Agency in Opinions

To preface this post, I would like to say that I am fully aware that we all have our own opinions. 

How blessed are we with agency to have our own opinions?!
And to live in a place where this is acceptable...

I understand that many people may not agree with my opinions.

I respect that, and I respect the opinions of others.

Even if I don't agree with them.

I also want to say that many of our opinions and feelings and thoughts come from the stories that we have lived in our own lives. 

In no way, whatsoever, am I trying to take away from experiences that others have had. 

I cannot begin to understand what people have been through, what that has meant to them and I am in no way able to tell them how they should feel or what they should think.

I only know of my own experiences and how those have shaped me in my own life.

Please remember that this is my journal. Therefore, my story.

I read a blog post yesterday, written by someone who I love to follow.

I love the way she writes. I love the stories she tells. I love to see life through her eyes and in her perspective.

Randy taught me many, many things. One of the greatest lessons he taught me, by his own example, was the importance of hearing people. And, not just hearing them but really learning their perspective. There is great worth in knowledge.

Just because we may not agree with someone, we can listen to them and hear them and gain from their perspective and views.

I love learning this woman's perspective from her own experiences. 

I have learned over the past several months that she has chosen to take a step back from the Church. 

Obviously, she is not the only person to have done this.

As I read her post yesterday, I felt that perhaps she was giving insight into why she made that choice.

We live in a day when news is spread so quickly.

News is spread so differently.

One story can become 10 different stories, told differently by 10 different people.

The same story, told 10 different ways, can be shared in 10 different mediums.

It is not difficult to find a story if we are looking for it; and it is not difficult to find a story told the way we want it to be told if we look hard enough.

She chose to stop her story from being told by anyone else by telling it herself.

In it, she describes being a survivor of sexual assault.

She describes talking to her LDS Priesthood leaders about it.

She describes how that made her feel on that day, and in the years to come.

She describes being in a horrible marriage.

She describes how certain words, certain phrases told in scriptures and in temple ceremonies make her feel.

She talks about her ancestory and stories of abuse, control and neglect.

She speaks of the "Mormon Moms."

This was the first time I had heard that term. 

She speaks of how Mormon Moms act and react to truths being told, to men being called out for abuse and neglect and control, to feeling as though women who tell their stories should be kept quiet.

She speaks about how her ancestors (women) were very much like this.

This is my opinion:

I have been very fortunate in that I have never felt belittled, abused, neglected or controlled by Priesthood leaders in my wards, stakes, or by general authorities.

I have never felt that I have had a conversation or an interview with a bishop, counselor, member of the stake presidency that was awkward, inappropriate or uncomfortable.

Thankfully.

Nor have my children (all boys).

I have never felt that I have been asked questions that were in any way shameful, too detailed, or inappropriate.

I have no doubt that many people feel they have been subjected to conversations or interviews that were not acceptable. For them, my heart breaks.

I have been in marriages to men who are/were at the time LDS.

Return missionaries.

"Worthy" of a temple recommend.

They were abusive.

Severely abusive.

To me and to my children.

Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Verbally.

Abusive, neglectful and controlling.

It damaged my children and I beyond repair. 

I have been vocal about making sure that in the Young Women's Program (for girls 12-18), we are much more adament about these young women being taught their worth simply based on who they are, not on who they are with, what age they get married at, how many children they have, if they are a stay-at-home mother, etc.

I believe strongly that our worth is set in stone the moment we are born.

I was taught in the YW program that our worth is based on being married to a worthy Priesthood holder, having children, staying home with the children, being a homemaker, honoring our husbands, and supporting them.

This was clearly not my journey. Therefore, for a LOT of years, I felt less than. I felt that my worth was zero because I did not have those things in my life.

I am a single mom. 

I work three jobs.

I am not married, and frankly was never married to a "worthy" Priesthood holder.

It took me having a stroke to realize that my worth is no less than President Nelson's wife.

There are lessons every week taught in Relief Society about home and family.

Just this past week in Sacrament Meeting, the talk was on family and being a good parent.

The Proclamation of the Family was quoted.

I believe that document came from a Prophet.

It talks about how the family should be made up of a mother AND a father, who raise their children with the values of the Gospel. The mother stays home and raises children. The father financially supports the family.

That is not what my family looks like.

Is it hard to sit through talks like that?

Yes.

Do I feel that those talks are aimed at me? That they are trying to teach ME a lesson? That they are trying to make me feel bad?
No.

