Winged Messengers

I found several black swallowtail caterpillars in my garden a few weeks ago. I raised them on rue until they were big and fat, then they made their chrysalises. The last three days they have been emerging. We had one on Sunday, one yesterday, and two today. We are waiting on one little chrysalis which will probably not last more than another day.

We released this sweet girl yesterday.
Wesley, my butterfly wisperer, got to hold her on his hand for a minute.
Pepper has been really good with the caterpillars and the butterflies. She doesn’t know what all the excitement is about, but she is always good for a celebration and a Popsicle.
Two black swallowtails, ready to fly away.

As I was getting my three year old ready to go to YMCA camp, I was rushing around the backyard when I saw a giant swallowtail. The black swallowtails are gorgeous and almost as big as your hand. The giant swallowtail makes them look small. They are as big as a bird. I drove to the YMCA musing on the significance of two black swallowtail butterflies AND the giant swallowtail. Could it be that God is/was sending me a message?

I was fortunate enough to get my phone out and take a few pictures before this gorgeous butterfly took off.
This butterfly’s wings don’t look as impressive in the picture. This one had a wingspan of about five inches.

As though insect messengers were not enough, I turned onto my street on my way home, and there was a striking red Cardinal under my rose bush! I parked my car and went to investigate. The bird flew away, but I thought I saw another bird. Curious, I walked around the corner of my house and there were TWO Cardinals! A male and a female. In total, I had three cardinals visit my garden at the same time. I don’t even have any bird feeders to attract them!

The male and female sat side by side on my fence. It was a powerful sight!

This experience today reminded me of my first counselling session after I left the Sundance mental hospital. It was October 2012. I was reeling from the trauma I had experienced there, but also treasuring the sacred and beautiful bonds I had made with the other patients. It had taken all the courage I possessed to trust another counselor with my story. As I sat there trying to explain the unique twists and turns of my depression journey, she kept looking out the window behind me. She said, “There is a dove that has just landed on the fence outside. Doves are a symbol of hope and divine intervention.” That she would notice such a coincidence was not surprising to me. Her entire aura and her home where we were meeting spoke of a hippy, new-age, eclectic, artistic personality. I did find it unusual that she kept commenting on the birds.

After a few minutes, she said, “There’s another dove! It’s landed next to the first.” In total, I think there were four doves that came to her backyard that day during that first session. It never happened again that I know of. If it did, she didn’t mention it and I think she would have.

These are mourning doves. I’m not sure what kind of doves my counselor saw that day.

I have seen God’s hand working in my recovery. Small, quiet, little things that would be easily missed if I weren’t deliberately taking the time to see them and express gratitude. He is mindful of me and my pain. He understands it when no one else does. Every day I face the challenges, beat back the depression, and press forward.

I am growing. There is no stopping it now. It is as though I am a mighty oak sprouting from a sidewalk crack. The cement cannot encase me any longer. It is strong and exerts tremendous pressure, but I am getting stronger than the pressure. I can be patient. It is inevitable. The concrete will break. It must retreat because I must grow.

I won’t mourn the sidewalk. It isn’t bad, it’s just in the wrong place. For so long I’ve thought that it was I that was in the wrong place. Now I see that it was for his purposes that I sprouted where I did and faced the opposition I have faced.

What I have learned most this week on a deeper level than ever before, is that religious dogmatism and spirituality exist in opposition. Dogma is the human mind’s way of coping with God without spirituality. It is the lazy path. Dogma says, “I don’t have to know God personally, I can just listen to what someone else says about him, do what they say, and then I’ll be saved.” When you push dogma aside and approach the throne of God yourself, what will happen? Nothing? That would be devastating, but it gets worse. What if he did tell you something? What if he told you to leave your parents and your home, journey off into the wilderness, and spend a nomadic life searching for him? He said that to Abraham. What if he told you that everything you’d been taught was wrong? What if he told you to sell everything you have and follow Him? At different times in the scriptures God has said those very things to various people. Some obeyed like Peter and Paul. Some rebelled like Jonah and then repented afterward. Some walked away sorrowing, like the rich young man. There have been so many people who have lived on the Earth that have never asked God; never sought that intimate connection with him. No wonder! The dogmatic way is easier. So predictable. So tame and popular with everyone. You can even make money at it!

I have decided to take a different path. I want to know God myself. I want my questions answered, not just by a conference talk or even an ancient record of scripture. I want direct knowledge and understanding. I want spiritual gifts. I want things of value that the world doesn’t see and can’t understand, and won’t value. I don’t want position or honors of men or money, I want to please my God. In doing this, I will naturally have conflict with those who walk a more dogmatic path. That’s okay. I’m coming to expect that opposition and understand it better.

Along with resistance, I am also finding support. Support can come from unexpected places like the cardinals and the butterflies. I’ve found myself overwhelmed by gratitude when I get human angels who send me a card, give me a hug, or shoot me a message. The depression is still hard, and I still have burdens I carry, but I’m getting so much stronger.

I’m filled with gratitude today for the help my Savior has sent me from heavenly messages spoken and unspoken, winged and without wings. He lives! He loves us! He has not left us to live in this fallen world alone and without comfort. May His blessings and peace find you as well.

Zion

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.

Vulnerability; the New Bottle

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.

A New Beginning

This will probably be the last post I will share on Facebook. I have made a few changes to the look of the blog, and I’ve upgraded it, so there are no more annoying ads. I also have a new blog address that is easier to type in and remember. I will also be making my blog private. This was a difficult decision to make.

