Finding Acceptance

It was about 6 years ago and I was struggling with my feelings towards the LDS Church again. At this point I was formally disfellowshipped. My girls were still regularly attending their sunday weekday activities even though I had to work most Sundays and Wednesdays. One night I was called and asked to meet with the bishop. So I agreed and met with him. It seems that some of the "good young men" in our ward and the ward we shared the building with were spreading rumors about one of my daughters. They were saying things like "she's easy" and "she will sleep with anyone". So naturally the bishop felt it important to alert me to this "character flaw" in my daughter that I was unaware of. I was floored. This child of mine was much like me in that she preferred to hang around boys because girls can get petty. She still had plenty of female friends, but enjoyed being "one of the guys" as well. And it seemed this is where the rumors began. I was told to speak with my daughter and meet back with the bishop the next night. Let's just say that the next night was a meeting I'm sure this man has never forgotten.

I walked into his office and asked him exactly who was making these false accusations against my daughter. He refused to give me names, but did state that one young man was standing up for her and he was the one who brought it to the attention of the young men leaders and bishop. I stated that in our country we are allowed to face our accusers and that my child had a right to face hers. He asked if I was certain of her virginity to which I responded that it was absolutely none of his business. And that he was overstepping boundaries at this point. He then proceeded to tell me as the only worthy priesthood leader in my kids lives it was his job to know these things. And this is when I completely lost my temper. I'm certain I dropped the F bomb a few times. I was absolutely enraged. If there was a worthy priesthood holder in my children's lives it was my father and a few of their uncles. But this man had zero interaction in their lives.

I called the mom of the young man who stood up for my daughter and let her know that I appreciated her son speaking up. I spoke with him not long after and he told me it wasn't his intent to get her accused of anything, but to get the boys to quit telling lies about her. He felt really bad about this. It was this event that was the final straw for this daughter of mine. I think this young man realized it as well. To this day he is still a friend to her...well actually to him.

You see, this child is now my transgendered son. He often told me through his childhood that he didn't feel like he fit in...not really. More times than I can count he told me he wished he'd been born a boy. At times it came with the addition of "so dad wouldn't have wanted to divorce you" or "so dad would actually notice me". Regardless of the reason, I tried to help him see his worth as a daughter of God. I wish I understood then what I understand now. He has always had worth...inestimable worth. And my words of encouragement were just the opposite. They hurt him.

At this point our relationship is nonexistent. I am to blame for my actions and wish dearly my son would reach out to me. I don't reach to him because he has made it clear that he does not wish for a relationship with me at this time. So I wait. I hold on to every tidbit of information that friends and family provide me with. Many nights I cry because I just want to put my arms around him and tell him how much I love him and how sorry I am to have failed him. I sit back and support him from the sidelines. I cheer for his triumphs and want to jump into the fray with his battles. Family tells me he is skeptical of my support. I don't blame him. The blame is on me.

I don't say these things to make anyone feel sorry for me. I say them to make a point to those parents out there who are so quick to judge their child's worth by the standards of men rather than the standards of God. God alone determines our worth. The Divine had declared that we all have inestimable worth. We need to see one another this way. Especially our children who the rest of the world marginalizes.

If I could turn back time I would. If I could write a letter to my younger self and explain what this child is going to be facing I would do it. But I can't. I can only face the consequences of my own actions and pray that my child doesn't become a statistic in the transgender community. And as I pray for him I pray for them all. I also pray for the friends I have made in this community. They have done more to teach me love and acceptance than anyone else. For them I am grateful.

As for my son, I hope he reads this. I hope his sisters share this post with him and let him see I do care. I hope that this can be an olive branch of peace. And I hope that every parent with a transgendered child can read this and see the importance of loving your child because of who they are and not in spite of it.

To be Mormon...or Not

Like a great many people, I was surprised by the updated policies of the LDS Church. It has left me saddened in a way I didn't anticipate. Watching social media and seeing friends who I thought were strong in their faith falter because they have someone in their family is homosexual. The question is out there wondering if all members are going to come under intense scrutiny because they support family member who are homosexual. The question is how far is too far.

I don't claim to have the answer for everyone, but I have it for me. My very first blog post tells you why I left the LDS Church. It explains the need to distance myself from a church where the leaders actively marginalized people for who God created them to be. Yet, I have still had hope that things could be turned around. Even when I knew I was not coming back, I had hope. Not for me, but for my friends and loved ones who still believe and uphold the teaching of the LDS Church.

Let me explain a little about me. I have 4 children. My oldest daughter is a practicing Mormon. She is a Relief Society teacher and a very progressive minded person. Plus she lives outside of the state of Utah which has actual helped her relationship with God develop and grow. My second oldest daughter came out as transgender and is in the process of transitioning to male. He is now my only son and he has no affiliation with religion to my knowledge. My third daughter has come out as gay. She's pretty awesome and has questioned the LDS faith for a few years now, especially since coming out. My youngest daughter states she is pansexual (attracted to personalities not genders). She is the only one who was not baptized at 8. She was taught by the missionaries and baptized at 10.  These are my only children. What are the odds that I would end up with 3 out of 4 being part of the LGBTQIA community? Not that high, I can tell you that.

I've had people tell me I must've taught them something wrong or been a bad example for 3 of the 4 to "choose" alternate lifestyles. I can tell you this, from the time they were very young I could see that each of them was not the typical girl. I knew for certain at least one of them would come out at some point. I wondered about my transgendered child for years because he detested anything feminine. The other two I knew would be strong women...not to say they all wouldn't, I raised them each to speak their truths and they do...sometimes to my dismay.

To the recent news...so many scriptures have run through my head. I could spout scripture left and right and it would still be the cherry picking I hated seeing done when I attended the LDS Church. I know that there is much anger and pain with this situation. I have friends in tears because they have younger siblings still at home with their mom yet their dad is in a relationship with another man. So those at home most likely will not be allowed to be baptized or ordained until the age of 18. And then they have to disavow their father's lifestyle. Meanwhile the years in between are met with potential anger towards the father whose lifestyle is preventing them from the goals they've potentially had all because of a new policy. I also heard about a woman whose child was told that the scheduled baptism for this weekend is off because the parents have joint custody and dad is married to a man.

I started thinking about my youngest today and her baptism. At the time of her baptism her father was in prison for possession of child pornography. A horrible crime. He is now (and for life) a registered sex offender. Yet there was no hesitation to her being eligible for baptism There was no judgement against her because of the crimes of her father. Something that may or may not be wired into him genetically, but could also be a condition due to possible sexual abuse to him as a child. This is just speculation on my part. I don't truly know what led him down that path, I just know the pain our children have suffered because of those actions. But something that is not brought on by anything other than genetics is going to stop children from being baptized and/or being ordained. This could potentially prevent them from the temple if they state they support their parent's lifestyle choice because he/she is in a happy and loving relationship.

For me, I am there as a support to all who are hurting. And all who are questioning. I know the struggle of questioning and coming to terms with the answers. Especially when the answers take you in a different direction than you anticipated. I pray for each one of these people that they will be able to gain an open and honest discernment for themselves and not just toe the line because it's what the "brethren" say. If there was ever a time to search your heart for personal revelation, now would be that time.

I've seen the memes that poke fun at this situation, the ones that support this situation, and the ones that are against this situation. I admit to laughing at some, being furious at others, and just plain scrolling past a few. My Facebook feed is full of the news stories and peoples feelings. I've seen postings for suicide hotlines and lists of names of people willing to just be a listening ear. There is a call to action by others and other faiths to draw the circle wide and welcome all who are hurting into their arms. Then I saw a post by one of my friends from back in high school. His words really hit the nail on the head. I'm sharing them with his permission.