Are things said in our temples about honoring our husbands and our God?

Yes.

Are those things hard for me to hear?
Every single time.

Do I stop believing in the Gospel because of that wording?
No.

Have I met, and had association with women such as what this lady calls "Mormon Moms?"

Absolutely.

I had a dear friend (20 years ago) tell me that she could no longer be my friend because I was no longer in her status. (I was divorced and a single mom)

Was I broken by that?
Yes.

Have I talked to her since?

No.

Do I believe that she was taught in a lesson somewhere that this is the right course of action?
No.

Do I believe that there are Church leaders who do bad things?
I know there are.

Do I believe that these things get swept under rugs?

Absolutely.

Do I believe that the LDS Church is the only church where this occurs?
I know it's not.

I don't believe that there is a single religion on this Earth that does not have members who do evil, despicable things. 

Humans have agency.

No matter their religion.

The LDS Church is full of humans.

That doesn't make the GOSPEL untrue for me.

Am I the perfect LDS member?
Hell no!

Have I drank alcohol?
Yup.

Did it end well?
Nope.

Have I followed the Law of Chastity my entire life?
Nope.

Were those smart decisions?
They were decisions. 

Do I swear?
Almost every day.

Did I serve a mission?
No.

Do I do family history?
Never have.

Do I have a testimony?
A deep, personal, very simple testimony.

Am I a good mom?
I am the best mom I know how to be in my circumstances.

Do I pray to a God that I believe in?
About 265 times a day.

Do I go to church to be seen and to socialize?
No. In fact, since the stroke, church is still the hardest thing for me to endure.

There is a lot going on at church - and it is very overwhelming to my brain.

Do I go to church to feel something?
Yes. And I never leave disappointed.

Do I have a testimony of the Priesthood?
Yes. 

Do I believe that every person at church who practices their Priesthood is worthy to hold it?
I know they're not.

But, I also know that it is not my problem. That's between them and God.

I don't have to worry about their issues.
I have enough of my own.

If I was a member of this Gospel because of the other members of this Church, I wouldn't be a member of this Gospel.

I don't believe in the Gospel because of the people at Church.

Are there lessons and thoughts that I do not agree with?
Yes.

Do I stop going because I think a lesson was completely out in left field?
No. Because I recognize that the human teaching it capable of having their own perspective.

Do I raise my hand ever and say, "Uhhhh... you should probably check yourself before you wreck yourself?"

No, but I probably should!

Because I'm sassy.

And imperfectly perfect.

Broken Patience

We had a huge rainstorm yesterday. Apparently, the roof in my office didn't like it so well. I had a huge leak in my office. The nice guy came and fixed it. Thanks, Nice Guy.

These pictures remind me of a nice little "family chat" Josh and I had with Kaydon and Colton on Tuesday night. Josh went downstairs after everyone was in bed to talk to Colton about things Colton had stolen from a drawer in our room. (we have had repeated problems with Colton stealing) Suddenly, I hear full-on yelling. It was Kaydon and Josh. I went downstairs - half asleep - to see what was happening. Kaydon was fired up. He was scowling, laying in bed - folding his arms tightly, and mad as heck. Josh was now talking to Colton about stealing, having wrappers all over their room, and having his dirty clothes covering the floor. First, I asked Kaydon what the problem was. He said, "I hate Dad." I said, "awesome!" Josh looked at him with the most heart-broken look I've ever seen on his face. "Why do you hate me, Kaydon?" "Because you yell all the time!!!" Josh: "Why do I yell, Kaydon?" "Because you like to!" I interjected. I don't remember everything that I said in that room on that night, but I felt strongly that I was being guided. The four of us were in that bedroom for quite some time, and Jackson had come out of his room and was standing out in the hallway. Josh stood against the dresser, speaking now and then. Colton and Kaydon were on their beds. There were tears. What I do remember saying was this: "We are a family. It's perfectly fine for us to day, 'I hate when Dad yells,' or 'I hate when Mom isn't patient,' or 'I hate that I don't get enough time with you guys,' but it is NEVER okay to say, "I hate dad," or "I hate Mom." I asked Kaydon how he would have felt if Josh would have said, "I hate you Kaydon." Kaydon cried more and said that that would have been the worst feeling.

