Author: Broken Handmaid of the Lord

As I’ve studied the New Testament this year, I have had a truth testified to me over and over again. God doesn’t see people the same way you do. God cares about one thing; how much love we have in our hearts. Every society has its throw-away people. I’ve heard them called, the near dead. They are the ones that we turn our eyes away from. In the Savior’s day they were the lame, the blind, and the leprous. Likewise, the publicans and the harlots occupied the fringes of society. Just close enough to be of use, but not so close as to tarnish the reputations of the hypocrites who exploited them. They cast them out, despised them, and blamed them for their problems. The disciples asked, “Did this man sin or his parents that he was born blind?” We want to believe that we have some control over the circumstances of our lives. No one wants to end up as a throw-away person. It is comforting to think that we have the power to prevent ourselves from suffering such a fate.

Today we have our near dead; our throw away people. Most of them are mentally or emotionally ill. They walk the streets of our cities, fill our homeless shelters, stand in line at our soup kitchens. They strip in our clubs, they sell their bodies, they inhabit our jails and prisons. They are enslaved to the substances they have become addicted to. They are victimized, abused, and forgotten by friends and family. It is so easy to do as the disciples in Jesus’s day did and ask, “Did this person sin or was it his or her parents that he is mentally ill, that he is addicted to substances, that she is stripping in a club?” It is comforting to think that someone is to blame for the unfortunate circumstances these miserable people find themselves in. This judgment calms our fear that we or someone we care about might end up there.

The Lord commands us to exercise righteous judgement. He showed us the way when he was confronted with a situation where an adulterous woman came to him, wept on his feet, washed them and dried them with her hair. I imagine the connection those two must have had in that moment. The near dead woman, and her Savior……as she expressed her love and he forgave her sins. I can hardly imagine a more tender and sacred scene. And the Pharisee and master of the house missed it! In his concern for rule following and building a hedge around the Law of Moses, and seeing with his fallen mortal eyes, he thought the Savior was in error. The Savior tried to help him see. He explained that a person who is forgiven much loves more than someone who is forgiven little!

Now there is an irony! Those who find themselves trapped and tormented by serious sin in turn have a greater love and adoration for the Savior who delivers them. If all God really cares about is how much love we have in our hearts, the throw away people have a greater spiritual potential than anyone else. So ironically, the publicans and harlots that were healed by the Savior in His day had hearts full of love and gratitude to the Savior. They were allowed into the Kingdom of Heaven. In contrast, the outwardly righteous Pharisees and Sadducees were shut out. Why? Because the Pharisees and Sadducees didn’t love Him. They didn’t need Him. They didn’t ask for His forgiveness and so their sins remained.

In exercising righteous judgment, perhaps we need to cast out our fear. Perhaps we need to let go of the need to assign blame to “this man or his parents.” Perhaps the existence of the near dead and the throw away people of our society is so that God can show forth the glory of His power to save; to exalt those who have been cast down and rejected of men. Think of the possibilities! This is maybe my favorite video that the church has put out.

I love the look on her face as she talks about the moment when she saw the sister missionaries and she knew that her prayers had been heard and answered. How much love did she feel for her Savior in that moment? Like the woman who washed the Savior’s feet, her love was greater because of her sins. Because she loved Him, she was saved. This woman’s story inspires me, as do all the stories of those who have survived the horrors that this world has thrown at them and managed to find their path to salvation.

One of my spiritual gifts is faith. I honestly and truly believe that God can do anything. I believe that the only thing that keeps us from having his will realized is our own lack of faith. I know that my Savior has the power to save. It doesn’t matter how shabby your life, what is in your past, or whether or not you are accepted by your fellow men. In fact, if you find your heart is broken and your spirit is contrite, you just might be on the path to salvation. You might find your heart is full of more love and more light than any of the “righteous people,” who judge you as unworthy. In the end, the Lord just might see you as more fit for his kingdom than they are! Its happened before.

It always used to confuse me when I read in the scriptures, “And the last shall be first, and the first shall be last.” What?? The Lord’s ways are circuitous and convoluted. He doesn’t follow societal rules of fallen man. He is no respecter of persons. I am still working on understanding the ways He finds to bless His children, but one thing is certain. God doesn’t see people the way I do. God sees the heart, and that is all that matters to Him.