Up until this point, I have felt a need to share my journey with all of my Facebook friends, and anyone else. I have hoped that many people who don’t understand mental health might be able to develop empathy from witnessing my journey vicariously. I wanted God to freely guide souls to my blog that could benefit from what I have to say. Hopefully that has been the case for some people. I haven’t wanted to restrict my words because I have wanted to think that everyone could benefit from my experiences. Unfortunately, since the Mother’s Day incident at church, I have felt very uncomfortable. I bore my testimony yesterday in church, like I usually do, but it was much harder. It took every ounce of courage I could muster. As I spoke at the pulpit, I didn’t feel the love and support I used to feel. I cried most of the day yesterday because I feel so rejected by my ward family. I met with my Bishop. He tried to help me feel better, but I am still in a lot of pain.

As many people have learned in recovery, just because you love someone doesn’t mean they can be trusted to be in the intimate parts of your life. Just because they are family members, or in my case, ward family members, doesn’t mean they deserve access to your vulnerable places. It is time for me to take care of myself and push those people away who haven’t earned the right to witness my recovery.

Some people enjoy conflict and debate on their blogs. Some people make money on their blogs and want to drive traffic. I’ve done some introspection to decide what this blog is for. It is for me. No one else. I have no desire to make money. My writing is one of my creative outlets. It is a way for me to connect with supportive friends. It is also a way to practice assertive communication, self-awareness, emotional processing, and other mental wellness skills. I think those things would be better accomplished with a private blog.

If you are interested in reading my blog, please sign up as a follower. There should be a button on the bottom of this page that will allow you to sign up. If you have any trouble. Private message me and I would be happy to help you.

Growing into Charity

Sometimes growth comes in spurts. There are peaks and valleys. Sometimes before I have a period of great growth and insight, it is preceded by profound grief and confusion.

Yesterday I felt drained after I wrote my post about Eminem and my young friend at Sundance. My empathy was exhausted from the suffering my soul sensed in these two troubled young men. Their anger, their suffering, and their hostility overwhelmed my coping mechanisms and I had depressive symptoms for the rest of the day.

I talked to Ben last night about what I was feeling and why. It hard to have empathy for those who suffer. I can’t do it without sufficient self care and spiritual connection to the Savior. Yesterday started out great, but I didn’t eat anything, I exhausted myself emotionally, my ADHD kiddos did not take their medicine, and I found myself irritable and overwhelmed.

In that time of weakness, I came across an intriguing website of an organization called “Room to Thrive.” It is designed to help people recover from religiously induced spiritual trauma. Almost everything this website described, I have personally experienced in my church. For an hour or so I considered whether or not this process of “deconversion” would be beneficial for me. I think in some ways, I am “deconverting,” but I prefer to think of it as a molting or a stripping down of my faith rather than a dismantling of it.

I have my core faith which is comprised of my own personal spiritual experiences with God. I have read my sacred book, The Book of Mormon. I have received a witness from the spirit that burned in my heart, opened my mind, and gave me spiritual vision that I didn’t have before. I have read the New Testament and had spiritual images and insights come to my mind about my Master and Savior. These are core parts of me that I could no more deny or disavow than I could cut out my heart from my body.

On the other hand, there are perceptions, interpretations, traditions, and customs that are not a part of that core spiritual identity. All those things are like branches on a tree. If they are serving the health of my tree, I will keep them. If they are redundant, unnecessary, or diseased, I remove them. My life right now is in a state of pruning or molting.

As I cast off the old concepts and traditions I have outgrown, I allow my core spiritual traits and identity to shine brighter. I become the daughter of God that my Savior intended me to be.

This summer I have been encouraging my boys to incorporate spiritual study into their daily routine. One of my boys has really taken this to heart. One of the chapters of study in Come Follow Me this week is Matthew 24, or more particularly the Joseph Smith translation of that chapter. As we read the chapter together we talked about the signs of the second coming. One verse stuck out in my mind above the others. It is verse 30.

30 And again, because iniquity shall abound, the love of men shall wax cold; but he that shall not be overcome, the same shall be saved.

The reason this verse seemed to jump off the page to me was because of the experience I had yesterday with my empathy and the emotionally draining aftermath. It occurred to me that as the second coming approaches, and our tribulations increase, it will be a normal and natural thing to harden the heart, to withdraw empathy, to simply close our eyes to the suffering of those around us for emotional survival. But this verse says that we must learn to overcome that tendency if we are to be saved.

There is so much suffering at our Southern border right now. There are many desperate children and families seeking asylum and a better life. The resources of the border facilities are being strained beyond capacity. It is a humanitarian crisis. There are also millions of refugees fleeing terrible conditions in Syria. At first, the plight of these desperate people, the images of dead children, or children in cages with foil blankets, or children taken away from their parents stunned me and brought forth my empathy and compassion. I was outraged at those responsible for the circumstances and willing to assist in any way I could to make it right.

As time goes by, I find my heart getting harder. There seems to be little I can do for those who are suffering. I find myself turning away from the stories and images that remind me of my impotence. In this way, I harden my heart.

Likewise, as I see my representatives compromise their principles in service to Donald Trump, I start to feel cynical. I begin to think that my letters and emails will do no good. I harden my hearts toward my elected leadership assuming that they are not capable of standing against corruption.

Likewise, with my church leadership, I feel betrayed and angry. I don’t want to reach out to them or trust that the spirit of the Lord can help us work through our problems. I want to withdraw, to protect myself, and to assume the worst about their character and motivations.

