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I had the privilege to go to Nauvoo, Illinois from May 1-May 5 for a leadership retreat with Affirmation: LGBT Mormons, Families, and Friends. I was asked to write a piece on the experience I had with Nauvoo. (It was published here) I came to Nauvoo with an interesting perspective... I left with an entirely new one.

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"What am I doing here," I muttered to myself as I stepped off the plane in St. Louis. "This is too close, My past is too vivid here, it's too vulnerable. I don't belong here... this is the one place that I cannot go."

As I collected my bags, and met up the other Affirmation members I was carpooling with, I was filled with a conflicted sense of pain. I didn't feel like the confident 24 year old that I've grown to be; I had been replaced with my 18 year old self... the wanderer., traveling aimlessly into an unknown abyss.

We all piled into a Suburban, and started the drive north along the Mississippi River. I had a lot of time to think, and ponder on what the weekend would bring, and the emotions it would create. Nauvoo is of utmost importance to the Church, and it's members, but as a convert, it had no significant place for me. To me, the City of Joseph was a place filled with religious history, a history filled with holes, and tainted with doubt. I never felt an affinity with Nauvoo... not until I arrived in the city itself.

As we all ate dinner, and set up things at the Nauvoo House on Thursday night, I could feel the Spirit lingering, and the pain that had occurred there. I could feel it hovering... pooling around the buildings, the trees, and the roads. I could feel the aching pain in the Smith family cemetery, and inside the Nauvoo House, the house that Emma had last called home.

Nauvoo's birth was veiled with trauma – the Saints were forced to leave behind their beloved temple in Kirtland, and the Prophet Joseph was imprisoned at Liberty Jail, leaving Emma and the Saints to fend for themselves while being expelled from Missouri. The Saints continued to experience pain with the doctrine of plural marriage, and the eventual martyrdom of Hyrum and Joseph. Nauvoo, while indeed the beautiful place that had inspired it's name, was not a place of joy... it was a place of injury and inexplicable pain and suffering.

Friday morning and afternoon, I had the opportunity to explore the historical sites of Nauvoo. I walked down Main Street and stopped at the Times and Seasons, the home of Apostle (and 3rd President of the Church) John Taylor, and Scovil Bakery on my way to the LDS Visitors Center, where I took a wagon ride along the historical districts of the city. I was struck by the abandoned feeling of the flatlands of Old Nauvoo. Most of the buildings had been torn down within the first 40 years after the Saints crossed the plains. All that was left were empty fields and the handful of buildings that had been preserved and renovated.

As I made my way back to the river to Emma's Nauvoo House, people had started to arrive. Dinner as being made in the kitchen, and volunteers were beginning to set up the parlor with tables and chairs. These were my people – my family – and my heart began to fill with joy. These were the people who know me, and understood my journey as a gay Mormon.

We sat down to dinner, and the conversation flowed. I was catching up with old friends, and planting seeds with new friends. Everything was wonderful. After dinner was finished, we pushed the tables to the side, and started the ice breaker activities. We went around the room and shared 3 adjectives about our anticipation of the weekend. Many described feelings of joy, and excitement, as well as faith and devotion. Mine however revealed my cloud of apprehension – my adjectives were hope, fear, and trepidation.

The next activity had us move around the room in a game called "social mapping". We were first told to move to where we lived. For me, that as Salt Lake City... easy enough. The next however threw that cloud of uncertainty over me. Move to where you call home. I don't have a home. I was born and raised in Defiance, Ohio, but that is far from anything I would consider home. In Salt Lake, I have a house that I live in, with a roommate and a dog, but it isn't home. I was homeless, so I moved to a corner that could only be called limbo.

That night I was plagued with restless sleep. I tossed and turned, wrestling with the parallels drawn between myself and this place. Nauvoo was too close to home. It represented everything that I had run away from – everything that I had left behind, and never looked back to remember. It represented a place that required a recommend of worthiness I cannot obtain.

Saturday morning, I awoke and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I gathered my things and drove over to the Community of Christ (formerly the RLDS Church) Visitors Center where we held a scripture study session led by John Gustav-Wrathall, Judy Finch, Todd Richardson, and Tom Christofferson. As we discussed passages from the Doctrine and Covenants, an interesting point was made about how the LDS Church, and its members, handle pain... we smile through it. I realized that I've done this my entire life. Every step I have ever taken, I made sure to take it in a way that showed my friends, my family, and the members of my ward that everything was fine, even as my world was crumbling before my eyes. I tried to look at it from a point of view that turned it into good, but did it without taking the time to mourn, to sob, to anguish, and to panic. I tried to turn it into a blessing before I had given myself the opportunity to heal. It was during this session, that I learned to confront my own demons, and mourn my losses. I learned that everything is a blessing, but it can't be a blessing until I am ready to fight back against the abuse that I had left unchallenged.

Our second session was conducted on the banks of the Mississippi River, at the end of the Trail of Hope where the Saints had left Nauvoo to begin their trek west. This is where the Saints looked back on their homes, their businesses, their schools, and their beloved temple, and chose to abandon them, so as to leave and search for a better life. I reflected and meditated on the loss of the Saints felt as they left their homes. I was reminded of the Atonement of the Savior, and how the Saints had to have leaned on Him for their strength and good spirits in that desperate time of need. Aside from the temple, this is where I felt the Spirit most strongly. It kept pushing me toward the bank, saying, "Go. The pain of your personal exodus in life pales in comparison to the pain here. Go. Find your own joy."