I decided to share my last post to Facebook. I got over thee hundred views. I was hopeful that my insights and testimony would be appreciated. They were for the most part. Except for one person.

I took my featured image off of a public Facebook post. I couldn’t remember where I got it. I shared the post to our tour group page and mentioned that if anyone wanted credit for their image to let me know.

A girl commented that the sunset photo I had featured was hers. Throughout the evening she was very critical of me and demanded that I take the photo down. She was upset that I had misspelled her name. Later she denigrated my experience on Saturday night. “You slept through the whole thing.”

I cried for an hour. I couldn’t sleep last night. I tried to focus on the positive feedback and interactions I had with others on Facebook, but the experience hit a trigger for me. My blog is poison. It hurts people. I express myself and I do it “wrong.” I should just keep my writing to myself, hide my authentic self behind a mask, or better yet, a concrete wall. I’m a fool to think that my perspective and my willingness to share with vulnerability will lead to anything but pain.

I’ve also become increasingly discouraged with my ward relief society. They seem incapable of directly confronting the problems they have created, preferring to ignore them and plow forward making the same mistakes. I can forgive them, but I can’t change them or make them safe for me.

It sucks living in a fallen world! My sensitive nature makes me ill-equipped to handle the bumps and bruises here. I guess the Savior didn’t fit here either. Why should I expect that I would if I tried to follow him?

The world loves their own. If I was of the world they would love me. I would fit and be comfortable here. The fact that I don’t fit means that it isn’t where I belong. I belong with Him.

He judges me by my heart and he knows the secret thoughts of all. He knows all the sins of those who put on a pious show. He sees into the dark places. In him my soul shall find needed rest.

I ask Him, show me my sin! Show me my sin that I should repent. He says, “Your heart is pure before me and I will take thine adversity and count it to thy favor. Fools mock, but they shall mourn. In that day they shall not have comfort for they gave none.”

Yesterday I attended Sunday School in my parent’s ward. I could tell right away that too much input from me might make for a controversial situation. I wanted to avoid creating a scene, so I decided to zone out. I made a couple of innocuous comments, but tried to avoid voicing anything that would make anyone really engage their brains. At the very end of the lesson, I came out of my self induced mental fog to hear the instructor quoting a list of requirements to live a moral life. It was repulsive to me. Every other item on the list was “bridle the tongue.” It seemed that the purpose of the list was solely to dissuade people from rocking the social boat. I considered asking where this list had come from and questioning its doctrinal validity, but decided against it. I bridled my tongue. And I deadened my brain. And I was angry at myself for it.

I pondered yesterday about the way I was trained to not be a problem, to disengage my brain, to make others comfortable. I did that for almost forty years of my life. I have made others comfortable, but destroyed my relationship and trust in myself. I’ve damaged my self respect because I have not lived honestly. I haven’t spoken when something needed to be said. Like a plant that allows other plants to steal its sunlight and water, I have withered and failed to reach my potential in a misguided effort to allow others to thrive. My Savior has encouraged me to find my voice and make a space for myself. Unfortunately, he spoke truly when he said that he was not come to bring peace on Earth, but a sword. It seems that whenever I assert myself, I get a lot of pushback.

I had another unfortunate incident with my relief society leadership. It involved another sister in the ward with severe depression. I made the mistake of trusting someone in the leadership to handle the situation with discretion. In the end confidences were violated and many people who should not have been involved became involved. I confronted the sister with an attempt to prevent a similar situation in the future, but she became upset and defensive. I learned what I should have already known by now. I can’t depend on support from the official leadership of the church when it comes to these sensitive mental health issues. Unfortunately, that means that we who suffer must suffer alone, or with limited and many times inadequate support.

Since this incident I have felt blocked in my writing. I have a potent fear of the power of my voice to create controversy, conflict, and discord. I have bridled my tongue. But is that what my master would have me do? He was the speaker of uncomfortable truth. He was the King of confronting and overcoming what others turned their faces away from. He spoke, he engaged, he reprimanded, and he shared his light. What would he say to me as I allow my fear to silence my voice? Would he say “Well done! The light makes others uncomfortable. Best to keep it safely hidden under the bushel.” I don’t think he would. So I’m giving my reins a little slack today. I am giving my tongue a little freedom. To testify of my Savior and remind myself that silence is not always a virtue. Sometimes it is a coward’s excuse. I can speak out without being responsible for the problems that my words reveal. I can forgive myself for making others uncomfortable because I am pleasing my Lord. He is Mighty to Save! Blessed be His name!