Again the words of my Master come to me. “Because iniquity shall abound,” yes we are in a time of iniquity. Integrity, honesty, fidelity, and kindness are vanishing virtues. Tyrants like Assad, Trump, Putin, and Kim Jong Un lust after power and persecute their own people. “The love of men shall wax cold,” even Christians are showing shocking levels of hard heartedness. On the left, there is a lack of compassion for the unborn. On the right, there is lack of compassion for the refugee. The one tribe points out the hypocrisy of the other, but neither sees it within their own. And then there is the key point, “he that shall not be overcome, shall be saved.” If I can keep my ability to love, to forgive, to reach out, to show empathy, to cultivate compassion, I will be saved.

I’m not going to do it perfectly at first. Like yesterday, I was overwhelmed. Still, I can learn from my failure. I have always known that the only way I can reach my potential spiritually and compassionately is if I can tap into His living water. It is the only way that I can stand the pain of true empathy. It hurts to love people. We are fallen. We suffer and we cause suffering. Connecting yourself emotionally with other people hurts.

And yet, the Savior did not shrink from this. He took the bitter cup. He could handle the pain of loving all of us and suffering with all of us. He shows us the way. He commands us to “Love one another as I have loved you.” He tells us to mourn with those that mourn and comfort those who stand in need of comfort; to bare one another’s burdens; to have charity. This crowning virtue of the true disciple of Christ is painful. To extend compassion and love to every one of God’s children is the most vulnerable thing you can do. And yet, that is what He did.

And so He said, “By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, that ye have love one to another.” This charity is the one defining characteristic of discipleship. If we don’t have it, we aren’t his disciples. We are, as Paul described, as sounding brass.

Charity for all seems to stand in opposition to current mental health advice. It is advised by counselors to have circles in your life where you put people. Your inner circle is small and that is where you keep people that you know you can be safe with. You can share your innermost thoughts and feelings with these people. As the circles extend from the center like rings in a tree stump, the people have less access to your trust. This protects the emotional core of an individual from those who have not earned the privilege of your trust.

The concept of vulnerability seems to contradict the trust circle model. As we become more secure in our identity, we are more willing to show vulnerability, even in unsafe places. We can reveal our true selves to those who have not earned the trust to appreciate who we are. We are able to overcome their judgement and shaming because we understand them and have compassion and forgiveness in our hearts. The Savior exemplified this as he was crucified. He understood the Roman soldiers who crucified him. He had compassion on them even as they tortured and killed him.

I imagine the Savior’s inner circle. Who is in it? He didn’t really need support or validation from anyone because he had it perfectly within himself. Instead his love and compassion radiated from himself and touched everyone within his influence. In this way, the circles were obliterated by His love.

People who have managed to live lives of extraordinary compassion like Mother Theresa, have managed to tap into Christ’s capacity for love. Mother Theresa herself said, “I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across waters to create many ripples.”

And so I work to create ripples. Perhaps my words will resonate with others who will dare to love. Perhaps my circles will become ripples that will change the world for the better. Faith, hope, and charity can work miracles. I know that as I strengthen my connection with my Lord and Savior, that my ability to extend trust and compassion to others will increase. I know that through His love, he has shown me the path to my own salvation. I love Him with all my heart and I hope that someday I will meet him and He will say, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.” Blessed be His name!

Eminem and Addicts

I read an article about Eminem online. I never liked him before today. I guess I judged him because of his foul language and some of the stuff in the headlines about him many years ago. Like so many things about my past self, I am starting to question my old judgement, look closer at others that I have dismissed in the past.

I will never be a regular listener of Eminem’s music. That’s okay. But I can see him, and I can see those who find solace and support in his words. He released an album called “Recovery” after battling with a severe addiction to various pills. I listened to the song, “Not Afraid.” I made a conscious effort to ignore the profanity (warning, it’s explicit) and focus instead on the message of the song. By the end, I was able to see a man, very rough around the edges, determined to improve his life for this children; to become his best self.

I can understand why, for many people, this song would feed their spirit and give them courage to fight their own addictions. It is inspiring to me. Ideally, the addict would be able to come to church and get that support from people they know and love who could lead them to the Savior and their healing path. Unfortunately, for obvious reasons, they don’t feel comfortable coming. Look at Eminem in this video. Imagine him walking in and sitting on your row in sacrament meeting. Imagine him getting up in fast and testimony meeting and saying the things he says in this video. And yet, for an addict, Eminem’s rough message of hope and redemption and support is just what many of our members who struggle with these issues need to hear and don’t hear at church. “I’ll walk this path with you, come take my hand, you’re not alone,” he says. The foul language and angry tone are messy and ugly, but so is addiction and the damage it causes to individuals and families. His expression of that ugly through foul language is cathartic for him and for others who struggle including me. It is paradoxical. Through expressing the ugly, we release it and it ceases to control us.

When I was admitted to the Sundance Mental Inpatient facility six years ago, I had an experience with a young man. He was barely twenty or so. I was in my mid thirties. We were in group therapy and he shared his story. He had been addicted to various drugs since he was in gradeschool. He went to the doctor because he was having some health problems. He was told that if he didn’t make drastic changes to his lifestyle that he would die. His liver, heart, and kidneys were in terrible shape. He was just a kid, but his organs were like an old man. He cried as he revealed the desperation he felt. He wanted to live. He said his recovery wasn’t even a choice because if he didn’t overcome his addiction he would die. My heart went out to this boy.

I wanted to connect with him and some of the other group members who had shown some vulnerability. I told about my story of my perfectionism and how my best efforts were never enough even though I got good grades and graduated from college. I was trying to communicate that in my own way, I was as desperate as this young man to escape the demons that brought me to that hospital. Unfortunately, he judged me.