• Dear Child, you are divine. You have the spark of divinity in you. It doesn't matter who you are, or where you're from, or to whom you're attracted. That is not for me to care about. I care that you feel loved. I care that you feel celebrated for all of the amazing things about you. I care that you are seen for your unique gifts that are a blessing in this world. I want to help you on your path if I can, but if I can't I don't want to slow you down. You are loved.  ~~Chris F.

My heart is full with these words. I can see a loving Creator saying these words to each person he/she has created. It is how I feel about each of my children. I can also say with certainty that there are plenty of people out there willing to help those who are struggling through this. And for those who still believe in the Restoration I can state that the Community of Christ will welcome you with arms wide open, just as they did me and my family. May you each find the peace and love of Christ. 

My Journey...My Path

I think a great many of us go on some kind of faith journey at some point in our lives. Whether it's as a teenager and you question everything your parents/guardians ever taught you (as teens tend to do), as an adult living away from your parents/guardians for the first time, or at some point in adulthood when you wonder why people believe the way they believe. This is a great introspective look at how you do or don't feel towards any kind of divine being. For some this introspection is fairly painless. For others this is a life altering, pain filled journey. For the rest it lays somewhere in between

When it comes to my faith journey it has run the range of these. As a teen my questioning was fairly painless. I had a desire to know if the divine existed and if Christ was an actual person who cared. This was beautifully confirmed to me as yes...although I know there are others who have never received such confirmation when asking. Moving out of my parents home and embarking on married life led to more ups and downs in my faith journey. I struggled with the idea that my husband was the head of the household and that I was to always defer to him as was being taught by my religion of choice. It was only 2 years into my marriage that this faith came forward and stated in a proclamation that husband and wife are equals. Great in theory, but trying to implement that in my own marriage was less than successful. Being my marriage and my faith became so intertwined, when I divorced my faith faltered drastically.

I had done as so many had encouraged me to do. I had leaned on someone else's testimony until mine became strong enough. At no time was mine all that strong. So to be treated as a pariah in my own ward because I was divorcing hit me even harder and had me questioning more and more why I wanted to be involved in a church that treated it's members this way. I'd even had a bishop tell me that I must have done something wrong if my husband wanted to divorce me...never considering that I was the one who told my husband I wanted a divorce.

Less than a year later I was living with my mom and stepdad. This was not easy. My stepdad and I were prone to butt heads, but I do see now that he was (and is) concerned about me. He and I would talk about the church and I knew his view was fairly negative. But he would also tell me I needed to make up my own mind how I felt about it. Great counsel from an unlikely source. He would even check with me on Sunday mornings to see if I was attending church that day. Something I don't think my mom knows about.

Moving back to Salt Lake I came back to a ward where I had felt most at home during my adult life. It had been about 4 years and a lot of changes had come about. It didn't feel the same although many of the people were still here. It was then that I started to see things differently. I also saw and heard things that bothered me a great deal. My ex-husband was praised by many for all the good he did and how sad they were that he wasn't my husband anymore. It hurt, but I worked to forgive because I was trying to live my life as Christ would as exampled in the New Testament.

Then I met an amazing man. One who was more Christ-like in attitude than anyone I had ever met. Even though he had little he gave it freely to anyone who needed it. He told me he had faith in Jesus, but didn't believe in any specific church. He had studied numerous religions and felt the sting from family when he traveled down different paths. Within a year of meeting him we were married. I'm so grateful to have him as my partner in this life and the next.

He opened my eyes to other ideas in a way I had not looked at them before. Through him, I was able to explore more religions and talk about these religions in a very open and authentic format. We would read excerpts from books and discuss them. It was refreshing to know that he was a seeker of truth as well.

Then we began to attend church together. I learned quickly that I was still "that one person" that would rattle off some comment during a lesson which took it in a completely different direction. And I wasn't alone. So was my husband. It had started to become such an issue that I could, even now, tell you the two teachers who would be willing to call on us in church during a lesson. In the 3 years of varied activity level not once were we asked to speak and only only a couple of times were we asked to teach a lesson. We were the rogue couple. I'd even heard someone say one day to not mind whatever my husband and I said because we just didn't appreciate the gospel the right way. To this day, I don't think the person who spoke those words realized I was within earshot. It stung.

I struggled with so much focus on church leaders yet little focus on Christ. I didn't necessarily have a faith in the leaders but I did have faith in Christ. This fact actually has helped with my journey. I've learned that many who leave the religious institution I have left do so with unbelief in anything. They become atheist. Their faith is so tied to the leadership that when they finally fall away so does their faith. It truly becomes all or nothing.

A big part of my journey has been in looking back, seeing where I was and contrasting that to where I am now. I see growth. However, in doing so, many have taken it as an attack on a specific religious institution. I'll concede that at times it has been. But for the most part it has been a way for me to document the changes I have been going through. In doing this I have lost many people I considered friends. There are neighbors that will no longer acknowledge me when I wave. People in the neighborhood have literally crossed to the other side of the street to avoid all contact. People have told me that they will pray for my eyes to be opened so that I may return to the truth...their truth, not mine.

On the other side of this equation are the people who support me. Who understand that this is my journey and my thoughts. They will ask me questions and be supportive the best that they can. They may even wonder either privately or to me why I've walked away from the religion in which I was raised. I'll talk with them. I'll let them know that I love them and love even those who treat me badly because I understand we all have our own paths. I do realize that not everything I say is going to be positive regarding this prior faith institution. After a 10 year marriage not everything I say about my ex is positive either. But given time and space I can see the redeeming qualities that I once found in him.

The good and redeeming factors are why I left one restoration religion in favor of another. I can see the shared truths and admire those factors. I love that I no longer will sit through a worthiness interview, but am viewed as having inestimable worth by nature of being created in the image of God. I like that when I pay my tithing it isn't a percentage off the top which then requires me to ask for help, but a percentage of what I have left after meeting mine and my families needs. I enjoy the open discourse during Sunday School where differing views are valued. honored, and encouraged instead of being met with "you need to study and pray harder so you can understand what I'm teaching". I love that every week worship service highlights a different place in the world in a prayer for peace and that this place is highlighted and uplifted. I love that there is an ongoing sense of justice and helping to end poverty. Delivering the manna bags to the homeless and speaking with them felt more Christlike than all the time I have spent in the temple. I enjoy reading the Doctrine and Covenants and seeing the differences in the two volumes I own. To see that in one church it is a living document that is still being added to and has great scripture. And I love that it contains the scripture I grew up with as well. I have found new love and appreciation for the sacrament of communion. Rather than being a weekly part of worship it is now monthly and gives more time for personal change. I like that most of the scriptures used are the same, they are just utilized in different ways and researched more thoroughly with sources outside of the faith tradition.

I am grateful and thankful for my life in the church in which I was raised and practiced for so many years. For me it was a stepping stone. It helped to give me a foundation to build upon. While there are many things that I see as hurtful and/or harmful, I am grateful for what I learned prior to this transition of faith. There will still be hurt which translates into anger as I work through the pain. I may not always be the most positive and uplifting in regards to this previous religion. For those who state I'm always being hateful and negative, know that I am not filled with hate towards any church. I just can no longer see it as the One True Church. I see it as One of the Many True Churches. I am working through this in a public way simply because I have learned that I am not alone and others need these words to help them to stand up and not be afraid to travel on the path of their own faith journey.

After all, we all have our own path to travel. At times they will intersect with others. At times it will seem we are on our own. Just remember, my true path may not be your true path. As for me, I am enjoying the trip.

Ordained...Not What You Think It Means

Today the LDS Church released the final essay in a series of 13 essays. It is titled "Joseph Smith's Teachings about Priesthood, Temple, and Women. I was excited to read this essay because I was interested in how the LDS Church was going to respond to the Living Art displays that the Ordain Women movement had outside Temple Square over General Conference weekend. I was expecting full disclosure and an admittance that yes, women once held the priesthood. Instead I read words that were the exact opposite.

