as Janell continued to serve as President while ill. Janell was a source of inspiration and peace during this time. We visited and loved each other. We laughed and cried and got some work done. Janell eventually went into remission, a miracle to be sure. She enjoyed her family, friends and life in general until the cancer resurfaced last year. During the whole experience, Janell was a testifier. She testified of Christ, of the love of our heavenly father, of tender mercies, of miracles, of eternal families and of Wheat!

Janell passed away yesterday, confident in her knowledge of the plan of salvation, ready to be reunited with her family.

I am grateful for Janell. I often think of her and all that she taught me. Especially every summer when I pull out my mason jars and look over the canning notes about tomatoes from Janell, Master Teacher.

*Phoebe wrote this beautiful tribute on January 10th, 2009 after learning of her friend’s passing.

For more First Person essays, please click here.

The post First Person: Lessons from Janell appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.