With hatred in his eyes he said, “I don’t know why we have to have these classes with the “depression people.” I still don’t know exactly how he saw me or why exactly he was so hostile, but I was confused and desperate to clarify myself. I apologized for talking about my good grades. I said, I don’t think I’m any better than anyone in this room. I have my demons and you have yours. The therapist tried to salvage the situation. She explained that the underlying reasons people become addicted and stay addicted to substances is because they are often trying to cope with emotional problems. That the “addiction people,” and the “depression people,” are really the same. I tried to talk to this boy at different times, but he actively avoided me. At times I saw him talking to another “addiction person” and glaring at me menacingly. Everyone else at the center loved me. I loved them right back. I listened to their stories and I told them about the Savior and his healing power. I found myself wishing that church felt more like that hospital. It was truly a healing place.

I count myself fortunate that I haven’t become ensnared with substance addiction. I have my coping strategies that are unhealthy and harmful, but none that have destroyed my mind or body for which I am grateful. The Word of Wisdom, which is a chapter in our book of scripture that was written by the Prophet Joseph Smith, teaches about harmful addictive substances and some basic principles for healthy living. Because of this chapter in the Doctrine and Covenants and our willingness to live it, me, my parents, my siblings, and my grandparents have all avoided addictions to drugs and alcohol in spite of serious emotional trauma in their lives that easily could have led to it.

For those who have not been so fortunate, I reach out to you. We are not so different. I don’t completely understand the challenges you face. I won’t assume that I know what you are going through, or dish out a whole bunch of advice. I just want you to know that not everyone like me is judging you. You aren’t alone in your struggles. I’ve had a couple of friends who have gone through rehab and 12 step programs. I celebrate with them in their successes. I want them to know that even if they don’t trust me to confide in me when they relapse, that I am there for them at those times too.

I’ve been studying Carl Jung for a while. He was actually instrumental in founding Alcoholics Anonymous. He worked with many addicts, but found that there was little he could do for them. He met with a man named William Wilson about his severe alcohol addiction. He basically told him that his ailment was spiritual and that the only healing path for him was going to take the shape of a religious conversion. He and his drinking buddy who was in the process of undergoing such a religious conversion to treat his own alcoholism, founded Alcoholics Anonymous. Their twelve step program is designed to guide alcoholics on a spiritual recovery journey. They credit the insights of Carl Jung as a major influence on their program. It is difficult to fathom the good that AA has done for millions of addicts and their families around the world.

“His craving for alcohol was the equivalent of … the spiritual thirst of our being for wholeness, expressed … as the union with God……….the evil principle prevailing in this world leads the unrecognized spiritual need into perdition, if it is not counteracted by a real religious insight (involving a personal and meaningful relationship with God)……
Alcohol in Latin is “spiritus” and you use the same word for the highest religious experience as well as for the most depraving poison. The helpful formula therefore is: spiritus contra spiritum.” (Fight spirit with spirit)

Carl Jung

I have a dream of a day when people can speak openly in church about their struggles with addiction or the addictions of a loved one; that as Christians, we can suspend judgement, mourn with those that mourn, and help addicts and their families bare these crushing burdens. Families are warped and disfigured by addictions that are hidden. When addictions are seen and appropriate support given, healing is inevitable. When addictions are hidden and support withheld, the addiction cycle will continue to poison families for generations. I sense, as Jung did, that some of our most spiritually gifted people are chained by addictions; that if they were set free, we would see His power greatly magnified in them.

I send a prayer up for my young friend at Sundance. His hatred and hostility were born of his pain. I hope his rehab was successful. I hope that whatever his healing path looks like, that it leads to the Savior. I know that the Savior understands as I never will, the suffering that he has experienced in his life. I know that the Savior knows how to help him to find peace and happiness and a life he can be proud of. Blessed be the name of Him who is Mighty to Save!!

Back in the Saddle

I walked into sacrament meeting today. Fortunately we were actually a few minutes early, so we didn’t have to do the walk of shame.  That’s always nice.  I talked to a few supportive friends and said hi awkwardly to a few others.

I knew it would be hard to sit near the front and endure the stares I imagined boring into the back of my head. It wasn’t too bad.  I had friends on the row behind and friends on the row in front. The talks were amazing. Amazing. Just what I needed to hear.

I kept feeling the depression welling up inside me, but the spirit in the meeting helped me to discern the underlying messages seeping up inside me from the pit of hell.

“You call yourself the handmaid of the Lord. What right do you have to hear from God? What makes you think you are worthy to speak for him? Look around you at the women who despise you. They have important callings. They are responsible and hard working. You judge and condemn them and you could never do what they do. You lift yourself up in pride rather than humble yourself and learn from them. You don’t say you’re sorry for causing all these problems. You think you have depression. You are weak and unworthy and want to make excuses for yourself and get attention. Other women carry their burdens without complaint. You should have gratitude and humility and instead you lift yourself up in pride.”

Writing these things down helps me to understand how Satan and his depression messages combined with the well meaning messages of friends and family that unfortunately amplify Satan’s messages keep me from feeling worthy, lovable, and at peace with myself.  Satan fuels my self-loathing, lies to me about my motivations and my character, and fills my heart with despair.

When I come before my Savior in humility, he has very different messages for me.  He has nothing but love, support, and encouragement. He knows that my heart is full of love even for those who have hurt me. The only way I have found the strength to forgive and extend love is because of the Savior’s grace that he gives so abundantly to me. How can I withhold His grace when he has offered it to me so freely?  The joy and peace that my Savior offers to me contrasts greatly with the shame and despair of Satan’s messages.