The further I read the more I came to realize that once again the Patriarchy had struck. Only this time it was such a direct hit to my spirit that it felt as if my heart would break in two. Not only did they not admit that women had once held the priesthood, but they sought to redefine the term "ordain" as set apart. Evidently the Oxford English dictionary has the definition incorrect. It defines ordain as make someone a priest or minister.

Now some of you may be wondering why, if I've left the LDS Church, does this matter to me. And this is why, I have a daughter who is still active within the LDS Church. She is a feminist (or as she puts it, an equalist). We've spoken a little about women and the priesthood and both feel that it will not happen within the LDS Church. That those who wish to hold the priesthood will need to look elsewhere. And yes, I know this attitude isn't that of a typical feminist. If you noticed, I'm not in the LDS Church anymore either.

After a lifetime of being marginalized and treated as less than, this article confirmed to me that the LDS Church has no desire to make any changes. Even though they are noted as the most frequently changing church in the world. In fact, they are going out of their way to belittle the female membership by treating them as if they are incapable of understanding the meaning of the word ordain.

The other reason this bothers me so much is because it is once again the rewriting of history within the LDS Church. You see, as a child my parents had a series of books about the history of the LDS Church. Now these books are pre-1980's. In fact, I believe they got the books sometime back in the 1960's before as much editing had been done. I figure this because in one volume there is mention of Emma Smith being ordained to the office of High Priest. Yet years later when I came across these volumes in an updated version this was missing. All the ordinations of women to priesthood had been removed. I honestly thought I had imagined it and it weighed heavily on my mind. Neither of my parents recalled such a thing, but they hadn't sat for hours and poured over the books like I had.

What this told me then and tells me now is that the church has a deep rooted desire to prevent women from becoming as equals. You can quote the Proclamation to the Family to me all you want, but it still marginalizes married women as needing to be in the home and not working. If a woman is called to a position her husband must consent first. If a woman goes to a priesthood leader with an issue concerning her husband then his word is taken over hers because she is just a woman.

I have seen this marginalization and poor treatment of women throughout my life. I even went along with it for the sake of not making waves in my home. Being admonished repeatedly by men to not question and to just agree with what they know has always felt belittling. Why should I be less than because I was born a woman? Why am I not worthy of the same love, respect, and trust from God as a man? I'm not. The God I believe in and know to love me unconditionally has found me to have inestimable worth. She sees me as a person of strength because I was made in Her image. To say otherwise is disingenuous. To treat me or any other woman as less than is not following the teachings of Christ. Christ, the one who treated all as equals and placed none lower than himself.

I now stand with my brothers and sisters in Christ and say, "It is enough! It is time to stop the veiled hate-filled words. It is time to see we are all equals in the eyes of God!" As for me, each day I am more and more thankful to have left this institution. It does not mean I will stop fighting for the rights of my sisters in Christ. As a seminary teacher once told me to do, "Fight the good fight!" And so I shall.

Just Call Me Grace

As a child I tended to be rather accident prone. I tripped up stairs, not just down them. Wrecking on my bike was pretty regular. Thankfully I was never seriously injured or broke a bone. My mom commented more than once that it was a good thing my name wasn't Grace. When I was about 9 or 10 I received a necklace for my birthday. The pendant on this necklace had a line of a Mother Goose poem on it. "Tuesday's child is full of grace". My parents gave me this because I had been born on a Tuesday, but first I thought they were teasing me for being so klutzy. Up to that point the name or word grace had a very negative connotation.

Even now when I trip or stumble I joke that it's a good thing my name isn't grace. And as luck would have it, I have a daughter with my knack for tripping over flat surfaces. We joke about how I considered naming her Grace, but didn't want to put that kind of pressure on a child of mine. However there is beauty in this word, Grace.

As a child I also heard frequently on the news about Princess Diana and the grace she exhibited. I took this to mean she moved beautifully. So I would watch how she walked and when no one was around I tried to copy her movements. As I moved into those awkward teen years I gave up on moving gracefully.  Instead I started to learn that someone having grace meant more than just their physical movements. It meant to behave with dignity and to be distinguished in attitude. This is the kind of grace I could relate to. As it turns out, I'm not as graceful as I'd like to be.

Growing up LDS there weren't many women who were held up as examples, but Emma Smith was one with whom I always wanted to know more about. I wanted to understand why she was held in high esteem. As I've read numerous accounts of interactions with her I have learned that she exhibited grace. She faced some of the biggest struggles a person can face, yet she showed grace in her daily interactions with people.

When I realized that she didn't come west with the rest of the saints I wanted to understand why. For such a gracious woman it seemed disingenuous for her to not go with the main body of the church. My heart hurt to know she had turned her back on all her husband had brought forth. When I sought to learn more about the RLDS Church I was told not to bother because "they are just apostates". Yet I was continually drawn to them.

When the temple was built and dedicated I hung on to the newspaper clipping from the Salt Lake Tribune for years. I was enamored with this amazing building and the people who built it. I remember talking with my dad about it and him telling me to steer clear of them because they are apostates. My husband cautioned me to do the same. Eventually the newspaper clipping disappeared. But this fascination did not, it just lay dormant.

When my marriage fell apart I was looking for a way to cope with everything. It took about 9 months into separation and I crumbled emotionally. My ability to cope was gone and my kids went to live with their dad and I moved in with my mom. I had to find my center. I had to gain my strength.

It is this move that truly started me on the trajectory towards taking that step through the door of the local Community of Christ congregation.I found work quickly in the deli at a local supermarket. My manager is an amazing woman raised in the baptist faith. She was unlike any other baptist I had ever met. She has grace, and not just in the sense of dignity. We frequently spoke to about religion and the differences in our religious paths. This was the first time I heard about grace in terms of Christ. I mean, yes he showed grace and dignity, but I didn't get what she was referring to when she said, "by the grace of Christ."

I just didn't get it. At the age of 30 I had no clue what the Grace of Christ even meant, but I felt like it was important to understand. I spoke with my bishop and he told me that all other Christian religions believe you are saved by just believing in Christ but that isn't how it works. You have to have faith, repent of your sins, be baptized and confirmed, and then do good works. He really emphasized the good works.

Now good works are not a bad thing. Doing good to and for others is very important as it exhibits Christ-like attributes. But just having faith in Jesus isn't the same as understanding grace. I slowly came to realize that grace is this huge component to discipleship that I just didn't understand. I went to the local Catholic Church for mass and talked to the priest, but I still didn't understand what grace was. I spoke with the pastor at the local Assembly of God and was invited to attend worship services. But my questions were not answered. Somehow I knew there was more to it than I was finding.

I read books by Christian authors, both non-fiction and fiction. But I just wasn't grasping this concept of grace. 6 years into this quest I attended church with one of my best friends at her church, Granger Christian Church. I had so many questions and suddenly here were people excited to field my questions. And I learned how integral understanding grace is to having a relationship with the divine.

I finally understood grace in a way that is so hard to explain. Grace is the all encompassing love of the Divine. It is what allows us to be welcomed into his/her presence. It is embodied in the flesh by the Son of Man. And is all around us in the whisperings of the Holy Spirit. Grace is bigger than we can imagine yet has the ability to touch the individual soul of a non-believer.

It was this understanding and acceptance of grace that saved me. I stood at the front of the church and stated that I am a sinner and it is only through His grace that I am saved. I accepted him into my life and have only been the richer for it. So with this new found understanding I was able to move forward finally and work towards being more like Christ because I finally understood what His "Saving Grace" meant.

I returned to the LDS Church (a story for another day) and tried to bring that feeling and purpose with me. It was soon obvious to me that I was different than everyone else. I saw things through a different lens and it wasn't always appreciated or liked. When I would bring up this idea of grace it was met with good works. But I knew to be saved was to accept grace.