After a morning of exploring that opened my eyes to understanding I had never before uncovered, we took a break for lunch and free time. The first couple of hours I spent with the women of the Conference. We had our lunch overlooking the river and getting to know one another on a deeper level than we had the previous night. After lunch, I went to find my scriptures, and my journal, and I was overcome with emotion. The closer I came to understanding the events that transpired here, the more I was brought back to my own past, and the experiences that made me who I am today. I fought the tears that came from a place buried deep inside of me. No matter where I turned for peace, the peace was overwhelmed by pain.

After dinner, we all gathered into cars and we drove up to the temple for our group picture. The sun was just beginning to set, and the view from the hill overlooking the land and the river was remarkable. It was here and here alone that I felt peace. I watched the boys skip down the hill, and looked over at the young couple taking their wedding photos. I felt a very distinct feeling that told me everything would be ok, and that all things would ultimately turnout for my good. With all of the conflicting emotions I had felt this weekend, that confirmation and blessings of peace from my Heavenly Mother and Father was exactly what I needed for my journey to inner peace.

The last event of the night was the meeting we held on the second floor of Joseph Smith's Red Brick Store. Berta Marquez shared her story of being a Guatemalan refugee in the oppressive conditions of her country's dictatorship. She was able to create a new life for herself, and she pulled herself out of a place of despair, into a place of hope. I grew up being taught, and eventually begun to believe that I was to shoulder my burdens, and accept the side effects and limitations that came with them. This was yet another confirmation to challenge the things taught to me, and to forge my own path.

Carol Lynn Pearson was the last to speak that night. Her presentation struck me, and transformed my experience. She spoke about Emma Hale Smith, Joseph's beloved wife. She spoke of the devotion and unconditional love she had for her husband, but also spoke of the suffering and anguish she endured through the revelation of her husband's plural marriages, and then the crippling trauma of his assassination. Carol Lynn performed a monologue that she had written about Emma in her play, Mother Wove the Morning. It was so touching, and so moving that I had tears flowing down my face the entire monologue. She summed up, in 10 minutes, the thoughts and feelings that I had harbored, and clutched so closely to my heart for all of these years.

Sunday morning, we had a testimony meeting in the Seventies Hall owned by the LDS Church. The Nauvoo Mission President was present, and he spoke to us briefly before the stand was opened to us to share our feelings and our testimonies. Every single one of us spoke straight from the heart, and spoke with a vulnerable authenticity that we can't always express in our wards and branches back home.

As I walked up to the stand to bear my testimony, I was sustained with a shot of confidence that I had been lacking for the last few days. I went up, and shared my favorite passage from the Book of Mormon. The first 8 verses of the Book of Enos begin with Enos wrestling before God, and his soul hungering for truth. He knelt down before his Maker and "cried unto Him in mighty prayer and supplication for mine own soul." It goes on to read, "all the day long did I cry unto him, yea, and when the night came I did still raise my voice high that it reached the heavens."

This is what I had done for so long... prayed, cried, and anguished for the Lord to fix something that was unfixable. I had pleaded with the Lord to help me with the trials of my childhood and adolescence, so that I could be made whole once more. My Heavenly Mother and Father had helped me accept myself as a gay woman, but now I needed Their help in calming the waters of my past, and allowing me to grow.

Like Enos, I prayed for the Lord to bless me with forgiven sins, and a calm heart. Like Enos, I don't know how it was to be accomplished, but I knew that it would be done. The Lord tells Enos, "Because of your faith in Christ, who thou hast never before heard nor seen. And many years lass away before he shall manifest himself in the flesh; wherefore go to, thy faith hath made thee whole."

The rest of the day was filled with hugs and goodbyes as people set off to drive back home and the the airport. By the end, there were only a handful of us left. We drove to Carthage, to see the site of the martyrdom, and once again the Spirit there was one of anguish. The room where the Prophet Joseph and his brother Hyrum were killed held a chill... it was an eerie sense of finality and certitude. It's a feeling that I will never forget.

When I got back from Carthage, and after all the chores were finished, I went outside, and looked out over the river for the final time. I walked over the the Smith family cemetery and placed my hand on Emma's marker. I laughed with her, and I cried with her. I shared in her joys and in her triumphs, and mourned with her over her losses, and her pain. I shared with her my love for her, and my admiration of her courage, and driven nature. I poured my heart out to her about my life – sharing the joy and pride of my success, and sharing the pain I've harbored for so long. I told her of my family, and explained how I yearn to be reunited with them someday. Emma and I developed a sisterhood that night. I created that bond that I so desperately needed to create with this place. And I was finally at peace.

As I boarded the place back to Salt Lake City, I allowed Nauvoo to stay with me. I didn't leave and never look back like I had so often done before. I allowed myself to see that Nauvoo was home. I am a Saint. I have been left behind, I have been left abandoned. I have been the one driven out; I have been the one with an extermination order written against me. I had once been the weary traveler; I had once been the aimless wanderer. Nauvoo welcomed me with open arms; The City of Joseph is home.







Eternal Perspectives

Last Tuesday was my last week of Institute for the semester. It was an interesting semester, filled with both ups, and downs. The highlight of the semester was by far my Women and the Gospel: Eternal Perspectives class. While the class did not emulate my vision of women in the Church, nor did it change my beliefs, it offered me a different perspective, and a different voice to the conversation.

Sister Lisa Clayton is one of the biggest reasons I have stayed active in the Church. She showed us glimpses of our futures, filled with free thought, postgraduate education, careers, and motherhood. She allowed us to have an opinion, and did not shut down a conversation when difficult questions were asked, or when alternative opinions were voiced. She let us think, pray, ponder, and learn. She allowed us to come up with our own conclusions. She gave us freedom to choose.