Perhaps the most cutting message Satan has for me is that my depression is all made up.  Everyone has sadness.  Everyone has hard times.  There are many who struggle with depression for situations of severe abuse that make my situation seem easy.  Still, I am not so cruel as to judge myself so harshly and compare myself to others whose lives and circumstances are impossible for me to judge accurately.  I am a fair person and I will not condemn myself for the very real and difficult condition I suffer with.  I am a better friend to myself and a better representative of my Savior than that.  He loves me and expects me to treat myself with love and respect, just as I would my neighbor.  He commands me to love my neighbor as myself and vice versa.  The more compassion and understanding I give to myself, the more I have to give to others.

My Savior gives me strength and courage.  He speaks peace to the raging storm of my mind.  He assures me of my value to Him and importance of the work I do with my children and my husband; work that is undervalued and often misunderstood.  He sees the effort and love I put into my primary lessons.  He knows my heart and I am enough for him.  

He also tells me to speak out against the hypocrisy and the hardening of hearts that has been creeping over the members of my faith. I see trends that are causing division and strife in our communities.  It is partly due to political forces that are increasingly uncivil and full of pride.  It is partly due to social media which can amplify the cliquishness and image cultivation that fuels unrest among members.  There have been  many times of tearful self-reflection in which I have asked my Lord if I am contributing to the problem, or if my efforts are doing any good at all.  Still, I come back to my blog in hopes that I can with my words, touch some hearts and bring us all closer to Him who is Mighty to Save you and me.

I am no better than anyone else. In fact, I might be a lot worse. Why do I feel compelled to speak about making our churches and communities more compassionate, more open, and more safe for those who seek the Savior? Why has God asked me to speak? I can only think that it is because I am willing to speak. Why am I the Handmaid of the Lord? Because I decided I wanted to be. God doesn’t take the worthy as his servants. He takes the willing.

As I have built up my reservoir of Christ’s love, I have felt guilty at times for the choices I have made in the past. I have played the Pharisee in the stories of some other’s lives. I like to think I am better than I was, but the knowledge that my choices may have hurt others and driven them from the Savior has weighed on me. I had the blessing of being able to ask forgiveness this week of two girls that I was unkind to in school growing up. I judged them and considered them to be of little value. In fact, they have been very supportive of me in my recovery from depression which is the sign of the truest friend; one who loves you even when you feel unlovable. When you have little to nothing to give, those that still see value in you are worth more than a million of the other kind of fair weather friends that seem so important when times are good. They forgave me so quickly and with so little thought. They dismissed my lack of love and kindness as childishness. How compassionate! How much better I feel because of their mercy on me! How much easier it is for me to forgive the slights of others when I think of their examples.

I’m glad I went to church today. I’m grateful that I was able to partake of the sacrament and teach my primary class. I’m grateful for the talks that were given and the spirit that was there. I have hope that someday me and my message of love, mercy, and acceptance will not be so controversial; that God will soften the hearts of those who disagree with it or find fault with the imperfect way in which I deliver it. I also pray that God will continue to guide me in my recovery, that my fears will give way to faith and confidence. Happy Sabbath to all of my readers! May God’s spirit be poured out upon you in abundance.

Saving Dogs and Human Souls

I’ve had a major increase in my depressive symptoms since the incident at church and the aftermath. This is the last day of school for my kids and this week has been crazy. Ben is out of town, so that makes it extra difficult. Next week I will have the kids all day every day which will challenge my ability to cope for sure. Still, I am stronger than the depression and each day I come back to my Savior for comfort and healing. His power is real.

As I’ve studied my Lord’s life and teachings, I’ve had questions come into my mind. He was around 30 when he began his ministry. What was he doing before that? I’ve heard that his father was a carpenter. It would make sense that he would have been one also. But everything about Him tells me that he had extensive experience healing, leading, and guiding living things. His insights were too keen, his metaphors too on point for him to have been working with dead wood and stone.

I suspect that, whether as a hobby or a career, Jesus Christ cared for animals, most likely a flock of sheep. He developed his skills as a leader and a nurturer for his sheep. He healed them, loved them, protected them, and then His father told him to go and do the same with the children of men. That makes sense to me. God sent us the animals to teach us how to love and care for one another.

I’ve looked at Pepper sometimes and thought, “She must see me as a God.” Compared to her, I am so powerful! She doesn’t understand how I can open a box in the kitchen, make cold air come out, and then present her with leftover steak. Her needs are simple and direct, and I’m able to meet them and she loves me dearly for that. People are more complicated. We learn to hide our needs, conceal our deficiencies, and make nurturing us very complicated.

Dogs are especially interesting in human culture. We created the domesticated dog for our own purposes, but like all things we create, it is fallen. We created a species, but we often do not take responsibility for their quality of life as we should. Ben told me stories about his mission in Brazil. He said that the streets of the cities are full of mangey curr dogs that carry various diseases and eat garbage. They are very dangerous and they smell terrible. The sight of them engenders the greatest feelings of revulsion. A healthy dog that is loved and cared for can be a source of great joy. The opposite is a disease ridden curr, the evidence of our neglect of creatures we have created and the devastating effects inspire loathing, fear, and sometimes guilt. We turn our faces away from such creatures. The more cruel and sadistic members of human society prey upon these animals. They capture them. They torture and maim them. These acts bare witness of the depravity of the fallen human condition.

I came across, quite by accident, a YouTube Channel of Animal Aid, a group based in India. Ben has been to India several times. It is, from what I have heard, an incredibly fascinating place. Like many developing countries in warm climates, they have serious problems with pest animals. Animal Aid is a charity that works specifically to rescue dogs, cows, cats, and other animals that become injured or diseased. They post the plight of these animals and the ways the organization works to help them on their YouTube channel.