Then a article by Russell M. Nelson was brought to my attention. The article entitled "Divine Love" was in the February 2003 Ensign. In this talk Elder Nelson stated that God's love is conditional. He even goes further to use scripture to show how this love is conditional. I was so rattled. All I could think is that, as a mother, I do not place conditions on my love for my children. And if we are all children of the Divine then why would our love for our children be different than His/Her love for us? It almost felt like it was giving people an excuse to turn their backs on their children when those children chose a different path. Talk about harmful.

This stuck with me because I was so rattled by the idea that Divine Love was conditional. So I did what any other Mormon does in time of questioning, I prayed. I read the scriptures, I fasted and prayed and read the scriptures. I spoke to my bishop and was told to pray, fast, and read my scriptures. And what did I get for all of this? An answer. And it wasn't the answer I was expecting. Instead of being told that others would come to my understanding I was told to seek out more of these truths. For most, this has been seen as a faith crisis. Now, just to clarify, this wasn't my only question but one of many questions. But this is the only question I'm addressing right now.

I continued to pray and ask questions and search. All of this questioning led me to finding my way to Community of Christ. It led me to my spiritual home. And I am truly blessed. These blessings were never as apparent as in the last week as we, as a family, have had the opportunity to sit and listen to the Prophet-President Steve Veazey. Not just listen to him, but to talk with him and ask him questions. This is something that I still cannot imagine happening within the LDS world. I went into these meetings with a prayer in my heart that I would receive witness to the truthfulness of my faith journey. While I've already felt confirmation that this was where I belonged, I wanted to know for myself that this unassuming man is a prophet Again, in this same church, I heard a voice speak to me that Steve Veazey is chosen as prophet-president. That he was chosen through love and discernment.

I love that in those moments of quietude in a place of openness and welcome the spirit speaks so loudly to me. That I am able to know of Divine Grace. At this point I am taking the challenge to offer everyone that same grace that the Divine has given me. I know I shall falter and make mistakes, but if I can help just one person feel that same love that my old boss helped me to feel the journey will be worth it.

The Worth of a Soul

Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God; for, behold, the Lord your Redeemer suffered death in the flesh; wherefore he suffered the pain of all men (people), that all men (people) might repent and come to him. —Doctrine and Covenants 16:3c

From the earliest days you have been given a sacred principle that declares the inestimable worth of persons. Do not forget. —Doctrine and Covenants 162:6a

As a pre-teen my parents became inactive. My mom had begun to openly smoke again. We no longer went to church. I typically only went if a Primary teacher/leader or friend picked me up. When I did go the lingering smell of cigarette smoke made me the different one. The fact that I didn't regularly attend made me different. Being different in the LDS Church is not a good thing. I had thoughts and ideas that didn't necessarily match up with my leaders. When I hit my teen years I typically attended to spend time outside of school with my friends. However, I was still not treated as one of the group by everyone. I even remember hearing other young women comment on the fact that I didn't belong at church and that I wasn't worthy to attend church because I didn't come every week. That definitely made it harder for me to attend weekly. It also added to my questioning.

I remember saying something to one of my older brothers about being told I wasn't worthy to attend church. He looked at me and told me that church is for the sinner. Because of that, we are all worthy to attend. Of course, he did’t attend either so I didn't put much stock in his words at that time. My grandma would tell me to attend for the teachings and not the people. She did attend church, but was an old person so how could she understand what I was feeling.

After I was married and our bishopric found out that we had only just married yet had a 4 month old child I felt that I had lost my worth.  So when I received a calling to be a Primary teacher I was shocked. Then I realized the bulk of the younger women were all in the Primary made me realize that this is just where they put us.  And being I had never taught before I doubted my worth as a teacher.

For the next 22 years I fought with feelings of worthlessness in the church. The last 6 years have been the worst. In 2007 I had begun a relationship with a man who stated he was in the midst of a divorce that would soon be finalized. As mine was just about finalized I saw no issue with us seeing each other. Within just a few months we had moved in together. Partly because he had nowhere else to live and partly because it was just plain nice to have a man in the home again. For the next 2 years I waited for his divorce to finalize just as mine had not long after we began co-habitating. I finally called the courthouse to find out the status of his divorce only to be learn that the case was closed because of no action on it. When I confronted him, things did not go well. Shortly thereafter I told him to leave and never come back.

Because of my religious upbringing and life I felt it required to go to my bishop and confess my lifestyle choice and the changes I needed to make. A bishop’s court was convened and I found myself sitting before men I had respect for telling them things I never wanted to have to say out loud again. I was already ashamed that I had been used to play a hurtful game and that I’d also risked my kids’ hearts in the midst of it. But now I had to sit before these men and explain all the horrible and wrong things I had done over the previous 2 years. I was certain I would be excommunicated and almost welcomed the verdict. Imagine my surprise when I was “only” disfellowshipped.

Disfellowshipping in the LDS Church carries its own stigma separate from excommunication. I actually thing excommunication is kinder. When you are disfellowshipped the ward leaders are all quietly told. They are asked not to say anything to anyone, but that is never the case. It gets around quickly. When I showed up to church I realized people knew because no one sat by me except two very loyal friends. Most people barely acknowledged my existence in the room. I was unable to participate in lessons, say prayers, or partake of the sacrament. I basically had to come to church then sit down and shut up.

I think the worst part was not taking the sacrament. There are only two ways to handle this. One is to leave the chapel just before the sacrament is passed and hide out in some hidden corner until it’s over. Two is to sit in the chapel and refuse the bread and water when it comes to you. When you do the latter people wonder why and will ask you after the meeting. If you try to avoid the question they just get more insistent or they ask your children what’s going on with you. Then everyone knows you have no worth – at least according to the standards of the LDS Church.

Now I’m not saying this to be hateful towards the LDS Church. I made my choices and that included going to the bishop. What I hadn't anticipated was the way the members within my own ward would soon be treating me. Again, not everyone treated me poorly, but even one person is one too many. I was already doing penance, yet some felt this was not enough. Some felt it important to remind me very publicly to not participate. They seem to seek me out to shame me.

 I've been told that what I felt was guilt for my actions, not shame. What I've since learned about shame and guilt is best summed up by Brene Brown. She states on her website the following:

Based on my research and the research of other shame researchers, I believe that there is a profound difference between shame and guilt. I believe that guilt is adaptive and helpful – it’s holding something we've done or failed to do up against our values and feeling psychological discomfort.

I define shame as the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging – something we've experienced, done, or failed to do makes us unworthy of connection. 

I definitely felt shame and judgement. I felt that I had not met the standards set by the church and therefore I no longer had any worth. Eventually I quit attending church. One night I called one of my best friends in tears. I was so tired of feeling worthless. I had been diagnosed with Lupus shortly before and thought of it as a punishment for my failure to live worthily. Thankfully she knocked that nonsense out of my head. She invited me to attend church with her. Thus began my fellowship with Granger Christian Church.

Now to be raised Mormon and suddenly attend a more mainstream Christian church with real intent of learning not just experiencing is culture shock. Not once did they mention how we have to live life by meeting certain requirements outside of acknowledging and accepting Christ as the Savior, admitting we are sinners, and inviting him into our lives. For the first time in my life I said The Lord’s Prayer as if it were a prayer and not as if it were just lyrics to the latest choir song. It actually had meaning in my life. Each week at church they would invite those to the front who were ready to commit their lives to Christ. Week after week I felt compelled but did nothing. Then suddenly one week I found myself walking to the front. I had been Saved!

My bishop had become aware of our attendance at a different church. I was called in to his office to discuss it. I told him that I was not interested in attending the LDS Church at this time, but it could always change. I was certain I’d be excommunicated. Instead I was told that as long as I attended a different church to never expect the LDS Church to help with anything. That my family could be starving to death and the LDS Church still wouldn't help. I stood and walked out of his office.