Last night I was feeling discouraged. Satan can take the greatest successes, the most triumphant moments, the hardest fought victories, and somehow reframe them in my mind as failures. It is his superpower and my kryptonite.

So last night I prayed for a while to help me feel a sense of meaning, purpose and direction. Several women I love have shared their stories with me. I had the fantastic opportunity last week to introduce two of three of them to one another and watched them build trust, share their stories, and experience the immense relief that comes from acceptance, sisterhood, and love. As we sat at the Costa Vida, the sun slowly sunk from view, and the employees began stacking the chairs on top of the tables. Still we talked and shared, laughed and hugged, and made plans for our next get together. It’s hard to describe the joy and sisterhood that I felt that night. When we share these kinds of burdens in a safe environment, we realize that we aren’t alone, that there is purpose and meaning to our suffering, and that when we let go of the fear of judgement and rejection that drives us to hide our pain, we can get the sweet reward of support and genuine friendship.

I want everyone to have that! I want every friend that I know and love who suffers with burdens and is afraid to share them to feel the way we felt at Costa Vida. I want that for them and I want it NOW. Unfortunately, nothing about emotions can be rushed. Everyone shares when they are ready to share. It takes such tremendous courage! There is often a vulnerability hangover where we question the crazy decision to share our worst experiences. I’ve spent weeks afraid to get out of bed after a vulnerable post for fear that I would awake to a world of judgmental stares and cold shoulders.

As a listener, there can be an empathy drain where you feel overwhelmed by the suffering of others and the realization that evil and terrible things really do happen to good people. The world can be a horrible place where victims are blamed and shamed and their abusers are enabled and rewarded. Listening to victims shatters the illusion of safety and security. The vain hope that if you are a “good person” that you will somehow avoid being a victim is gone forever. The illusion that you can’t be hurt by church leaders or members or trusted friends or law enforcement officers is comforting, but untrue in a fallen world. Injustice, re-victimization, humiliation, and victim shaming are everyday occurrences in this fallen world, this planet of sorrows, this place where Satan’s chains circle the globe.

Still, as I witnessed in Costa Vida, victims can become survivors. Through the grace of Christ, and the charity that flows from Him, we can have the strength to rise above Satan. We can have the courage to share, even if it is only with ourselves at first, maybe in a journal. Later, a trusted friend. Gradually the circle of trusted friends can grow and eventually the fear is gone; replaced by a burning desire to advocate for others.

Last night I struggled to go to sleep, as I always do. I read ahead in my Come Follow Me gospel study to the book of Acts. Sometimes when I read the scriptures, the words come alive on the page for me. I have read Acts before. I even studied it in college, but last night it was like I was reading it for the first time. Peter, dear sweet, sensitive, impetuous Peter! I cannot fathom the pain and despair he must have experienced from the loss of his mentor, friend, and Savior. The suffering he must have gone through for those days when he was separated from his God must have been excruciating. When he saw Him again on the shore, he leapt from the boat and swam to meet him. Imagine the joy as the two embraced! Imagine the salty tears! In those precious days when Peter and Jesus were reunited, Peter’s soul was restored. Then he was given the Holy Ghost to strengthen him. Even though the Savior left, the Holy Ghost would always be with Peter, just as the Savior had been.

As he walked up the temple steps, I imagine his shame as he replayed the emotions of doubt and terror as he denied knowing the Savior. Here he was at the same place, and yet he pushed those emotions aside. He saw a disfigured man sitting begging outside the temple and he knew what to do. He walked up to him and in the name of his precious Master, he commanded him to rise and walk. The man entered the temple courtyard with Peter. He didn’t walk in, he danced! Imagine the spectacle they made! Then Peter, who had denied knowing Jesus Christ just days before, testified boldly of Him. The people rejoiced! Their Messiah was gone, but here was this man who channeled His spirit, healed in His name, and spoke with His conviction. For the people, it was as though Peter was the resurrected Christ, and in a way, he was. He was the leader of the Christian church; he would preach His doctrine with courage and confidence. All the forces of Hell had combined to destroy Jesus Christ and his message, and yet, in the fires of their hatred, Peter was forged. He was a mighty weapon of God!! Nothing could stop him. He was arrested, imprisoned, flogged, and eventually crucified, and yet his testimony has echoed in the hearts and minds of countless generations; lighting the fires of our own testimonies and showing us the path of a true disciple of Jesus Christ.