My most tender hearted son watches these movies with me. Sometimes he turns away from the more grotesque injuries. I tell him, “It’s okay. The injuries are only horrifying if you don’t think they can be healed.” We watch limbs be amputated, maggots be pulled out of wounds, terrible cases of mange and starvation, and we wait on the resolution. We know that Animal Aid and their compassionate efforts will give hope to these hopeless and pitiful creatures. By the end of the videos, we are laughing and celebrating the recovery of these precious animals who have been given names and a new life. Wesley announced, “I want to OWN that company!” It isn’t surprising to me that this beautiful child wants to dedicate his career to helping suffering creatures. I only hope that I can nurture that desire in him. If like my Savior, Wesley becomes a healer, I would not be more proud.

I can’t help but see the serendipity that brought these videos into my life. They symbolize to my mind with great power, the transformative, restorative power of the atonement of Jesus Christ. He does not turn away from our disease ridden, maimed, fallen reality. He approaches us in Love, knowing that no matter how grotesque our injuries, that his Grace is enough. He can heal it. If we allow his treatment, we can at last be the creations we were designed to be, happy, loving, giving, and able to receive of love. The transformations of people who turn their lives over to the Savior can be as dramatic as the videos of these animals.

Jumper is so dramatically different at the end of the video. Compassion and treatment transformed him to look and act like the animal God created him to be. The Savior can likewise change us, redeem us, and bring out our inner beauty and potential.

I think of Mange, that scourge of the street dog, of the creeping hardening of my heart against others; the grudges I am tempted to keep, the cynicism that deadens my spiritual and emotional power. The scaly scabs of the mange warn others to stay away, that I am in pain, and I don’t want to be touched. I choose to suffer alone and avoid the pain of contact with others.

The Savior puts his lotion on me. He softens the scales of my protective armor, reveals my vulnerability, and gently gets me used to feeling loving contact with others and my fear, loneliness, and pain are replaced with love and joy.

The videos of the animals encased in tar are wonderful metaphors for those who suffer from addiction. Trapped by its sticky power, their free will is crippled. Without help they will surely die from it’s terrible pull. It takes patience and hard work to remove the stains of addiction from its victims. It takes an understanding of the substance that binds and the methods best incorporated for success.

The videos of injured animals are perhaps the most heart breaking. Sometimes the injury is not so severe, but neglected it becomes infested with maggots and bacteria which feed on the flesh and necrotize the tissue. These injuries go on to poison the animal’s life making it smell bad and ruining what otherwise would be a gentle and pleasant temperament. This causes isolation in addition to pain and misery. This is a metaphor for the victims of abuse. Many abuse victims receive unhelpful advice about the consequences of the abuse. They are told that they must ignore the underlying injury and focus on getting over it. Rather than deferring to those who truly understand abuse injuries and the healing process, they often want to focus on fixing the outward signs of the abuse. True healing from abuse requires cleaning and sterilizing the wound which is painful and can make things worse before they get better. Often the victim is left with scars that will never go away, but happiness and peace are possible after traumatic abuse injuries. The Master leads those who suffer from these kinds of injuries to their healing path if they will put their trust in Him. He has done this for me.

This video has such powerful symbolism. He is found hiding in the temple. He is removed from the temple for healing. Sometimes our abuse injuries cannot be healed at the temple. We must go with those that are trained. This is not a lack of faith, just an understanding that God’s healing power is not limited by time and space.

I think of the Savior and how he approached people that others turned away from. He listened to them. He loved them. He healed them physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I think of how I drive past the prison in Mansfield. I’m afraid. I turn away from those people. Strip clubs are the same. The homeless are the same. My Master was not afraid of sin or its victims. He was the Master of sin. His perfect love and penetrating perception gave him the ability to heal even the worst of sinners. He could and would reach out to those whose physical, emotional, and spiritual injuries were severe. He healed them. I take his name upon me every week as I partake of the sacrament. He is willing to give his love and insights to me today, that I might be his hands in healing those around me who suffer. I can be like Him. I can refuse to turn away. I can tune in to His healing grace and be an instrument in his hands to help his lost sheep.

I take heart in people like those at Animal Aid. They are not wealthy. They likely do not have much political power. Even their medical methods and facilities are not world-class. Far from it! They do what they can with what they have. The cynical would say that their efforts make little difference to the plight of street animals; that systemic processes like sterilization and euthanization are more effective at relieving animal suffering. (Animal Aid does do spaying and neutering). I find that their work means so much more than anything that could be measured or put in a law. They show us the way to push away our revulsion at pain and suffering, to confront the causes of the pain, and to give creatures a second chance at life. Their redemption stories give me faith and courage. I’m even going to donate some of my birthday money to them. I don’t have much, but I know that my Lord can magnify my efforts to bless the lives of those who lift and inspire me. Someday, maybe I will be able to travel to Rajasthan and meet these heroes and tell them how much they have inspired me and my boys to show more compassion.

As I continuously come unto my Savior, I have doubts about myself. My inner voice says, “Your blog is all wrong. Your Facebook is all wrong. Your parenting is all wrong. You’re all wrong!” I say to Him, “Show me my sin, that I may repent.” Its hard. I feel a tinge of doubt. What if he tells me I’m all wrong? His peace comes over me. “Fear not and be of good courage, for you shall carry my words to many. My sheep hear my voice. I will make of you my instrument. Your weaknesses are swallowed up in me, for I am Mighty to Save.”

I am grateful to my Savior for believing in me and my voice, even though I know I have so many flaws. He calls upon the weak and simple of this world to testify of Him and his matchless power. I raise my voice in praise to Him. He is my Redeemer! He is the balm that I rely on in my time of trial. I love him. I testify of Him. He is Mighty to Save!