A few short weeks later I met my husband. We continued to attend church for a few months together but slowly quit going. Not that I don’t love Granger Christian Church, because I do. But because it still didn't quite feel like the right place for me spiritually. But I had learned the importance of grace. Without grace nothing else matters. You can do all the good works you want but without grace you cannot be saved.

By the end of that year we had started attending our ward again. A new bishop and hopefully a new chance to find my worth. You see, I had always placed my worth on what is essentially a checklist of items required by the LDS Church. I had been baptized. Taken out my endowments. Sealed in the temple. Attend my church meetings as regularly as my work schedule permitted. Paid my tithing even if it meant I had to turn around and ask the bishop for financial help. My membership was fully reinstated shortly after we returned to the LDS Church. Yet I still felt unworthy. There were those who still knew how I had previously led my life and they judged me.

Every week I attended church was a struggle. It was a struggle to get out of bed. It was a struggle to get my family up and ready. It was a struggle to sit through meetings. The only thing that wasn't a struggle was coming home and changing out of that blasted skirt or dress. Then the time came for me to renew my temple recommend. I went through the checklist of questions, but still wondered if I was being fully honest or deceiving myself. I went to the stake and answered the questions and still wondered. Yet somehow I became a recommend carrying member again. But I couldn't get myself to attend the temple. I made some excuses like I didn’t want to go alone or I couldn't find anyone to go with. Knowing full well that those were just excuses. I went with an old coworker to perform baptisms for the dead and felt like I wasn’t worthy because of my past.

Then one of my best friends died. I was beyond devastated. It is 3 years this month that she has been gone. And it’s still just as fresh as the day it happened. So in an effort to be closer to her I attended the temple. Not just once but daily until the day of her funeral. I went by myself or found people to go with me. I found peace, but not in doing the work. No I found peace just sitting in the chapel before the session would start. I found peace in just sitting in the quiet of the day. And I felt her near me from time to time. And for a moment I felt worth again. She found me a worthy person to know. She had always told me I had worth, especially when I thought I didn’t have any. Saying goodbye to her is still one of the hardest things I’ve had to do. Because of her I knew I had to find my sense of worth again.

I began to read my scriptures more diligently. I prayed morning and night. If called to help I jumped in to do so. I served in my calling to the best of my ability. Yet that feeling of worth still didn’t come back to me. I went to the doctor because I was becoming very depressed and she put me back on antidepressants. I felt ashamed for needing them and my sense of worth fell further away. But I kept trying because I knew if I just stuck to that list of what gets you to the celestial kingdom that my worth would come back to me. But slowly and methodically all my prayers and scripture reading started to take me away from the church.

It wasn't just this feeling of being unworthy that led me away. It was also a lifetime of questioning. My husband would ask me questions as well and I never felt like I could adequately answer him. So I studied harder to be a better Mormon. Yet the more I studied the more I was taken down a path that led away from the church. But how could this be? This is supposed to be “The One True Church” and only those who will truly get to live with Christ are members…or are they?

The day finally came that we attended Community of Christ. Now I had been checking out the website for quite some time and one of the things that caught my attention was the concept of the “Worthof All Persons”. I kept praying to know if this was true. If I had already been found worthy. That it wasn't dependent on checkmarks on a list. I have no doubt that it was the answer to these prayers that led me to ask my husband if we could attend a service. I've previously written about that experience so I won’t go into it here.

It has been here that the idea of grace and worth have finally come together for me. I feel worth and not just spiritually. I feel worth in every aspect of my life. Let me tell you, it is empowering to know, without a doubt, you have worth. That regardless of what anyone thinks of you, the Lord knows your worth and he/she has never doubted your divine nature. Such peace came into my life with this knowledge.

So what brought about this post at this time? Well today, as I was feeling sorry for myself being stuck at work on a Saturday, I decided to listen to the latest podcast on Project Zion. The women on this particular podcast spoke the words of my heart. It was as if someone had reached inside me and presented them with my thoughts and feelings of unworthiness. The raw emotion came rushing back and I knew it was time to let this wound fully close and heal. So thank you to the women who recorded this podcast. Thank you for helping me to heal and reminding me how great is the worth of a soul.

Misdirection and Marginalization

About 5 years into my marriage things were not well. We fought often and frequently did not speak to each other. I was working a part time job as a preschool teacher. Our oldest was in kindergarten. Life was not happy. We had sold our home and moved back to apartment living. I liked our apartment as we had more actual living space than our house. We had some good neighbors. And we were living in the same Ward as my only living Grandma. She was not (and still isn't) a busy body. 

After only a few months of living at this new place I realized just how unhappy I was in my marriage. And then the rumors started. In the Ward was an old girlfriend of my husband's. It only took a short amount of time before rumors started about an affair between them. I confronted him and he denied. I confronted her and she denied. Yet I still doubted. People were treating me differently at church and conversation would stop when I walked into a room. I started asking around our complex and continued to doubt. 

I was called into the bishop's office one evening. I was half expecting to receive some sort of calling but was met with something entirely different. The bishop was aware of the rumors and had his own advice to give me. He must've figured I was contemplating divorce. Little did he know that this wasn't the first time it had been on my mind. He asked me to read out loud Mark 10:2-12.

2 The Pharisees came and asked Him, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” testing Him. 

3 And He answered and said to them, “What did Moses command you?” 

4 They said, “Moses permitted a man to write a certificate of divorce, and to dismiss her.” 

5 And Jesus answered and said to them, “Because of the hardness of your heart he wrote you this precept. 6 But from the beginning of the creation, God ‘made them male and female.’ 7 ‘For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, 8 and the two shall become one flesh’; so then they are no longer two, but one flesh. 9 Therefore what God has joined together, let not man separate.” 

10 In the house His disciples also asked Him again about the same matter. 11 So He said to them, “Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her. 12 And if a woman divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.”

As I read this out loud my heart began to drop. When I was finished, this bishop looked at me and told me that the Lord had revealed to him as the bishop and a worthy priesthood holder that I needed to forgive my husband, trust him, and focus on my marriage. He told me that anytime I felt like divorce was the answer to read this passage and remind myself it meant that I was willing to be called an adulterer. 

I walked out of his office absolutely fuming. When I arrived home I was met with a very bewildered husband who was told I would not attend church as long as this bishop was our bishop. I told him I was done. I knew instinctively that this scripture was being used as a weapon. We attempted to move our records to another Ward but the bishop refused without meeting with us. So we went and when I told him what he had done he stated that because he is older and wiser and more adept and understanding the Lord I was jealous. He stated he would not permit our records to be moved. I told him I would never attend the Ward as long as he was bishop. 

My husband was so confused. He seemed to feel justified in his words and actions by this bishop. I felt attacked and made to be less than in a marriage which, according the the Proclaimation on the Family, stated we are equals...but really we never were. He viewed himself as the head and ruler with me as an underling only slightly higher in rank than our children. 

That fall, 1999, we temporarily separated. It only lasted about a month, but it did help us with somewhat of a reset to our relationship. We set some rules of communication and focused harder on our marriage. Things started to even out. But that scripture passage was the real reason I didn't follow through with a divorce. I felt like I'd need to wear a scarlet A on all my clothing if we divorced. Certainly not the reason to stay together. 

The truly sad part is this was not the last bishop to use this passage of scripture with me as a way to remain married. The marriage was not healthy for either of us. We had both become very emotionally abusive with one another. Ultimatums were the norm. Bouts of childish not speaking to one another occurred as well. Yet we were told time and again to follow the teachings in this passage. We made it to one marriage counseling session. It was abismally bad and a different counselor was not sought. 

Looking back I feel sorry for this couple who felt forced together and threatened who divorce was considered. When the unhealthy relationship was only going to grow more unhealthy. Oh I was good at putting up an "All is well" front. On occasion I would slip and he would correct me. But happily married we were not. 