At the end of class I gave her a letter. Sister Clayton will not be back next semester to teach, because she will be in the Toronto Canada Mission serving as Mission President with her husband. I have all the hope in the world that she will be a resource, a mentor, and a guide to those 19 year old sisters. Because that's exactly what she was to me.

Sister Clayton,

I just wanted to say how thankful I am for you, and for you're class. I signed up for Institute this year with hesitation... I've had less than positive experiences in Institute, and in the Church, so I walked into your classroom filled with doubt and trepidation.

In all honesty, I expected your class to be full of lessons on a "woman's place"... in the home, nurturing the children and supporting our husbands in their careers and Priesthood callings. The Church has really been hammering the idea that a woman's greatest achievements and honors come from motherhood, and I expected the class to mirror those talking points. I was pleasantly surprised every week.

Your lessons allowed for discussion, free thought, and personal opinion... something that I have been hard pressed to find in my classes and meetings as someone with alternative opinions. You allowed us to blaze our own trails, march to the beats of our own drummers. While some of us will choose to stay at home, most of us will go on to post graduate education, and careers that allow us to fulfill our mortal responsibilities and desires, while also allowing us to exceed our eternal destinies. Thank you for empowering us with these possibilities.

You asked me a few months ago in an email what I see upon my horizon... what I see my future brings. At the time, I was unsure of how to answer... the answers are anything but simple or typical. But they begin with my patriarchal blessing. The biggest thing that stands out to me is this:

The world is in commotion. There is a multitude of opinions, motives, and desires in conflict, and it is difficult for a seeker of truth to know who is right. The grace of God has given you the answer. Be grateful for the knowledge and testimony He has given you.

You see... in December 2011, right after my bishop and stake president revoked my mission call, I was in the Oquirrh Mountain Temple in South Jordan. I was in the baptistery and weeping uncontrollably. I was begging for God to take my same sex attraction away. I did not want it. And every time I asked, I was met with a tidal wave of despair and hopelessness. I believed the words of my bishop... that I was defected. Broken. Unclean. I planned on the trip being my last temple attendance. I was planning suicide.

And then, suddenly, I asked, "Is it ok for me to be gay? Is this how you made me?" The floodgates burst open, and all of the love, support, and joy I've been praying for, flooded into my body. This revelation of love and confirmation that God did indeed love me, and made me this way was not the only one. I felt strong impressions to find a wife, and to have a family... but most importantly, I was instructed to stay in the Church. My Heavenly Mother, and my Heavenly Father validated my hurt feelings, but They told me to "stay a little longer." So I'm still here.

I firmly believe that the revelation was from God. Satan cannot penetrate the walls of the temple, and his misleading messages cause doubt and fear. This was the farthest thing from fear and doubt. This was my spiritual rebirth.

My Patriarchal Blessing goes on to tell me:

You have been reserves to come to Earth in the dispensation of the fullness of times in which you now live, in order that you could assist in the preparations for the Second Coming of the Lord Jesus Christ.

You will be able to accomplish the purposes for which you were sent to the Earth. There are significant purposes and circumstances where you'll provide very valuable assistance in accomplishing the work of the Lord.

I now know, 3 years later, that my true mission is here. Being active in my ward. Being a leader with Affirmation: LGBT Mormons, Families & Friends. My mission is to quell the untrue myths about LGBT people. I am here to show that we are just as good people, just as good parents, and just as good disciples of Christ as our heterosexual and cisgender brothers and sisters.

I do not claim to be receiving revelation for the Church. I want that to be clear. But I do want to stress that my Heavenly Mother and Father told me these things so that I would stay. Stay in the Church, but also to stay on the Earth. In mortality. I didn't know it then, but They needed me to be here to help the change in the Church to flourish and grow.

So... my horizon has a wife. Foster kids. A career in public service. A temple marriage. Ward/stake callings. Maybe even a few books. Pretty normal if you ask me. And hopefully, in 5, 10 or 20 years it will be seen as normal by everyone else.

Thank you for all of your love and support. You will be a fantastic asset to all of those sisters. Empower them to be who they are, to think for themselves, and help them grow into the strong leaders we will need in the future.

Love, Ellen

What Would Jesus Do?

This Saturday, April 5th, I had the opportunity and privilege to stand in line with a few hundred of my fellow Sisters, and many Brothers, seeking admission to the General Priesthood Session of General Conference. I stand in awe of the testimonies of the women I surrounded myself with that day, and I am so blessed to be able to call them friends.

This is my account of the events of that afternoon. My opinions and actions are mine, and many other women have similar stories. I'm just blessed to be able to voice my own.

I attended the Saturday Afternoon Session at the Conference Center right before the General Priesthood Session. At the close of the session, I watched the crowds filing out of the auditorium, and watched the seats empty. With a start, I realized that in a span of one hour, I would no longer be welcome inside of the building. It was a sobering realization.

I arrived to City Creek Park just before everyone started lining up to leave. I was herded into line right after many of the women in leadership positions, and other prominent figures like Joanna Brooks and Margaret Toscano. As we started leaving the park, there were a handful of men with signs that started yelling at us. One yelled, "Get back in the kitchen and make me some cookies!" Another yelled, "Go make me a ham sandwich and get me a Coke!" I stifled the urge to laugh... the only sandwich I would be making for a man would be a knuckle sandwich... to the crotch. But as I walked past them, I blew them both a kiss. In that moment, there was no better expression of love and compassion I could have given them.