Miracles

I’ve had a really hard time this week with worrying about what other people think of me. It’s hard when you live your whole life trying to please everyone, to make the kind of shift I am trying to make. There is only one person I have the power to control, and that is me. There is only one person whose opinion of me matters, and that is my Savior. I know that, but teaching my brain to think differently takes time.

Last night I had a session with my counselor. She is pretty amazing. She was very sympathetic and encouraging, which I always need. She had a lot of good questions for me about why the opinions of the Relief Society sisters in my ward are so important to me. My whole life I have allowed them to shape my behavior. I’ve felt driven to be the person they think I should be. She encouraged me to work on developing a support network outside of the Relief Society. She suggested a hobby or something. I need to be with people who can give me permission to be myself, color outside the lines, and be okay with messy.

The thought of reaching out to people outside my faith and trying to find acceptance and love is daunting to say the least. Still, sometimes the Lord’s path leads me out of my comfort zone. Maybe its time to venture a little and cast my net on the other side of the ship like Peter did.

I fell asleep early last night, but then awoke upset at about 3:30. I couldn’t go back to sleep and ended up waking Ben. He talked to me for a while, and gave me a blessing. In the blessing he encouraged me to seek for the Savior in the scriptures and to find his peace. I opened my phone to the Come Follow Me manual and I read the lesson.

Reading scriptures and conference talks can be tricky when I’m struggling with depressive symptoms. It’s like my brain is on high alert for any judgement from anyone. I even find it when it isn’t there. It’s kind of like after you watch a scary movie. Every shadow hides danger, every noise indicates a threat, every innocent looking person is a serial killer. It isn’t reality, but telling your brain that doesn’t change much.

Part of the reason I have a hard time when people tell me to read my scriptures when I’m depressed is that they don’t understand that sometimes the scriptures help, and sometimes they hurt. Same with going to church. The depressed mind takes well intentioned correction like a knife to the heart. Even the most gentle reproof can be excruciating when you feel you are at the emotional breaking point.

Anyway, I was anxious to read the lesson for fear it would send me over the edge, but on the contrary, it was just what I needed. It helped me to clear my mind and see the hand of the Lord in my suffering.

Here’s Pepper in the exam room. Love her to bits!

Saturday night Pepper came down with a bad case of diarrhea. Overnight she started vomiting as well. Her poop looked like piles of melted chocolate all over her pen mixed with what might have been vomit. It was awful. I was planning to go to church. Devin was giving a talk and I wanted to be there, but Pepper wasn’t getting any better. She was clearly miserable, so I took her to the Animal Emergency Room. I had a black dress on for church, and I put a paper towel on her bottom to try and keep the filth off of me. It didn’t help much.

After tests and X-rays, we still weren’t sure what the problem was. They prescribed her a bunch of medications and gave us some special food to give her. I brought her home with the understanding that I was risking her life. Taking the more economical and conservative treatment path might result in her death by bowel perforation. The more aggressive treatments and tests would cost up to $2,000. I took that decision onto myself and decided to bring her home.

As I sat with her on my lap, so weak and helpless, I thought of how badly I would feel if she did die. She reminds me of the sheep in “Mary had a Little Lamb.” She follows me around everywhere. She loves me so much. She has helped me learn what the Savior’s metaphors about shepherds and sheep mean. She hears my voice and she follows me. I love her as she is and she trusts me. Even when I have veterinarians poke and stick her, she still comes to me for comfort and love. Just like I trust the Savior, that whatever happens in this life, it is part of his plan for me, and that he will help me through it. Unlike my children, she will never grow up to be my equal. Our relationship will always be of master and pet. Because of that, I don’t completely understand why I love her so much. In the scriptures it says that the good shepherd would lay down his life for his sheep. He would, as a human, give his life for animals? Yes. Just as the Savior was God, he gave his life for us lowly humans. Such love for something less than has a sacred quality about it.

As I pondered on these things, I felt the love I had for Pepper swell inside me. I wished I had the Priesthood, so that I could lay my hands on her tiny head and bless her. I thought of the power of the Savior; that perhaps through my faith, I could bless her, not with a Priesthood blessing, but with my own faith and humble prayer.

I stretched out my hand and laid it between her big furry ears, and said a prayer. I prayed that God would have mercy on my little sheep. That she would recover. That she would be healthy again.

The kids and Ben came home from church and the chaos of Sunday afternoon swept all of us up in its wake. Pepper started eating and drinking and peeing. By bedtime, she was playing and running. It wasn’t until this morning as I pondered on Pepper’s rapid recovery that I realized that she had been healed. My prayer was answered!

I also noticed that Ben had woken up to help me. For anyone who knows how soundly that man can sleep, that is surely a miracle. Also, the words I read in my scriptures were exactly what I needed to read.

The Come Follow Me lesson for this week is all about hypocrisy, Pharisaical worship patterns, and the ability of the Savior to see the hearts of men and judge righteous judgement. Whether the widow who cast in her mite, or Zaccheus the righteous chief publican, the Savior was able to see his sheep. They also know him.

https://www.lds.org/study/manual/come-follow-me-for-individuals-and-families-new-testament-2019/20?lang=eng

In Matthew 23, the Savior has some serious shade to throw at the scribes, Pharisees, and Sadducees. I imagine it was shocking for the people to hear their leaders criticized so sharply by the Master. This man who was so gentle and forgiving to the harlots, sinners, and publicans, was filled with rage at the hypocrisy of the Jewish leadership. They appeared so righteous on the outside! I don’t think we have any idea how much respect they commanded from the people, and yet the Savior was not impressed. The lesson warns us about focusing on the outward appearance in our religious practice. We each have the capacity to become Pharisees.