It wasn't until a couple of weeks ago that the pain, hurt, and anger from this passage began to heal. First, I needed that first marriage to appreciate who I am with now. And to prepare me for who I am with. Second, this scripture was seriously misused. It was wielded as a weapon instead of being used as a balm. Through a great Sunday School lesson I've found new meaning and see this now as a reminder as to how NOT to treat those who are marginalized by society. The Lord does see us as equals. Yet we still manage to divide ourselves. This scripture is a lesson to lift up those who are marginalized. It helps to read the next 4 verses. 

13 Then they brought little children to Him, that He might touch them; but the disciples rebuked those who brought them. 14 But when Jesus saw it, He was greatly displeased and said to them, “Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of God. 15 Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it.” 16 And He took them up in His arms, laid His hands on them, and blessed them.

Children in the time of Christ were some of the most marginalized. Their value was in what they could do to help provide for the family and did not have the value they have today. I have felt marginalized by a church that placed men and priesthood higher than anything else. So much time spent feeling less than when in His eyes I am no higher or lower than the person next to me. 

I could go on and on about the horrible men these bishops were to me, but I no longer feel that anger. Learning to see these scriptures in a new light has begun to heal a very deep wound. I'd still rather not be around these people, but I am no longer angry. I am finding peace, love, and acceptance. 

Can I Be Authentically Me?

A few people recently pointed out to me that I can celebrate the new direction my life is going without tearing down the LDS Church. That all I'm doing is being hateful towards the church and tried to tell others they should feel the same way. So I've gone back and looked at my posts and tried to use a critical eye. A couple of years ago I would have felt bad for the person writing such things because they had obviously had numerous church leaders and priesthood holders use their position and/or authority as a weapon. I would do my best to understand their anger and put myself in their shoes. I guess that makes me different from most. And that is fine.

In recent days, since the LDS General Conference, I have found that many who stated they support me were only doing so as long as I didn't point out anything that might appear negative towards "the church." So when I pointed out that the new apostles called dies appointed me because they are older white men from Utah it was not well received. Technically this is true. They are each 60 years of age or older, Caucasian, and all reside in Utah (although on spent much of his youth in Sweden). I stated my disappointment that there is no racial diversity among the Quorum of Twelve. That at a time such as this one would think this was important. I then stated that I am glad that Community of Christ has such diversity amongst the Council of Twelve. Evidently this comparison is hateful. 

I've been called out on meme's I've posted which reference Doctrine & Covenants (CoC version) as being falsehoods and following Satan. Meanwhile many of these same people are telling me that I'll come back to the LDS Church and forget all this nonsense. These comments do not exactly make me want to race to the nearest Ward house and beg forgiveness. They actually have succeeded in pushing me further away. 

A brief side note here...I do have some great LDS friends who are very supportive and we've agreed to disagree. These friends are as rare and valuable as a precious gem. I thank the Lord daily for their existence in my life. 

Early this morning I decided to respond to something my husband shared. It was met with such hatred my heart broke. I felt as if I no longer had any worth. That this faith journey I've been on for so long wasn't as valid as I thought if all I could do was attack their precious religion. 

I was sitting at work in near tears. I took my break and wandered into the empty break room. I had previously posted about this attack in the LDS Seekers group on Facebook. I read the outpouring of love and support. I then opened my email and found the Daily Bread blog post for today. This gave me strength. With a prayer in my heart and my spirit re-centered I returned to my job. My co-worker noticed a change in me and asked what was going on. So I showed her the comments made and she gave me a hug and told me what an amazing and strong woman I am. I felt better. I also read some messages I had from friends who have become great supporters of my family during this religious transition.

At lunch I sat and read information on the Community of Christ website and prayed some more. I also tried to stand up for myself on that specific Facebook thread and was cut down again. It led to yet more people I know being blocked so I don't have to deal with their hate filled words towards me. And then I decided I needed to reread the Enduring Principles again. The one that spoke the strongest to me at this point was the Worth of all Persons. I felt Him speak to me through these words and remind me that regardless of what others around me think He knows my worth. That He knows the worth of us all as it is He who created us all. He has guided me to this place at this time to finally learn that no person/business/religion can determine my worth. He has let me know that my worth cannot be measured by human standards. And when it comes down to it, only His opinion is what truly matters.

So while I am still hurt, I am not angry. I am at peace with my creators. It is my duty to strive harder to be a better person and to ask forgiveness when it is needed. I also have reminded myself that it is not my duty to be responsible for how others may respond to what I say but to try to say it in as little of an offensible way as possible. If I say something you don't like, that's ok. Remember, this is my journey, not yours. I don't expect you to see it from my shoes. I'm sharing this for me, not necessarily for you. For this is MY truth.

The Stigma of Depression

In the spring of 1998 I fell into a deep abyss of depression. I couldn't function. I could barely take care of my children. I wanted to die. Reaching out for help in an LDS world felt like I'd failed. But I did reach out to my bishop who sent me to LDS Family Services for counseling. Fortunately I had a great therapist. He was very concerned about how depressed and withdrawn from life I had become and recommended I get into a doctor and start some sort of antidepressant immediately. So I called my doctor and learned it would be at least a month before I could get in to see her.  At that point all hope was lost.

My husband was home sick from work that day. I looked at him and told him it was good he was there because if he'd gone to work he would've come home to me being dead. It was a cry for help. Instead he became angry and told me how selfish I was acting. This did not help how I felt. I called my therapist and told him I appreciated his help but I was not worthy of help and deserved to be dead. He asked to speak to my husband and told him to get me to the emergency room immediately. My husband was not happy about this at all, but he took me there. 

In the ER I was asked a lot of questions about how I felt.  Then came the big question. "If we send you home are you going to hurt yourself?" Yes. Yes I will. And then I detailed my plan. The look of pure terror on my husband's face just made me feel even more of a failure. I understand now why he looked at me that way. He was truly terrified I would follow through with my plan.  Letting them know all this in the ER was my ticket to the Psychiatric Unit. I was taken to the unit within just a few minutes. They sent my husband home and gave him a way to contact me. 

I won't detail my time in the psych ward. But I will say that I learned much about how to cope with the negative thoughts that were running through my head daily. I met people with a variety of mental health conditions and realized many of us dealt with the same issues. Almost all of us had some form of religious upbringing or life. It seemed odd that we all had this love of Christ yet we couldn't find his light in our lives. 

I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder and a major depressive event.  It was during this stay that I was told I would most likely spend the rest of my adult life on some form of medication therapy to maintain an even keel.  This has been pretty accurate.  If you met me face to face you would never suspect the demons I live with. The fears and the struggles. 

However, this was not my first go around with suicidal ideations.  Less than a year later I once again descended into the depths of hell.  This time I actually followed through with my plan. I took over 50 sleeping pills. My children were all at home. It was a Thursday afternoon. For some reason the pills took quite a while to kick in and my husband had come home from work. I had actually called him hours earlier at work and told him what I had done. His solution was to tell me to force myself to throw up.  I couldn't do it. I wanted to be dead. So when he came home from work and I was not acting right he realized that the drugs were taking effect.  Even at this point he did nothing. He fed the kids dinner then called his parents to see if they could watch our children that evening. It was nearly 8pm before he pulled up to the hospital. Nearly 8 hours since I had swallowed the first pill. The medications were finally taking full effect and I fell asleep. 

I remember hearing the monitors beep and everything slowing down. I remember the sense of rush and panic. Then the darkness came. Think about the darkest place you have ever been. You cannot see anything. Not even your hand an inch from your face. But this darkness was deeper. It was as if the light of Christ had been removed from me as well. Hope was lost. I could hear cries of pain and agony. Perhaps some were coming from me. I begged God to remove me from this Hell. That I wanted to go home. I wanted to be anywhere but this place.  