The Salt Lake Police were there, escorting us to Temple Square. They directed us to cross the intersection from the park to Temple Square diagonally. I certainly thought it was a good idea, after all, it was more direct. The people in their cars however, did not appreciate it. Most of them were in their Sunday best, and it was clear that they were members of the Church headed to or from Conference. There were loud honks from their horns, offensive gestures out of rolled down windows, and shouted insults, and jeers. From one I heard, "You're blocking f****** traffic!" From another, "Get out of the street! Get out of the Church!" How can it possibly be seen as Christ-like, when you are screaming and flipping people off? How would Christ react to us? What would He say to us?

The hail started coming down, just as we entered the grounds by the Church Office Building. As we walked, there were women talking about their pioneer heritage. That no matter the hardships, the cold, the rain, or the snow, they persevered. I'm a convert; I have no pioneer heritage. But this helped me understand the hardships of the pioneers, and their quest for equality, and validation in their religious beliefs. The hail continued to fall, and I (without a coat or umbrella) started getting cold, wet, and a little bit miserable. But all I could continue to think was, "If this doesn't show my will and dedication for the hard work, and dedication of the priesthood, I don't know what will."

Once we got the the southeast gate of Temple Square, I noticed that the gate had been shut. The gates are NEVER shut to Temple Square unless it's after hours. I was shocked. I remembered seeing a news release saying that the Church was not going to bar us from entering Temple Square. And yet, the door was closed to us, simply because we are different. Kate noticed that the gate was not locked. So we opened the door, and we started moving towards the tabernacle.

We walked confidently, with our heads held high. As we started getting near the Tabernacle, many of the men looked at us with scorn, and distaste. There was even a man asking to see our Temple Recommends. Yet nothing, not even the hail pelting my skin, could diminish my resolve, nor put out the fire burning inside of me. I was doing what I knew to be right.

Suddenly, without warning, an older gentleman ran right into me, cutting me off, causing me to stumble, and almost fall to the ground. I couldn't believe it. There is no way that he could not have seen me! I was walking two by two near the front of a long line of women! I regained my balance, and called out to him, asking if he was ok. He never once looked back at me.

I kept moving, and I took my place in the stand by line. Women and men were lining up behind me, and the line was making its way around the Tabernacle. I started chatting with a few other people in line near me, when I noticed two men in line with us, who were not a part of Ordain Women. They were chatting with some people in front of me, when the younger man noticed that a female usher was quietly leading a handful of men to another entrance. The young man started urging the older man to get out of line, and to follow the other usher to the other entrance. Once I saw what was happening, I knew at that moment, that the "stand by" line that I was standing in, was a fake. The "real" line was somewhere else... somewhere where I was not invited.

At last, I was at the front of the line. I was standing in front of Kim Farah, the Church's chosen representative from the Public Relations Department. She introduced herself, and the first thing that she noticed was that I was soaking wet. She cared about me as a person, not as a perceived "protester". We chatted for a moment, and I asked for the opportunity to show my willingness and dedication to serve my fellow sisters and brothers in ways I have never been able to do, because I am a woman. I asked for the opportunity to bless my family and bless my home with the power and authority of God. She smiled, and politely gave the reasons why women are not ordained, and encouraged me to watch the General Women's meeting, if I had not yet seen it. I told her that I had, and that I appreciated the small steps the Church has taken in regards to the female membership and participation in our doctrine. I mentioned how pleased I was last year to listen to the historic moment where a woman was finally asked to pray in General Conference, and how exciting the news was when the photographs of the Relief Society, Young Women, and Primary Presidencies were hung in the Conference Center, next to the existing ones for the men.

Before I left, I asked her one more question. I asked, "Kim? Because this is the general priesthood meeting, are non member males, or male members who have not yet been ordained, allowed into the meeting?"

She said yes.

I replied, "Even though they do not hold the Priesthood, they are still admitted?" She answered yes again, saying that it was part of their instruction as men in the Church, similar to how women have the Women's Meeting, even if they are not members.

I then said, "Well, that is unfortunate. I could understand being barred from the meeting if it was a matter of not holding the priesthood, because then the man who lives next door to me would also be denied entrance. But it is unfortunate that my only disqualifying trait is the fact that I am a woman." I thanked her, and I gave her a hug. Before I walked away however, I paused at the closed door of the Tabernacle, and I stepped up to touch the door. I could feel the faint vibrations from the activity inside, and I said a very quick prayer of thanks, and asked the Lord to bless me with strength and patience. As I opened my eyes, a faint voice told me, "Stay yet a little longer." Only then, with my strength renewed and my testimony reinforced, did I walk away.

That night, I saw on Salt Lake Tribune the Church statement about the event... claiming that we refused to leave when asked, among other things. About a week before General Conference, the Church banned the media was from entering Temple Square. Without the press, the Church's statement is the only information released, and the information is extremely one sided. I was never told by a Church employee to leave. In the end... the fact that the Church issued this misleading statement, hurt me more than anything else over the weekend. And in hindsight, I am so glad that I had the opportunity to speak to the press after we were denied entry to the meeting. It is important for people to know what had happened, through the eyes of the people who experienced it.


Regardless of your personal feelings towards Ordain Women and it's mission, and regardless of whether or not you agree with my view of the world, and my views on the Church, what do you think Christ would have done. Would He have honked His horn and yelled out of His car window at me? Would He have caused me to stumble and fall? Would He have ridiculed me, questioned my testimony, and tell me to leave His Church? No! He would have waited patiently in His car, and caught me as I fell, so I could steady my unstable feet. He would have told me that He loved me unconditionally, and made sure that I felt welcome and valued in His Church. He would have welcomed me with open arms. So knock. Ask. Have strength, and have courage. But ask yourself... What Would Jesus Do?