It occurred to me how much I have changed in the past year. I can’t say that I am completely stripped of pride, envy, and vanity; but I feel like I am more honest about myself. This talk, On Being Genuine, by Elder Uctdorf was linked to the lesson. I felt like it was especially powerful. He said:

We come to church not to hide our problems but to heal them.

Elder Uchtdorf

In the past, I have done everything possible to hide my mental health problems from my ward. I have put up my Potemkin village, hoping I would not be found out. No more. In being open and honest about my struggles, I can more authentically testify of my love for my Savior. I don’t need to hide.

With patience and persistence, even the smallest act of discipleship or the tiniest ember of belief can become a blazing bonfire of a consecrated life. In fact, that’s how most bonfires begin—as a simple spark…… And if we continue to embrace and live true principles in our personal circumstances and in our families, we will ultimately arrive at a point where we “hunger no more, neither thirst any more. … For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed [us], and shall lead [us] unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from [our] eyes.”

Elder Uchtdorf

The whole talk is really good. It was exactly what I needed to hear to give me the courage to continue on a path of authenticity. Miracles have come into my life as I have earnestly sought after my Savior. As I learn to be kinder to myself, surround myself with supportive friends, and continue on my path to recovery, I hope that I can see those miracles and remember that my Savior doesn’t judge my outward actions. He sees my heart. And it is His.

Greater Love Hath no Man

May 11, 2019 the world was introduced to a true hero. We don’t often meet them, but this extraordinary young man captured the hearts of the world with his heroic actions at his high school to disarm a fellow student and save the lives of many who would have been his victims.

Kendrick Castillo. When I read his story, pondered on his remarkable young life, and grieved his passing that has left a hole in the world where he held a special place for so many; I thought of my Master’s words. “Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” This boy had that greater love. Just like the two young men who helped the handcart pioneers cross the river and then died themselves, he earned his ticket to paradise with that holy act. He laid down his life for his friends.

The scriptures prophecy of the last days when men’s hearts shall fail them. We are seeing those prophecies come to pass. Think of these young school shooters. There is no love or compassion in their hearts. They are murderous and full of hatred, for what or whom it is unclear. They arise in the fulfillment of prophecy. They are born from the breakdown of the moral fabric of the nation. They are the bitter fruit of the last days. There is only one way to fight back, We must have greater love. Just as Kendrick did.

Some think that the battles must be fought in the courts, or our legislative halls; some believe that forcing their interpretation of God onto others is the solution. There are so many op-eds, so many statistics, so much pontificating on these shootings whenever they happen. I applaud all those who wish to make schools safer for our children, but I think Kendrick had the best answer.

I don’t believe that we will see less of these acts of mass violence. I think we will increasingly see more. What we need are not more weapons or less, but more love. Greater love. Love like Kendrick had.

Love is nurtured in the garden of the soul. Pouring shame on the soul is like pouring salt onto a garden. It will kill everything. It will disturb the PH of the soil for a long time preventing many things from growing properly. People with soul gardens of salt reek havoc on the world. They sow discord and cynicism. They endlessly take from society while refusing to show any gratitude. They produce nothing. They give nothing. They are not born, although some souls are challenged in ways that others are not when it comes to developing their gifts; these souls are made. We make them by using shame instead of love. In our homes. In our classrooms. In our law enforcement. Shame is our go-to tool of choice.

Refusing to shame, choosing to have compassion, choosing to build trust is so much harder to do. With our church congregations. With our families. With our circles of friends. Choosing love is choosing to accept a person as they are, even when they are wrong. We can embrace and protect and nurture each person and help them find their place. When the laws of God are violated, as they will be, the need for love is greater still. If we choose love, the gardens of the souls of those we care for will produce greatly and give back to us again.

Not everyone responds to love. The school shooters killed Kendrick. His love did not prevent that tragic outcome. Still, I have hope that Kendrick in accomplishing his supreme act of sacrifice, has secured for himself a glorious future in the next life, and also for us in which his goodness will inspire many more acts of love and courage.

The rise of so many forms of hate this decade has been for me, an invitation. I have tried to foster greater love. I have laid down my life, in my way, onto this blog. I have laid down my life on these digital pages, for my friends. In doing so, I have exposed myself to the judging eyes of all those who come across it. Still, I lay down my life for you. Take my experiences. Learn from what I have written. May it be a benefit to you.

Some of my friends have encouraged me to walk away from my ward, as they have done. I understand you so much better than I did before this experience. Only you can decide where God wants you to be on Sunday, and I totally respect your decision to put yourself in a place you feel safe and loved. That is where God wants you to be. It isn’t your fault if church members are unable or unwilling to make the holy houses of the Lord safe places for you to worship. It isn’t your fault when uncaring hearts and careless comments wound and destroy trust. I love you. I hope to be an agent of change in a firm and very appropriate way, to make church a safer place for all of you.

When I am strong enough, I plan to meet with my leaders. I plan to help them understand how to make church a safe place for me. In making the church a safer place for me, it will also make it safer for you, and all those who seek the love and compassion of the healing power of the Master. If church feels safe to you now, and my words make you anxious, just realize that not much is going to change. Hopefully, the only thing that will change about church, is that we will understand each other better, and be able to love each other with greater love. That when wounds are given, either purposefully or unintentionally, that those injuries are repaired. That victims are not blamed, that aggressors are not enabled. That patterns of shame are identified and eliminated. That channels of communications are opened and relationships of trust are built.

As we come unto Him in humility and share our experiences, miracles can and do happen! The forces of Satan rage and sow their destruction. The forces of Love and righteousness can likewise rage! Let us consume the forces of hate and Satan with the fire of our greater love! Just as Kendrick did.