Then my eyes opened. The doctor was standing there and told me they thought for a minute they were going to lose me. I was given activated charcoal to drink (the other option was a tube up my nose and down my throat to pump it in). This is the nastiest stuff on earth. It's like crushing a charcoal briquette, mixing it with just enough water to make a slurry, then drinking it. It took a week to get the gritty taste out of my mouth. Even now, 17 years later. I can recall the taste. After a promise that I would not hurt myself again I was sent home. I slept for 3 days. 

Looking back I can almost understand why my husband became somewhat enamored with a woman in our ward. They had dated before he had met me. Rumors flew through the ward that an affair was going on. I'm not accusing him of an affair and stood firmly that one did not occur. An email I received after our separation told me that an affair had occurred. Whether or not this is the truth is a moot point now. I have forgiven him any indiscretion he may have had at that point. 

I know now that living with someone with mental health issues cannot be easy. My husband Dan lives with schizo-affective disorder (co occurring bipolar and schizophrenia). There are days where it is hard to cope, so I get where my ex-husband is coming from when he talked about my mental issues being difficult to deal with. But I have triumphed. Three times in the last 17 years I've had major backslides, but none required hospitalization. Therapy is my friend. Medication is required. Understanding that I have triggers and sometimes they are unpredictable. 

I want to note that my experience as the sleeping pills took affect and I slipped into darkness does not mean that is what always happens. My husband had an entirely different experience with his own suicide attempt years ago. You can read about it here. I stated this because I don't want those who read this to think their loved one who succeeded with suicide is lost. I believe God knew I needed that experience to keep me here to do a work I have yet to figure out.

Why share this now? It's the end of Suicide Awareness Month. I'm hoping that this reaches someone who feels like I did and realizes there is hope. Just reach out and there is someone there who loves  you. Don't be afraid to ask for help. It right at your finger tips. May you find peace, light, and love. And may your story not end short, but have a semicolon where it continues on.

My Spiritual Home - A Church OF Christ not about Christ

In August my family began attending church at the Community of Christ (aka RLDS). I was a bundle of nerves that day. As we approached the building a woman behind us let us know that the sign on the door said "use other door" just meant the other half of the double door we were facing. We opened the door and walked in. Immediately two women seemed to rush forward and introduce themselves to us. The one thing I noticed about each of these women was the quiet strength which seemed to flow from them. One woman introduced herself as the Pastor. I'd met other women pastors before so I wasn't too surprised. But what did surprise me was the feeling of confirmation that she was called to her position. The second woman stepped forward and introduced herself as well. Love seemed to flow from her and I could feel immediate acceptance. We entered the Sanctuary and sat down for Sunday School - wooden pews with movable cushions to sit on. We were welcomed by those around us. My husband has a friend at this congregation and he came over to welcome us.

I thought how unlike attending a new ward when you are LDS. Most people just ignore you until some Relief Society or Elders Quorum President notices you, singles you out, and makes you introduce yourself to the entire room. Something I hated even when I was more extroverted in my younger years.

After this amazing welcoming experience Sunday School began. My 13yo daughter was asked if she wanted to join the kids or the adults. She opted to join the adults. I looked around the room to take in the kind of people who attend the congregation. I saw the woman who we saw outside, a young couple, a smattering of older, possibly single women, and this older gentleman with long white hair and a long white beard. It was quite the eclectic bunch.

I heard someone walk in and I glanced behind me to see who it was. As the group wasn't very big it was easy to make eye contact with everyone. In walked this sweet looking young couple with a small child. Somehow I knew she would understand where I was coming from. As I listened to the discussion I realized that a discussion is exactly what it was. My husband's friend was leading this amazing discussion on a scripture passage. People disagreed but at the same time they respected others right to feel the way they did. I'd never experienced such an enlightened discussion in my 23  years of adulthood within the LDS Church. I found myself joining in. Even my husband and my 13 year old shared their thoughts. My 13 year old was shown love and respect for her thoughts and opinions. Something she had repeatedly told me she didn't feel when attending Young Women's.

Through out the lesson I continually felt as if someone sitting behind me to my left kept talking to me. But not a soul was there. The 2 or 3 pews behind us were all empty on the left hand side. This person kept telling me that I'd finally found it. That I was in the right place. That it was good I was there. And that they were happy I'd come home. My heart was overflowing with joy.

All too soon the lesson ended. Some of the women started talking about the April General Conference and I couldn't help but join in. These women understood what I was feeling and shared some of my frustrations. Before I knew it I was being given information for the upcoming Ladies Night in a few days. As my 18 year old was home not feeling well I couldn't wait to get home to her and tell her all about it.

Then the worship service started. I knew this would be a whole new world. There was the Call to Peace that gave me the same feeling as I had when I attended the funeral of a teacher at my children's school who had passed away a few years earlier. This teacher was Ute and the drums were played at her funeral. It was that same primal call to center ones self with the divine. The worship service wasn't too different than the ones I attended at a Granger Christian Church. There they too have a woman pastor and a great feeling of peace.

When the meeting came to an end I wanted to cry. I didn't want it to be over. I wanted it to go on all day. At the same time I was eager to get home and tell my 18 year old all about the amazing experience we had. As we were found ourselves back in the foyer I saw the display with all sorts of pamphlets about Community of Christ. There was also some copies of their version of the Doctrine and Covenants. I grabbed one curious to see the difference.

When we arrived at home I was completely energized. I talked like mad to my daughter and then suddenly felt the need to visit my mom. So off we went to see my mom.  My mom had known for years that I had struggled with the LDS Church but she supported me with my goals to be a "worthy member" even though she had her own thoughts and feelings about the church. Telling her about our experience that day was phenomenal. In fact, every time I see her we talk about Community of Christ and what is happening. She is very happy to see we have found a place where we feel we belong.

Unfortunately not everyone in my life is as happy for me as my mom.  I have friends who are delighted along with other family members. My dad is heartbroken and I understand why. I love him regardless and without condition. Others have been less than thrilled and some have been down right harsh.

You see, I was not upfront with anyone about my doubts and concerns over my membership in the LDS Church. I constantly felt like a square peg trying to be forced into a round hole.  It just wasn't working. I researched other churches and over the years I had visited many denominations. In fact, I attended Granger Christian Church on a fairly regular basis for over a year. It was there that I fully embraced the Savior and acknowledge that without him in my life I cannot be saved. Anyways, I had spent most of my life intrigued by the Community of Christ. It drove my ex-husband and father crazy. I always wanted to know more and was discouraged.   So when I told people I was dealing with a faith crisis they became worried and I noticed a bit of a "circle the wagons" mentality coming up from our ward. So I asked to be left alone to figure it out. I let them know the only thing I needed was prayers to find the answers I was looking for. I highly doubt any of these people realized the direction their prayers would ultimately send me.

About two weeks before we took the step to attend Community of Christ I asked my husband to reach out to his friend for more specific information as to what to expect. I didn't want to walk into this and be blindsided. His friend had left the LDS Church and joined Community of Christ less than a year before and I figured he'd be a good resource. And he was and still is. So walking into church I had a general idea of what to expect. I was still hesitant to actually attend and it took nearly 2 weeks to work up the courage. I'm glad I was daring enough to do something different.

We are still having our usual struggles, but we are finding ways to handle them and make the necessary changes without always running to the bishop for help and advice. We have a new range of friends and feel like we are part of an actual community. Recently my lupus came out of remission These people actually care and have asked what can be done to help us and would we like to be on the prayer roll. I've received a priesthood blessing from a woman who I call friend and guide. In whom I have no doubt was called to the priesthood. Today I joined in a business meeting at church as 5 people had their names put forward to hold a priesthood office. 2 men and 3 women. Only 1 of them I have not had the opportunity to really get to know but I felt the witness that these calls are of God. In fact, with two of them I was surprised that they did not already hold the priesthood office already.