I relate with Peter. I’m impetuous, sensitive, and self-loathing at times. I’ve had doubts and fears. I’m the type of person who would cut off the ear of the servant in a misguided attempt to defend someone I love. Peter’s weaknesses are my weaknesses, his strengths my strengths. I need my Savior like he needed Him; in the waves as he tried to walk on the water; in the grief after Golgotha; in his ignorance and inexperience. He was not Jesus Christ. He was His instrument. His love for his Master fueled his testimony and with it, he changed the world. What if Christ has chosen me, just as he chose that humble fisherman in Galilee? What if through my words, I can bring souls to the Savior to be healed like Peter did?

There is a message He wants me to share with you. It is a message of hope and healing in a fallen world. HE IS THE HEALING PATH! It isn’t found in a counselor’s office or a baptismal font or a Priesthood blessing, or a bottle of medication; although He may lead you to any of those places and to any of those things. Just as Jesus Christ put mud on the eyes of the blind, he can use the things of this Earth to heal. Just as Jesus Christ’s apostles healed in his name, he can use his servants to heal. Maybe in a counselor’s office, maybe in a Bishop’s office, maybe from a bottle of pills; all of these things have been part of my healing path. Still, I have to remember that it isn’t those things that heal me. It is HIM. He is the author of my recovery.

A friend and I came to an understanding last week. She said, “I just want to make something clear……I don’t believe that.” I had just said something about God bringing us together. She continued, “As long as you are okay with that, I am okay that you believe differently.” At first I was a little surprised. Then as I thought about it, it made perfect sense. When a person has suffered and watched the people they love suffer, been manipulated and mistreated by those who call themselves Christians and even hold positions in the church; how can you believe in a loving God who would allow that to happen? Unbelief is the most natural and expected place for the brain to go. If you are in that place, I respect that. You don’t need to believe in Jesus Christ for him to bless you, guide you, and help you. His love is so great and so unstoppable that it cuts through your unbelief just like the sun cuts through the branches of a dense tree canopy. His light will find you. You can even put an umbrella over your head, but His love will bounce off the ground, walls, and windows to find you. I have faith that He is enough for both of us!

As I celebrate the resurrection of my Lord this week, I’ve been listening to the song, “I am the Resurrection and the Life” by Rob Gardner. This song captures for me, the spiritual ecstasy of the resurrection. He lives! He loves us! He has conquered this world and the evil in it. Through his Grace, I can do all things. Nothing is impossible to Him who is Mighty to Save!

One of the biggest hurdles people face when they have mental and emotional problems is finding safe people to talk to about it. We aren’t naturally gifted with the ability to communicate productively with those who suffer from mental and emotional disorders. After carefully observing and imitating the counselors I have worked with, I have picked up a few things. I’m not qualified to be a therapist, but I feel pretty confident that I can be a supportive friend.

I joined a Facebook group called “Mental Health Awareness.” It has been a very interesting experience to see people posting and responding to posts. A couple of days ago a girl posted about an abusive marriage. She was just getting to the point where she recognized a problem, but not confident enough in her own perceptions to be sure. She said, “Hey everyone. I’ve had to make a Facebook account to make this post, as I wanted to remain anonymous, as I’m unsure if I’m ‘overreacting’.” After that she described a typical abusive marriage, expressed her feelings of dependence on her narcissistic husband and inability to cope. My gut feeling was to validate her belief that her husband had Narcissistic Personality Disorder and tell her to leave the marriage immediately. Many of the comments said as much.