Down In The River To Pray

Earlier this week, while driving to Boise, ID, the hymn "Down in the River to Pray" came on the radio. (Ironically, on the Mormon Tabernacle Choir Pandora station) It was a version sung by Allison Krauss on her album "A Hundred Miles or More". The song is sung completely A Capella, and the lyrics are virtually the same throughout, but at the beginning of each verse and chorus, the song addresses a new group of people. Sisters. Brothers. Fathers. Mothers. Then... at the very end... Sinners.

On the eve of General Conference, and another General Priesthood Session, this rings throughout my heart, like a bell being sounded in a bell tower.

The Church loves gender roles. There is always at least one talk that solely focuses on them, and countless others that mention and refer to them in one way or another. These talks are meant to emphasize (and usually over emphasize) that we are different, separate, and not meant to blend. (BUT STILL EQUAL!)

The simple fact is that we are different. We are remarkable, unparalleled, and extraordinary. We have different opinions, and different interests. We have different experiences, and have different talents. We are of different heights, weights, colors, ethnicity, and language. We are unique! (Just like everyone else...)

We are Sisters and Mothers. Brothers and Fathers. We are friends, and sometimes foes. But most importantly, we are sinners. We all sin differently. Many of us swear, and work on the Sabbath. Others may take something that is not theirs, and then lie to cover their tracks. A few of us may have even done something more serious, like committing adultery. But no matter what we have done, and no matter who we are, or what positions we hold, we are all sinners.

So we really are all the same. We have our petty differences, and the things that make us who we are. But we are the same. We have the same desires to be close to our Heavenly Parents. We have the same desires to be Christ-like, and to serve others. We have the desire to wake up the next morning as a better person than we were the day before.

But most importantly, in the prophetic words of the Book of Mormon prophet, Nephi, Our Heavenly Parents inviteth all that come unto Them, and denieth none. Black and white; bond and free; FEMALE and MALE, we are all alike unto God.

 

"Lord, I Would Follow Thee"

"Who am I to judge another, when I walk imperfectly? In the quiet heart is hidden, sorrow that the eye can't see. Who am I to judge another? Lord, I would follow thee."

This is the second verse of Hymn 220 Lord, I Would Follow Thee from the LDS Hymn Book. We sang this hymn at the opening of my Teachings of President Thomas S. Monson Institute class last night, and after all the hell that has gone on in this class, Brother Butler has really redeemed himself.

The entire lesson was about how we are to be our brother's keeper; not picking out their flaws, and shortcomings, but loving them without judgement or scorn. We talked about President Monson's time serving as the Bishop of the 6th & 7th Ward, and his overwhelming generosity he expressed to his ward members. He gave love and service to his ward without a second thought.

Brother Butler then wrote on the whiteboard these 7 words: Vision, Patience, Balance, Effort, Understanding, Courtesy, and Love. He asked us to pick one of those words and search the Scriptures for references that meant something to us. I immediately turned to the Topical Guide to find something for Understanding. Proverbs 3:5-6 popped out at me first, "Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths." For the word Love, I immediately thought of Doctrine and Covenants 18:10, "Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God."

People tend to believe that because someone's lifestyle or opinions don't match our own, we are right in our excuse to not understand them. And because we are excused from understanding them, we excuse ourselves from our duty to love them. We are wrong in doing so. Every soul is of worth in the sight of God! Lean not unto your own understanding about them, and go seek them out in compassion.

The final verse in the Hymn, "Lord, I Would Follow Thee" begins like this, "Savior, may I love my brother as I know thou lovest me," We are to lift the fallen, not to figure out if they deserve to be lifted. We are to heal the hurting, not to judge whether or not they are worthy of the healing. We are to clothe the naked, feed the hungry, and to do so without hesitation nor pause. For inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of my brethren, ye have done it unto me. - Matthew 25:40

Tuesday's Warriors

I was dreading Tuesday. I was terrified of Tuesday. Last Tuesday I was ostracized, outcast, and oppressed. Tuesday broke me.

But this Tuesday... Tuesday was to be the day that I stood up to my fears. Tuesday was to be the day that I stood up to my oppressors. Tuesday was to be the day that I stood up for myself.

It turned out to be so much more.

I attend Institute at the Salt Lake City Institute at the University of Utah. Last week, when I attended my "Teachings of President Thomas S. Monson" class, I was absolutely smeared and belittled for being gay by the substitute teacher. Here's the story. I was scared to go back... I was so excited for this class, and now I'm fighting with myself to go. It shouldn't be that way.

I sent out a cry for help to Mormons Building Bridges, Young Mormon Feminists, Affirmation Millennial's, and Feminist Mormon Housewives on Monday. Dozens from out of state sent their love and their prayers. Others got a hold of family members that live in Salt Lake to see if they could attend with me. All in all, three people were able to make it to my class: Andrew, Laura, and Katie.

Andrew and I arrived together, and set up shop in the front corner of the classroom. A few minutes after class started, Laura came in. We didn't know each other until that day, so she stood in the back and said, "Is Ellen here? I'm looking for Ellen." Very timidly, I rose my hand and said, "I'm Ellen." And she came right over, full of self confidence and spunk, and kicked Andrew right out of his seat! He was a great sport, and Laura was thrilled to see that he was there for me too. She introduced herself and gave me a hug, and then let class continue. A few minutes later, Katie came in. I waved her over, and she came to sit right behind me. My army had arrived. I felt safe. I had the strength to speak my truth.