So why change now? Why at 41 years of age did I decide to leave the LDS Church? Quite simply because I am, for the first time in my life, truly following where the Holy Spirit is guiding me. I have placed my life in her hands and asked her to take me to my home here on Earth. She has led me to this amazing congregation and wonderful new friends. She has encouraged me to ask questions and kept my heart open to the new things I need to learn before fully becoming a member of this congregation. I know I have found my home. My religious center. My peace. And my truly relationship with the divine.

I found my Home Sweet Home...

Power of Priesthood Blessings.

The first time I remember receiving a priesthood blessing I was 7 years old and sick with pneumonia. I remember my dad and a couple of other men being there as they blessed me to be made whole. The one thing that has stuck in my memory is my own thought of "leave me alone, I don't feel good". I guess at age 7 I didn't understand the power of prayer.

As a teenager I at times, even in my uncertainty of God and Christ's existence, I would ask my dad for a blessing. He knew I was struggling spiritually. And he was there to support me however he could. I can't say the blessings ever brought me much peace, but it was a foundation to be built upon. And it taught me that having a priesthood holder in the home is vital.

Two and a half years into marriage and my husband still held the office of Priest. He had not been ordained to the Melchizedek priesthood but was going to be in just a few short month. This is when my first real experience with blessings occurred. Our oldest had her left eye suddenly cross in. I took her to the doctor as she'd had a concussion a few months before and I was concerned it was related. The doctor looked at her eyes and did a thorough exam. He then informed me that she needed an MRI as soon as possible. He picked up the phone and called the local children's hospital to schedule the test. I could see the disappointment on his face when he was told it would need to be the next day. I was scared. And his next words brought terror into my heart. He told me to prepare for the worst. What kind of doctor does that? Naturally I was terrified.

What was he seeing and how will we cope with something horrific happening to our little girl? My husband immediately called our home teachers and they came that evening to give her a blessing. Now my kiddo would not sit for the blessing unless she was in my arms. The home teachers were less than thrilled with the situation, but went along with it. After her blessing I still didn't feel much peace. I was so afraid I'd lose my child to something awful.

As I put her to bed that night I held her close and prayed. I asked God to heal my child. That I knew she had a great purpose here on Earth. Tears fell as I begged God to spare this child. I felt such warmth and peace spread throughout my body as I prayed. I kissed her on the top of the head, tucked her in, and left the room. My husband didn't want to talk about what was happening so I pulled inward and tried to understand what was going on. I called my mom and she reminded me to pray

Finally exhaustion won and I crawled into bed to sleep. At some point during the night I woke to a glorious bright light in my room and a person standing next to my bed (which was a feat because I had boxes of books there). This person told me that because of my faith and my prayers my daughter was to be made whole. This person went on to explain what was going on and the dangers that would occur if it were not for the prayers for healing I had given that night. I cried and cried. The person and the light left my room. I woke my husband, astounded that he slept through this event, and told him what had happened. He said I'd had a vivid dream and to go back to sleep.

The next day we took our daughter to the hospital for the MRI. She fought the medications they gave her to help her sleep. She even managed to break a papoose board they had strapped her to in hopes of placing an IV and giving her medication that way. My mom showed up and hugged my daughter. I picked up this adorable little fighter and held her and rocked her. I had a hand on her head holding it against my chest and prayed that she would calm down and let the medicine take hold so the test could be done. Soon after she fell asleep and we placed her on the MRI machine. About an  hour later they came and got us. She had slept through the entire test and once she woke up and ate something we could go home. We were also told to the doctor would call with the results.

It took two days for the call to come. Two very long, very stressful days. Then the call came. I was expecting to be asked to meet him at his office, but no. He stated it was good news. Whatever it was he saw was not on the MRI. He had been certain there was a mass there, but the MRI was clean. We received a referral to an ophthalmologist to follow up with her eyes. My daughter was healed. Well mostly healed. Her left eye remained crossed and the ophthalmologist gave us the diagnosis of amblyopia (lazy eye). We did the patching method and the fresnal prism lens. These did not help so she required surgery. Thankfully this was not as traumatic as the MRI to get her to sleep. We expected a full recovery and for a while it seem that all was well. Then she began to have vision issues with her left eye. Black spots occurred. It seems that while the surgery straightened her eye the effect of the surgery weren't as good. She would continue to lose vision and eventually go blind. But her eyes will be straight. It was a tough pill to swallow.  All my prayers seemed unanswered, until I realized I was waiting for that bright light and person to show up again. Then my prayers were answered with the reminder that my daughter had been healed once already and for that I should always be grateful. This new development would be hers to overcome and I just needed to be supportive. Now this child is 22  years old, married, and attending one of the toughest engineering colleges in the US.

In the midst of all of this my husband was ordained to the Melchizedek priesthood. I was also struggling with my 3rd pregnancy. I received many blessings during that pregnancy, but never felt that particular peace with it. It felt as if something was missing. Any time my husband gave me a blessing it felt empty. I still can't explain it other than to say I don't think I trusted his faith at that point.

Years went by and if I wanted a blessing I typically turned to my dad for one. I'm sure it offended my husband, but I felt more at peach having my dad bless me. His faith in the power of prayer inspired me to work on my faith.

When my divorce happened many people in our ward made sure I knew where a priesthood holder lived so I could get a blessing when needed. they apologized because I didn't have a priesthood holder in my home. I ended up living  8 years without a priesthood holder in my home, yet blessing occurred often. I frequently gave my daughters blessings. My youngest became very sick and I placed my hands on her head and blessed her with a healing prayer.

This may all seem somewhat heretical to those who feel only worthy priesthood holders can give blessings, but anyone can say a prayer. That's all it is. You are drawing on the power you are born with to send energy to another person. I have had some of the most comforting and healing prayers from a dear friend in Pennsylvania. I can always feel her presence when she prayers for me. And being we deal with a lot of similar health issues we pray for one another daily.

Where am I going with all of this? Well this past week I asked the pastor at the Community of Christ congregation we are attending for a blessing. She has been called to be an apostle so I knew this would be a unique blessing. I can tell you there are some subtle differences in the healing prayers of the LDS Church and the Community of Christ. I can also tell you that any questions I've had about where the priesthood keys are held were answered.

This was the single most beautiful experience I have had in communication with the Lord. You see, when my dad or another LDS priesthood holder would give me a blessing I felt as if someone had wrapped their arms around me in comfort and protection. I still believe that this is because of my faith and not just because of the blessing. As my sweet friend and pastor Robin laid her hands on my head and began to pray no arms of comfort came around me. It was odd. I was trying to concentrate on her words, but my mind insisted on asked why I wasn't feeling the same thing I'd almost always felt. A voice came into my mind and spoke. This voice told me that I no longer needed that protection. Within seconds the room seemed to fill with people. I felt the presence of loved ones that have passed on. And all of my questions about my faith journey and where I was going were answered.

When the blessing ended I fully expected to see a room packed with people upon opening my eyes. Instead I saw Robin and Dan.  My husband looked at me expectantly. I through my arms around Robin and thanked her for the blessing. I knew that what ever comes next is what is meant to be. I hugged my husband and we spoke with Robin about the process required to join Community of Christ.

Yes, priesthood blessings can be an amazing thing. But I don't think only a priesthood holder has the power to bless someone. I believe that anyone can bless another person as long as they both have faith that the blessing will be heard. I believe that the comfort of having someone lay their hands on your head and pray for you while sharing their healing energy does not require priesthood keys. This power is within us all. I, for one, plan to access this power more often now. Next time my kids get sick I won't race around looking for a worthy priesthood holder (my husband has left the LDS Church and so have I). Instead I will take the healing power bestowed upon me by God and pray over my child myself. I will do this for my husband as well. Having faith in the power of prayer is a cornerstone of my faith foundation. And I am blessed to have such faith in my life.

After all, Joseph Smith did tell the women at the first ever meeting of the Relief Society that they have the ability to perform blessings as well. And if he, the one through who the priesthood keys were restored, stated that women have the power to give blessings then who am I to deny that right to myself and any other woman.