In mental health, I have learned to be a little more careful in my judgments and my first impressions. Some things that appear to be one thing, can be something else. I prayed to know what I should post. The spirit helped me see things about this person and her situation that I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t taken a little while to really see her and what her real needs were. I settled on this:

“Love you girl! Whatever you choose to do, you can always ask for help. You are worth it. No one can diagnose NPD without evaluating the person, but it sounds to me like he may very well have it. He has his own journey to get healthy. You have yours. Focus on you. It sounds like the relationship has really eroded your sense of self and confidence. This moment doesn’t define you. Joining this group is a great first step.”

I chose not to attack her husband. That was because she likely loves him very much. Even a narcissist is a child of God with many good and lovable parts to them. By labeling and judging the husband, you ironically turn the wife against you. She has an instinctual need to defend her husband against the unfair judgment of others who don’t know him. She might feel disloyal for talking about him and her problems. I chose instead to counsel her to focus on herself. That counsel will probably come across as reasonable to her. It won’t put her on the defensive. If she does follow the counsel, it will disrupt the codependent pattern that has developed in the relationship. If the narcissist chooses to change, then the marriage will improve. If he does what narcissists usually do and resists, the situation will get worse. That may seem like a bad thing, but sometimes things have to get worse before the victim of abuse will take the actions necessary to end the abuse by terminating the relationship.

I also praised her willingness to post on the Facebook page. For a victim of abuse, talking about the situation can be very difficult. Victims take great pains to hide the abuse, minimize it, and defend their abusers. The courage it took this woman to post was likely immense. Many of the replies were likely unhelpful because they said, “Leave him!” That is like telling someone who just ran a marathon to go climb a mountain. By telling the victim that I support whatever decision she decides to make is validating her ability to handle the situation, something her abuser has eroded. Then I told her that there is help available to her. Abusers take great pains to make a victim feel there is no help available, so that is key. The goal is to give the marathon runner a pat on the back, a cool drink, and a bench to sit on. You can talk about climbing mountains later.

After thinking on it for a day, I feel good about how I responded to her. I pray for her and then hope for the best. Another woman posted this:

“Losing my mind….
All in a weeks span I lost my place and my job.
I have completely hit rock bottom and am in a rut not just physically but mentally too…
Idk where to start I just want to crawl in a hole and cry and never come out
My depression is super bad right now ugh”

My first reaction was to want to fix it. I imagined how I would feel if I were homeless and jobless. I wanted to give her a place to live and a way to get back on her feet. I wanted to recommend counseling and therapy. As an empathetic person, I have to watch that tendency in myself. I can’t fix this woman’s problems. I don’t even completely understand them let alone know how to solve them. I chose to post this:

“That sounds like a scary and devastating place to be. When I hit rock bottom I found the courage to make changes to my life. I couldn’t have been so bold and taken such risks if I hadn’t gone to that dark place. You won’t feel this way forever. Don’t be afraid to reach out for support like you are with this post. You are not alone! Hugs!”

I tried to empathize with her feelings rather than try to equate my experience with hers. She may have trashed her apartment. She may have mouthed off to her boss. She may have completely caused her own predicament. That doesn’t change the fact that she feels how she feels and that its hard. Rather than try to tell her how things will work out for her, I instead shared my own personal experience. I told her she wouldn’t feel this way forever. When wandering in the dark tunnels of depression, the mind cannot see the end of the suffering. The truth is, it does get easier. Even if the problems don’t go away, the hurt comes and goes. The most important thing is to avoid isolating yourself. That’s why I counselled her not to be afraid to post and reach out for support. I assured her that she is not alone. That is key. In depression, you feel totally alone, like no one understands the pain you are in or cares to.

In reading these posts and thinking about the ways I try to help others, I am coming up with a few principles that might help others who are trying to support people with mental health issues.

1-Seek first to understand. Even if you think you know what this person’s problems are and how to fix them, you don’t. Take the time to really listen to what is being said. A person is an extremely complex being with a unique way of communicating and processing information. Try to get a sense of the unique way that the person in front of you sees the world.

2-Suspend judgment. Let’s say the person you are talking to keeps lying to you. Your first reaction might be to think, “This person is a dirty rotten liar! I’m done talking to them.” If you can, suspend judgment. Yes, this person lies, and that is good to be aware of. That doesn’t mean the person has no value or can’t be helped. Just make sure you don’t place too much weight on what they say or you might not get an accurate view of a situation.