The lesson was a crap fest. Very traditional, orthodox Mormon. The class focus is supposed to be the Teachings of President Monson, and yet, the only thing discussed about him was the age change for missionaries. I brought up how wonderful it was to see more Sisters entering the mission field. Brother Butler agreed with me, and suggested that it was divinely inspired to "level the playing field" between the men and the women. His logic was that educated, professional women intimidate the men, and therefore encourage them to be lazy and play video games all day.

 

*facepalm*

Laura, in all her Mormon Feminist glory, spoke up and asked, "Why is it a problem for women to be professional and have careers? Why is it a problem for them to own their home or condo? Why are these young men intimidated? Maybe we should be raising and teaching our young men differently."

Next up was the equating argument between Motherhood and the Priesthood. Laura countered and explained that Fatherhood = Motherhood; Priesthood is an entirely different thing. While Brother Butler stepped back to clarify that he meant it in more of a metaphorical way, he never backed off of the comparison.

He explained that it's the mother's responsibility to usher us into the world, and the Priesthood's responsibility to usher us into the hereafter. He talked about the Ordain Women movement, and described it as a "peculiar new idea", after which a girl spoke up and started saying that "being equal to men doesn't mean to be the same as them." Which then segued into a call to read Sherri Dew's new Book "Women and the Priesthood". Which is gross.

The argument about how Satan hates family was brought up often. How he continually attacks the institution of the family (though he never brought up LGBT families, which I consider a win), and the divine role of women. He hates women because he will never have an eternal family with a wife and children. It was certainly an explanation that I had never heard before, and it certainly raised a few eyebrows, even if they were just from the four of us.

Heavenly Mother was brought up, and the first real explanation as to why we never talk about Her was given: "It hasn't yet been revealed." It was nice to have someone say, "I don't know," rather than to divert back to the "She's too special," cop out. Katie absolutely rocked it by offering places to find information on Heavenly Mother... specifically this BYU Study. Once he realized that he had a handful of Feminists in the room, he said that he was open to difficult discussions, and topics.

To end the lesson, we went over a timeline of the big moments of President Monson's life and ministry. We closed with a prayer and a hymn, and then the rest of the class dispersed. Katie, Andrew and Laura all stayed behind with me so I could talk to Brother Butler about the concerns I had from last week. He was already aware of mormonsandgays.org, and he didn't erase it from the board after I wrote it there. He listened intently while I told him about the collapse of my mission, and the affirming experience I had in the Temple that brought me out of the deep depression I had slipped into. He listened to what Elder Peters had said and done last week, and he welcomes the fact that I'm outspoken, and that I will stand up for the things that I believe in. We'll see if he really wants what he's going to get...

All in all... the Thomas S. Monson class is going to be the most challenging class. But the Women and the Gospel: Eternal Perspectives class... the class that I was convinced was going to be a shit show... is going to be my salvation. That class is at 7:30 in room W003. Please come and experience the awesome. I'm going to start blogging about that class too, so stay tuned!

As I Have Loved You

I had one of the worst experiences of my time in the Church yesterday. I had taken a year of hiatus from Institute, and decided that I would take a class titled, "Teachings of Thomas S. Monson". When I walked into the class, there was a substitute teacher, Elder Peters – a Church service missionary – giving his introduction. He immediately started off with politics and controversy, and that's when everything started going downhill.

He started going on and on about how Mormons need to be the moral compass of the world. That we were so popular in the 1960s and 1970s, specifically with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. And then the ERA came around, and the Church became the "bad guys". Then it was Prop 8, and now it's the Federal Court ruling about marriage. Just going on and on about how people that supported these measures, and those that affiliate with these people are sinning.

I couldn't keep quiet anymore. I was so uncomfortable and I had physically felt the Spirit leave the room. When he paused and asked if we had any comments, I raised my hand. I quoted President Monson from his closing statements of the April 2013 General Conference, "We are a worldwide Church, brothers and sisters. Our membership is found across the globe. I admonish you to be good citizens of the nations in which you live and good neighbors in your communities, reaching out to those of other faiths as well as to our own. May we be tolerant of, as well as kind and loving to, those who do not share our beliefs and our standards. The Savior brought to this earth a message of love and goodwill to all men and women. May we ever follow His example."

I went on to explain that his comments are especially painful because he is speaking ill of people who are sitting in this room. Me. I'm gay. I know I'm gay because I've had personal revelation from our Heavenly Father – personal revelation that our Church values so highly. I have been to the brink of suicide and self hatred. I said that we need to be compassionate and loving like Elder Cook calls us to be. We need to acknowledge that every one's personal experiences are valid, like Elder Christofferson tells us. We need to be tolerant of other people's political opinions like President Monson told us in an interview with the Deseret News in 2008, "Regarding another question about whether church members could disagree with the faith's opposition to legalizing same-sex unions and still remain in good standing, he said the answer 'depends on what the disagreement is... If it's an apostasy situation, that would not be appropriate. If it's something political, there is room for opinion here and there on either side.'"

He blew his top. He rose his voice, and said, "There is no such thing as homosexuality and so called same sex attraction! It did not exist in the premortal existence! It does not exist in the post mortal existence! And it does not exist here! You are choosing to sin. You are choosing to be inferior."

I walked out in tears. No one stood up to support me. No one even looked at me. They just stared straight ahead. As I walked down the hallway, and found a seat to calm down in, I opened my Scriptures to John 13:34. It reads, "A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another."

As I have loved you.