Satan is working on families in every single way possible. Our "blended" family is especially fun for him. We don't use the word blended, or combined, or step. We are a family of seven. Period. Sometimes we use words we shouldn't like, "shut up," "stupid," and "hate." Those words are small, little ways that Satan pokes holes in our family. Every Monday, we have Family Home Evening. They last no more than 30 minutes. That is a way that we try to fortify our family unit so that holes are tougher to make. Sometimes, there is name calling in our home, or fighting over games, or fighting over food, or fighting over toys. Those fights poke holes in our family. Every night at dinner, we pray as a family. Those prayers, no matter how long or short, help to protect our family from holes. Sometimes, our family doesn't communicate as well as we should. Sometimes, we raise our voices. Sometimes, we forget to tell each other important details. Sometimes, we give each other the silent treatment. Sometimes, we take our frustrations, fears, anxieties, and anger out on each other because that seems to be the best place to do it. But, there are also times when our kids come in and ask us to pray with them, they ask for a blessing, they ask for one-on-one time with Dad, they pour their hearts out to us, they want to watch a silly show on TV with us in our room, they want to go to the gas station with Dad to get a soda...

We have leaks in our family all the time. They can turn into huge floods if we don't take care of them right away. We are doing our best every day. Some days are a whole lot better than others. Some days we have to say, "Tomorrow is a new day. We'll try again." Some days are great. Regardless, we all have leaks in our families. I am so grateful for the Gospel, which teaches us to patch them, teaches us to fortify so that we can prevent leaks, and teaches us of the Atonement so that we can try again. I love my family!

My Gay Brothers

How is that for a title?! My dear friend, Miss Birdie, posted something on Facebook yesterday that caught my eye. She explained her belief in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and her religious affiliation - that of Mormonism. Then, she explained that she has many, many friends who are gay, lesbian, bi-sexual or transgender and expressed her love for them in an unwaivering fashion. I thought how silly is what that she felt that she needed to do that. Let me explain further. I didn't think it was silly that she did it, I thought it was silly that she felt that she needed to defend both. Many people have said, read, and published words that pin the LDS Church against those people who have different sexual orientations. This is unfortunate, as the true Gospel of Jesus Christ teaches that we shall love one another. (If you didn't notice, I put a period at the end of that sentence). Meet Logan and Skip (Skipper). They are my brothers. Well, Logan is my biological brother and Skipper is my brother-in-law, but we drop the in-law in our family.

Logan is 4 1/2 years younger than me. I was protective of him from infancy. He was THE cutest baby. He smiled all of the time. His blonde hair and blue eyes were irresistable. They still are. He was a chick-magnet. He went on dates constantly. He was in choir and had good friends. When he was around 18, if I remember correctly, he came "out" as being gay. (If you didn't notice, I put a period at the end of that sentence).

Skip is older than I am. He he. Skip is tall and handsome. His smile is unbelievably beautiful. His hugs are warm and safe. His eyes sparkle. His laugh is contagious. He and Logan have been together for eight very happy years. They are good, good men. Oh, do they have hearts of gold. They have helped to financially support the boys and I on several occasions. They volunteer. They welcome people into their circle and nurture them and strengthen them and comfort them. They work hard. They play hard. They love one another in a way that you rarely witness. They are happy, happy people who generate an energy that is so powerful to be around.

My Grandpa Nef told me of a time that was difficult for him. My grandpa works in the Fresno LDS Temple. He was a bit perplexed about the relationship between Logan and Skip. He fell in love with Skip immediately. It's impossible not to! He loves Logan with a love that is unconditional. But, he felt that his religious beliefs must be contrary to the love that his grandson and partner had. He went to the temple president one day and told him of his confusion/dilemna. The temple president said to him that he should continue to love Logan and Skip with his whole heart and that we are very blessed because God knows all. He knows FAR more than we know. He is a just God and He is the one who will make judgements. We need not do that. Ever. Grandpa was so relieved! And, to watch Grandpa with my brothers is to watch true love in action. The moment Logan and Skip walk into a room, it literally lights up and Grandpa is always the first to hug and kiss them. Oh, how he loves them.

A couple of years ago, I explained to my boys that their Uncle Logan was gay and that Skipper was their uncle too. Colton, in his delicious autistic world, went to Skipper one day and said, "My mom said you are gay." Skipper said that his mama was correct. Colton said, "I love you anyways." Skipper smiled and hugged him.