3- Think before you respond. This is really hard for me especially in face to face interactions. My first reaction is usually not the best one. After I take a few moments to consider, I have a better sense of what I want to say and how to say it to get the result I am after. Often people say what makes them feel better. They make rash judgements and recommend drastic action, and then they are resentful when their dubious advice is unheeded. Often these people turn around and blame the victim. “If she just would have left that jerk she wouldn’t be so depressed! I told her! She deserves what happens now.” This can make a victim reluctant to confide in anyone in the future.

4- Be patient. Realize that changes in mental processes and systems take time and tremendous effort. Sometimes it will seem like no progress is being made at all, but never underestimate the power of a seed. Planting a seed can change a life. A changed life can impact generations.

5- Rely on the spirit. God knows what his children need. He wants to use you as an instrument to support them and help them grow and be happy. The spirit can help you discern what a person may not be able to explain, recognize when he or she is minimizing a behavior, or see the abusive patterns of a relationship that may not be evident right away.

I hope we can all become more aware of ways to support those who suffer from unseen wounds. They are worth our best efforts!

I felt so much stronger at church this week than I did last week. I felt my smile come to my face more quickly, and I have my voice back. I didn’t know if I would be able to sing again. Last week, I couldn’t sing. If I tried, I would cry. Today I sang out freely.

I got to talk to two sisters in the last two days whose stories inspired me. I can see the incredible faith that they both have that has helped lead them through their fierce battles. The Savior is the author of their salvation and they are in his hand.

I’ve been pondering a lot more on the ideas I wrote about in my last post. The ward I wanted and needed doesn’t exist right now. That doesn’t mean it will never exist. Right now I have retreated, like all good commanders know when to do. It is a strategic retreat; a change of strategy and an opportunity to regroup and rethink.

In my church history, we tried a social experiment. Long ago several church members tried to live what they called, “The United Order.” Everyone was supposed to share everything and they didn’t have any private property. It all fell apart. People were just too selfish and impatient for it to get started. Still, the idea of the United Order has remained in the Mormon psyche. In the Book of Mormon it says that after the Savior came and visited the people in America, that they were able to create a society where they practiced the United Order. There was peace and prosperity for four hundred years! Then it fell apart and they all murdered each other within a few decades.

When people try to live a law that’s higher and more demanding, it can be hard to get everyone on board long enough to reap the benefits. When something great does get started, it doesn’t take long for people to get prideful and forget God and then it falls apart pretty quickly. That’s just a part of living in a fallen world, I guess.

With my ward, I need to have patience and faith. Those two things will make all the difference. I was so vulnerable. I was so brave. I was so bold. It takes time to process that. They need time, but they also need to understand that I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to let them get comfortable thinking they have silenced me or driven me out. I am stronger and smarter than they think I am. And I love them more than they think I do. I can say I’m sorry, I can make nice, I can admit I’m wrong, I can stand up and tell the truth, I can get knocked down, and then get up and do it again. What I won’t do is give up.

I have this persistent vision of a haven where people can come to in this world of stress and confusion; a place where we can drink deeply of the Savior’s love and share it with one another. A place where people understand the principles of emotional health and they teach them and practice them. There is no reason why we can’t make that happen. It is only fear that keeps us from Zion.

Zion! Where the pure in heart dwell! Where hearts and minds are knit together into one powerful unit! Nothing is impossible when we are united. It is when we are divided that Satan can paralyze us. It is when we tug against one another and waste our energy in competition and pride that we seal the heavens shut against us. The Savior has so many blessings for us if we would just get out of our own way.

The real reason for the bee in my bonnet is that we are running out of time. People need the Savior! They are turning to Donald Trump they are so desperate for leadership and a sense of hope for the future. Our world is dangerously careening along a precipice. Jesus Christ is the only hope for our salvation. His message resonates within the human soul and unites all those who will humble themselves and own Him Lord.

I see my neighbors and friends out washing their boat, driving their Jeep, living their lives. I think, when the end comes, are they going to be safe? Is there enough faith and light in me that I can show them a path forward when everything is dark? When I take the Savior’s name upon me in sacrament meeting each week, am I living true to my covenant? When people see me, do they see Him? If not, what can I do differently? How can I be the Savior’s hands today to gather and serve His children?