Do you have any idea how powerful that is?? Christ loved us so much that He defended us from Lucifer's disastrous plan of forced obedience. He loved us so much that He came and fulfilled the Law in order to bring a new and everlasting covenant, where we are forgiven of our sins. He lived us so much that he bore the weight of the world and suffered the price of our sins. He shouldered the weight of our guilt, pain, sorrow, and suffering. A weight so large and so traumatic that He showed a rare moment of mortal hesitation and plead with His Father, Our God, to "take this bitter cup" from Him. And yet, He pressed on bearing the weight that would cause His blood to run from every pore.

He completed His Atonement, and guaranteed that you and I will never be left comfort less. He has secured us a place. He allows us to return to celestial glory to live with Him, and our Heavenly Parents again.

We need the Atonement, because we aren't perfect. We abuse our fellow men at worst, and tolerate them at best. John is telling us to love others, and to look at those people that we despise, abuse, and tolerate through the eye's of Christ, and to see them as sisters and brothers of Christ.

I had never looked at it that way. I despise this teacher because of how uninformed, and hurtful he was. I despised my classmates for their indifference. I despise Governor Herbert for his decision to nullify over 1300 marriages because he has a "moral opposition". But I need to look at it in a completely different way.

The next time I see Elder Peters, I need to look at him as my brother in Christ, and know that he is a product of his generation.

Next week, when I walk into class, and I see my classmates again, I need to look at them with compassion, and remember how hard it is to speak up on a tough situation. None of us is quite as Christlike as we know we should be.

This week, when I support my LGBT Brothers and Sisters who have had their marriages annulled and fight and pray for their civil rights to be reinstated, I will look to Governor Herbert and see him as a son of God. A son of God who is doing what he believes to be right. I will look at him with love, even though I strongly disagree with his political and civil decisions.

Will I yet go away from Institute? Not yet. I've contacted the Institute office to let them know about the events that transpired, and I will be going into class early next Tuesday to discuss what happened with our assigned instructor, Brother Butler. I will give it another chance. Because the only Apostle that I love more than President Monson is President Uchtdorf, and I will not shy away from learning how to be a better person from the teachings of this great man.

I Am Free At Last - Marriage Equality For Utah

It happened. I honestly didn't think that this would happen while I was still in my twenties, or even in my thirties... and I certainly never expected it to be within the year that DOMA was struck down.  But after years of fighting and getting ourselves out there... showing that we are normal members of society and that we have the same capacity to love and cherish a spouse and raise beautiful children, Utahns have gained the right to get married in the state that we love. Judge Robert J. Shelby, District Judge for the United States District Court for the District of Utah wrote in his 53 page decision, "The state’s current laws deny its gay and lesbian citizens their fundamental right to marry and, in so doing, demean the dignity of these same-sex couples for no rational reason. Accordingly, the court finds that these laws are unconstitutional."

Couples are lined up at city hall in Salt Lake County, Davis County, and Cache County. Seth
Anderson and his husband Michael Ferguson were the first couple to be married, and in early reports it looks like over 200 liscences have been issued. Salt Lake City Mayer Ralph Becker has announced that he will stay all night if nessessary to perform marriage ceremonies.

Seth and Michael

 

Mayer Ralph Becker

 

I am so proud of my city!! I am proud to be a citizen of this great state.

The state of Utah has already filed an appeal from the 10th Circuit Court of Appeals, and filed for an immediate stay of the ruling. As far as I'm able to see... a stay has not yet been granted, but we'll see if one comes through tomorrow morning. While it's disapointing, it was certainly expected. I hope and pray that the pathetic reasons that are being argued in support of discrimination, will be swept aside. And if they do stand, I hope they refuse to issue marriage liscences to couples who are no longer of child bearing age, and refuse to allow couples to have children, when they won't follow "responsible procreation" or be raised in "optimal child rearing enviornments".

When I heard the news, I was sitting at my desk at work, and immediately after I read the message from a friend alerting me of the news, I started crying. Tears streaming down my cheeks, and a huge smile spread across my face. I'm sure I looked like a fool. But it was one of the most monumental moments of my life.

The Church has also made a statement after the announcement, "The Church has been consistent in it's supporter of traditional marriage while teaching that all people should be treated with respect. This ruling by a district court will work its way through the judicial process. We continue to believe that voters in Utah did the right thing by providing clear direction in the state constitution that marriage should be between a man and a woman and we are hopeful that this view will be validated by a higher court"

 

 

One day I hope that the Church I love so much will one day recognize the words of our Savior, quoted from John, "A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another." It is also my hope that the leadership reads the declaration given by Joseph Smith on August 17, 1835 in the 134th section of the Doctrine and Covenants. Verse 4 reads, "We believe that religion is instituted of God; and that men are amenable to him, and to him only, for the exercise of it, unless their religious opinions prompt them to infringe upon the rights and liberties of others..." Verse 9 reads, "We do not believe it just to mingle religious influence with civil government..." We are a Church that has faced discrimination in the past, with a extermination order issused against us. We know, more than many religious and civil groups, the bitter sting of discrimination under the law.

Today, I am recognized as normal. I will be able to call my (one day) wife, my wife! I won't have to call her my "partner". Partner has always felt cold, distant, and not real. Now I can say I'm "married" without it being a lie. I'll be married rather than being eternally engaged to my girlfriend. I am now protected by law... laws without any pretty exceptions that they have to put in there so that people cannot deny me a home, or employment solely based on my sexuality.

I am free. No one can cage me now.