Logan and Skipper, your big sister loves you with an eternal, unconditional love. I love you to the moon and back. I am HONORED to be your sister. I am HONORED that you are the uncles of my five children. My husband loves you. He would drop kick anyone who did anything that might even appear to be hurtful or disrespectful to you. Our children adore you. They learn from you, and I can't think of two better examples of empathy, strength, courage, service, and integrity than the two of you to learn from! I have a testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that we are ALL children of our Heavenly Father. He knows us. He loves us. I know, without a shadow of doubt, that we have an elder brother, Jesus Christ, who loves us - enough to die for us. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that families are forever. My love for you and my testimony of the Gospel are not separate. They are not perpendicular. They are not in competition with one another. They go hand-in-hand. How grateful I am to be your sister and to have the privilege to love you everyday.

Tender Moments

Last Thursday, Josh received a call from his aunt. Josh's grandma was not well. He called me to relay the message and I got in the car and drove right over. Little Gram has a special place in my heart. She is feisty and sassy and funny. And, she loves me. :) I walked into her room. She was completely incoherent 98% of the time. She looks nothing like Gram any longer. Her spirit is in and out of her old and tattered body. It's mostly a shell at this point. I held her hand, laid by her, stroked her forehead and ran my fingers through her hair. I cried a little, too. I remember taking care of my Grandma Robb and my Grandpa Robb. I did much the same with them. They are so close to me every single day. I miss them terribly, but the closeness that I feel to them everyday reminds me that this earth life isn't the end at all. Gram Thomson is not a member of the church, nor is that entire side of the family. I talked to her a little bit about that as I sat with her. At one point, I told her I loved her. She opened her eyes slightly and mouthed that she loved me too. I cried a little more. When Josh showed up, she woke just a little bit, smiled, and mouthed that she loved him. I was so thankful for that. I hope that Gram goes quickly, and smoothly with no pain or anxiety. I also hope that she knows how loved she is.

Chicken Noodle Soup

Several years ago, when we were in our ward in West Jordan, a sweet, sweet lady brought us dinner every single Monday night... because she wanted to. My kids loved her. I loved her more. She was my solace, my safety, my calm in the storm. Every time I had surgery, she brought her homemade chicken noodle soup. It was like nothing I have ever had. It was perfect. It was amazing! I love to make homemade chicken noodle soup. My kids love to eat it. I do too. Last week, I was really sick. I asked my sweet friend, Martha (Heidi W.), to make me some of her homemade chicken noodle soup. She did and I haven't stopped eating it since. It is so yummy! There is something about chicken noodle soup that warms the body and the soul, at least mine. It seriously makes me feel loved. And, I love it right back!

This quote, which happens to be my very favorite, also makes me feel loved. And, I love it right back! I can always hear Elder Holland's voice saying it. It reminds me that this is such a small part of our immortality. We need not give up. We need not quit. We need not stop trying. There is always help and happiness ahead. Always.

Mommy

Last night, my big boy needed his mommy. He didn't say that he needed his mommy. He showed me that he needed his mommy. It was one of the greatest moments in recent memory. Jackson had a rough day/night. I can't be sure if it was just yesterday, or if emotions have been building in his mind and heart. He is a pretty quiet dude. He talks to us, but it's never too detailed. He broke last night when we got home from his orthodontist appointment. He hunched over the kitchen counter and sobbed. I rubbed his back and told him how much I loved him. Josh kept asking him what was wrong. He just cried, unable to speak through the sobs. Finally, he stood up and told us a few things that he is struggling with right now. We told him how proud we are of him and how much we love him. Josh got him a plate of food and I went into the Living Room with the other kiddos. It's so rare for Jackson to show emotions that his younger siblings were swarming him, asking him what was wrong. Colton and Brooklyn did not like seeing him so emotional. When he was done eating, he came in and sat on the couch right next to me and laid his head on my shoulder. His 6'1" frame had to slide way down on the couch so that he could cuddle with his mama. I didn't ever want that moment to end. My big boy needed his mommy and he was letting me be his mommy. He was silent, with muffled sobs now and then. But, he was with his mommy. I just held him for a good hour while the family played and talked all around us. I thanked my Heavenly Father over and over again for this moment. These moments are so very, very rare now. These kids of mine grow more and more independent every single day. But, we all need our mommy. I thought about my Heavenly Father, too. How many times do we just break and want our Father? For me, it's just about daily. And when this happens, He comes and holds us every.single.time. I never want my kids to stop needing me, and I never want to not be there for them when they do. I'll love you forever, I'll love you for always.