The time for being a lazy disciple are over for me. I don’t know exactly where my Lord will have me serve, but I give my life to Him. All that I am and all that I will ever be belongs to my Lord. He knows my heart. He knows the strength of my conviction. I know that what I want is also what He wants. I just need to wait on Him right now to show me how to make it happen. If Peter could go from doubting and denying to testifying, healing, and dying a martyr, so can I. I can be the instrument he needs to bless the lives of my ward family. Persistence, courage, and love cannot be overcome; like a mighty river, they will find a way through, around, or over any obstacle.

You know you’ve made the right decision when you feel a weight off your chest! Seriously, I feel like I’ve lost twenty pounds off my shoulders since I made the blog private. I have lost five pounds since Mother’s Day, but that is anxiety/depression related. Maybe I should start a new fad diet…..the Anxiety Diet! Just set yourself up to be humiliated in a public place and three weeks later, you reach your ideal weight.

Warning for language….

Warning for crude humor……

Looks like fear dieting is already a thing. Humor aside, I am coming out of my latest emotional setback, thanks so much to the loving support that I have had from near and far. Looking through the email addresses of those who have followed my blog makes me so happy! I am so humbled to think that there are so many people who value what I have to say. For those who don’t, that’s okay. I can love them from a distance for the people they are and not despise them for who they aren’t.

There is a grieving process though. I am still mourning what might have happened if our ward had been more willing to embrace vulnerability. A couple of years ago the church was instituting some changes in Relief Society. The women were supposed to arrange their chairs into a circle so that everyone was facing each other. It was clearly to invite collaboration and input. I think it was supposed to feel more like a support group than a lesson. It reminded me of a group therapy session. That’s what I envision a functional, nurturing Relief Society being like.

“Hello, I’m Bridgette Burbank, and I’m a sinner.” Just like Alcoholics Anonymous. It fits right? Aren’t we all addicted to our own pet sins? Wouldn’t that be awesome if we could just get that vulnerable with a group of sisters? Then I talk about some of the stuff I did that week. “I played Blossom Blast for three hours while my kids lounged around in their pajamas watching gamers on You-Tube. I was afraid I would start yelling at them if I told them one more time to please do their chores. Sometimes parenting feels like a never ending marathon.”

Supportive responses would sound like, “You are doing such important work with your kids. It can be so discouraging and frustrating. Let’s plan some playdates this week to get you guys out of the house. What do your kids like to do?” Or maybe it could be, “Sometimes parents need a timeout too. Maybe playing that game was what you needed right then. I’ve found that drawing, crocheting, and journaling are really effective to help me when I’m feeling upset at my kids.”

Maybe another sister would say, “I spent hours shopping for the perfect Mother’s Day gift for my daughter. She has told me she doesn’t want a relationship with me anymore, but I wanted to try and reach out. I mailed it so it would make it in time, but I got it back with ‘return to sender’ on it. That hurt so bad! Sometimes I think Mother’s Day is the hardest day of the year.”

Supportive responses would be, “That is so painful! I can’t imagine how hard that would be to have that kind of reaction to your gift. Even though it feels like the gift didn’t do any good, I’m sure your effort to reach out showed her that you haven’t forgotten about her and you still love her. Your act of love mattered.” Or maybe, “Mother’s Day is one of those holidays like Christmas and Valentine’s Day that can either be heaven or hell. I’m so sorry you were treated that way.”

Maybe someone else would say, “My husband had surgery two weeks ago and I am so tired of trying to take care of him. When I was at the grocery store, I didn’t want to come home. Then I felt like a terrible person.”

Supportive responses would be, “It’s hard not to feel badly when you feel like you are falling short. Remember that you have been taking care of him for two whole weeks. Anyone would feel tired and overwhelmed. Maybe it’s time to ask a friend for help. There’s no shame in that. Everyone needs a break sometimes.” Or maybe, “When I was taking care of my son after a surgery, he got so grumpy from being cooped up. I decided to invite one of his friends over to play a board game with him. It made a big difference for him and for me. He wasn’t so grumpy, and it was easier to get some stuff done since he was distracted from his pain.”