The Life That's Waiting For Us

When I was 17 years old, my parents sent me to a residential treatment center to begin and finish my senior year of high school. The experience was not the worst experience of my life, but it tore me down bit by bit, inch by inch, until there was little left of the light, and strength of my spirit. It tore my self confidence to shreds. The experience taught me that no matter the pain or heartache I had experienced in the past, I was solely at fault for everything that had happened.

Observing the interactions with my family was telling as well. Very few letters, awkward and shorter than allotted phone calls, and being the only one whose parents did not permit them to go home for Christmas. I learned that I had
earned their tolerance rather than their unconditional love.

This is only one side of the story, and not a complete one at that, but it conveys accurately the feelings of my heart... Feelings from 7 years ago, and feelings from today.

During my time there, I developed the belief that God alone could save me. That God alone could heal my afflictions and mistakes. I believed that with enough faith, with enough devotion, I would be made whole.

This led me to the Church. I was yearning for truth in a way I had never sought before. I was entranced in the idea that righteousness brings blessings. And the only blessing that I wanted was to be made whole. To be made into the image that God intended. To see myself in the way God saw me. And it was a bitter pill to swallow when I realized that after two years of strict adherence to the letter of the law... nothing happened. My family relations were still non existent. I was still broken. I was still gay. And it only led to more self loathing, more self hatred, and more failure.

But it lead me to really open my eyes. That's when my search for truth took off. And the truth I found, while unorthodox and unexpected, was exactly what I needed.

I learned the truth. I learned that while I had done wrong, and that I was to blame for the vast majority of it, I was not to blame for all of it. I learned that my parents had done wrong, and they were to blame for some of it, but not all of it. My classmates, teachers, neighbors, friends, bullies... they were all to blame for some, but all. They were to blame for their words, and their actions towards me. I was to blame for my words and actions, and for all of the hurt that I caused. But I learned not to carry blame that was not my own.

From that day forward, I learned that healing was possible. I learned how to have compassion and forgiveness for my fellow men and women. I no longer looked for their faults, but instead I looked for their good. For their praiseworthy actions. I learned to recognize that all of us have done wrong. You. Me. Your spouse. Your dog. Some of those wrongs were done intentionally, but most weren't. Some of these wrongs were severely painful, and others were not.

Because Christ's Atonement is infinite, I've been able to forgive myself. I've forgiven myself for my lack of self control, and inability to think before I speak. I have forgiven myself for the wrong I have done. Because after all we can do, Christ's Atonement picks up the slack. When I drop to the floor in exhaustion and anguish, He picks me back up. He carries me until I have the strength to stand on my own. And on those marathons where I am too fat and out of shape to finish, He carries me to the finish. He is there. He knows me to my very core. He knows the intentions of our hearts. He is there.

"We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us." - Joseph Campbell

Modesty

Modesty... let's talk about it.

Now... before you jump all over me about this, and start calling me an apostate and a whore (ok fine... most of you don't call me a whore), I'm all for people dressing modestly. Seriously. Cross my heart, hope to die (No needles in my eye though... those mofo's give me the creeps).

But seriously, all sarcasm aside... I love it when people dress modestly. It shows the world that you show yourself dignity and respect. And it generally means that you treat others with the same dignity, and the same respect. I'm all for that. Also... take note that I did not direct any of this exclusively towards women.

For me personally, I have always dressed "modestly". I had the strapless dress at Homecoming and Prom, and the occasional tank top on the beach to show off my rockin' body, but I had always been a t-shirt and jeans; hoodie and boardshorts kind of girl. Hell... it was my mom's greatest goal in life to get me to wear anything that emphasized my womanly curves.

 

What I find ironic, is that when I was in high school, the lack of bared skin labeled me as a prude. After I joined the Church though... those bare shoulders turned me into Potifer's wife.

The Church is obsessed with modesty. It is obsessed with what women wear, or don't wear. We teach our young women that they alone are responsible for keeping the "priesthood holders" clean and worthy, and that we alone are at fault when they look at us with leering eyes. We teach our young women that modesty is directly connected with their virginity virtue, and that their virginity virtue is directly connected with their marriage potential. We teach our young women that their virginity virtue is everything, and that if they lose it, they will be a chewed piece of gum, a shattered vase, a crushed rose, and a dozen other horrific analogies.

Stop it already!! Men know how to control themselves... and if they don't... well, there's something much more serious going on. And trust me... I know that beautiful women in bikini's are hard to keep your eyes off of, but if I can keep it in my pants, so can the guys. We are all taught about inappropriate touching and respecting others as kids. Those rules still apply throughout adolescence and adulthood.

I vividly remember one of my very first Sunday's attending my Singles Ward after being baptized. I was poor. I was SO poor that ramen noodles and goldfish with a glass of water had become the center of my diet. Because I was poor, and because of the circumstances in which I moved to Utah, I did not have much to my name. I had one three year old skirt that no longer fit, and I had a bunch of my famed hoodies and shorts. I had no church clothes. But I did have dress slacks. So I wore pants before it was cool. But it was NOT cool with the Bishop, the Patriarch and the Relief Society President who was counseled to "talk to me" about what's appropriate for the Lord's house.

I was mortified. And I stopped attending my ward. The missionaries went a little haywire, and so did my roommates who were just so excited to have a new convert move into their apartment. But I stopped coming. And I went to another ward where people didn't care.

Modesty isn't about the clothes you wear. Modesty isn't about your virginity. If you carry yourself with dignity and deal with your fellow men and women with kindness and fairness, then you are living a modest life. If you strive to live within your means, and not be flamboyant and ostentatious, then you are living modestly. Modesty is about the life you live, and the person you strive to be... and it has nothing to do whatsoever with the length of your shorts, or the covers on your shoulders.