When lessons become support sessions, when people open up with vulnerability, healing and love is possible, even when sins and problems are really big. Consider this scenario. A sister comes back to church for the first time in a long time. She has become addicted to pain killers after a surgery she had. No one knows how difficult her addiction has become to manage. She feels ashamed and doesn’t know what to do to get help. She’s touched by women who are willing to open up about their problems, so she decides to share. With tearful eyes, she tells her story of how she became entrapped in addiction.

Supportive responses would be, “We all have things we struggle with. That’s why we come here! No one here is going to judge you for your sins. The Savior’s grace is enough for all of God’s children. Your decision to come to church today was you answering God’s invitation to your healing path. We are here to help you on your healing path and give you the tools you need to get your freedom back.” Or maybe, “You are so brave for sharing your pain with us! Addiction to prescription drugs is a far more common problem than most people realize. It is easy to get caught in trap you can’t get out of. I had an Aunt who became addicted after her back surgery. She found an excellent rehab center that helped her get off the pills and out of pain too. I can give you the number for it if your interested.”

This kind of vulnerability invites us to share and learn from real experiences and make meaningful connections with the people in our church families. It is, to me, what my church has been trying to create in our Relief Societies. Unfortunately, shame, judgment, Mormon woman aggression, and other fear based responses to vulnerability shut down these pathways to connection. Without leadership and direct instruction to help people learn appropriate responses to the pain of others, we are stuck repeating old dysfunctional patterns that build walls between people. I talked to a friend yesterday and she told me that in talking to a family member about my experience on Mother’s Day, the woman said, “That is how old LDS is killing new LDS.”

I’ve thought a lot about that statement. The Savior taught about old and new bottles and how people don’t put new wine into old bottles because the bottles will break and the wine will spill. The irony is, without flexibility, the old bottles can never have the new wine. They are shut out from the blessings of the new gifts that God is offering. Unfortunately, when they do what they did to me, they also keep others from having it. When people see what happens to those who are genuine and vulnerable, they learn to close off and armor up. That’s unfortunate. Tragic even.

The good news is, seeds are being planted. I’ve talked to several women in the ward who have said that there are some good lessons in our Relief Society and that what happened on Mother’s Day was not typical. If that’s the case, I hope that we are making progress toward the ideal supportive environment I can be safe to share in. If we are able to create that kind of refuge, that kind of healing space, that kind of support, there is no limit to the miracles we would see.

I think probably the biggest impediment to vulnerability in church is that people feel the need to fix the problems of others. Just because someone revealed a problem to you, doesn’t mean you are required to fix it for them. The act of sharing is, in itself healing. To share a burden with others and have it met with understanding and love frees up the guilty conscience to righteous action. It is Christ’s love that people need most. If they feel that, they will ask for what they need when they are ready to make another step on their healing path. Maybe the woman addicted to pain killers isn’t ready to go to rehab. Maybe she has some other strategies she is going to try. Just knowing that she has a support group to fall back on when things go wrong is extremely helpful. We can have the faith that she and the Savior can work things out. We extend our assistance when it is asked for.

Another impediment to vulnerability is the need we have to blame someone. A person blamed is not a problem solved. Often it becomes a problem hidden. It isn’t our job to judge the people who reveal a burden. It isn’t our job to judge their parents, their spouse, their abuser, or their children. Its our job to love and support, listen and encourage. Withholding judgement is a vital piece of a supportive group. A supportive church family can take a lot of pressure off of our bishops and relief society presidents who are often burdened with the sins and struggles of members unable to ask other members for help because of the culture of judgment and shame that is allowed to fester.

The Savior says, “Oh Jerusalem, Jerusalem! How oft would I have gathered thee together as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, but ye would not.” How often does he try to give us more, and we settle for less! How often do we behave like crabs in a bucket. If you want crabs to stay trapped in a bucket, you have to have more than one. If you put one crab in a bucket, he will climb out. If you have two, one will always pull the other back into the bucket.

I’m climbing out of the bucket. I’m going out on my own. I have my own group of supportive people I can share my journey with. Once I am stronger and decide to go back into the fight, I will work to make my church a place where the Savior’s love is so thick it will feel like Houston in the summertime! Praise the Lord! He is Mighty to Save! He leads his children to peace and rest.