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

Journey To Gay (Part 3)

In December 2011, I was at the Oquirrh Mountain Temple doing baptisms. It's one of my favorite temples in the valley, and it was here, during its open house before its dedication, that I first gained my testimony of the temple. Naturally, it holds a near and dear place in my heart. I was sitting in the area where you wait your turn to go into the font. There were a lot of people there that day... I think it was a Saturday, so I had a while to wait. So I decided to do some praying.

At this time in my life... my mission call had been rescinded only a few months ago. I had moved into a new ward, and I had been given a new temple recommend. I should have been on top of the world, but was instead in a really dark place. The only thing I ever seemed to pray about was my sexual orientation... I swear I had worn out the carpet in my bedroom from pacing and kneeling. And until this day in the temple, I had only prayed for God to take away my attractions for women, because I didn't want them. I took to heart Elder Packer's words from his October 2010 General Conference talk "Cleansing the Inner Vessel", "Some suppose that they were preset, and cannot overcome what they feel are inborn tendencies toward the impure and unnatural. Not so. Why would our Heavenly Father do that to anyone? Remember, He is our Father." (this is the exact transcript from the talk given during General Conference. You can watch the talk, and read the edited talk here.) Because of this talk, I believed that my attractions were somehow a choice... and that somewhere in my soul there was a switch that I could flip, so that my attractions would change, and that I could become sexually attracted to men, instead of women. Sometimes, I would switch my wording, thinking that that would solicit a different answer. I would ask God to give me attractions to just one man. Just one man, and he would be attracted to me, and I to him, and then we could get married, and I would finally be "normal".

That's how I prayed. It's almost masochistic. And every time, I felt the same feeling. Cold. Miserable. Empty. I couldn't understand why. So that day, when I was praying in the temple, I threw up my hands, in quiet desperation, and instead asked like this, "God... is it ok for me to be a lesbian?" And immediately after those words left my "mouth" I had an overwhelming feeling of warmth. Comfort. Assurance. Love. The feeling was identical to the feeling that I had when I first prayed about the Book of Mormon. I was stunned. There was no other emotion. So I asked again, mostly to confirm that I had heard the Spirit correctly. I got the same thing. So I went out on a limb and asked, "God, do you want me to be celibate? Do you want me to be alone?" No. A very clear no. But the Spirit continued... it testified, clear as day, that I needed to get married. That I needed to prepare to have a wife, and to have a family. 

That day, I received a testimony of personal revelation. I didn't really believe that the average, everyday person could receive revelation from God through the Spirit. But that day, I gained a testimony. But more importantly, I received a testimony that I am created just the way I'm supposed to be. That God created me in His image (or should I say in Heavenly Mother's image... but my feminism is for another day). That revelation saved my life.

I want to make it very clear, that I am not claiming to receive revelation for the Church as a whole. No way. That power lies with Thomas S. Monson, the Prophet and President of the Church, and in him alone. But, I do believe that God gave me this piece of personal revelation, because He knew that I needed it. So that I wouldn't leave the Church in frustration (which I had seriously considered). And so I wouldn't feel the need to take my own life. Because for a while, I genuinely thought that it would be more pleasing to God, to have me dead in a box in the ground, with my virtue still intact, than to continue in this life living dishonorably, and unworthily. Because I still believed, that regardless if I stayed chaste and celibate in my life, I would still be considered less worthy than the straight, married woman with 5 kids, at the day of Judgement. 

I'm not alone in my thinking. While I am no longer in that state of mind, because I have finally come to accept myself for who I am, there are countless young LGBT Mormons who are going through this line of thinking. Too high of a percentage of them end up attempting to take their own lives, and too many of them succeed. We are losing my generation of Mormons, because they believe that they have no place in this Church... they believe that God would love them more if they died, instead of living a full and meaningful life. 

I want to make a difference in the Church. I want to make a difference in my community. I want to help. I want to be a resource of Christ-like love, and acceptance. Because the only "tolerance trap" that exists on this earth, is to believe that people only deserve our "at arms reach" tolerance. People deserve so much more. You deserve it. I deserve it. Your sons and daughters, deserve it. Your brothers and sisters deserve it. The young woman in your ward, the neighbors down the street, the kid in your history class... they all deserve it. 

Love one another. Treat others as you want to be treated. These are principles that every person, from any faith or walk of life can embrace.

My Grounding, My Anchor

I hate Thanksgiving. Don't get me wrong... I love the Turkey, and the Cranberry sauce, and I might even like seeing my family for the holiday, if I was ever invited. I hate Thanksgiving because it means that I need to be grateful for something. And I'm not good at it. It's not that I'm just not good at recognizing it, or that I'm too lazy to think of something to post on Facebook like the rest of the world (which I really hate). I honestly am not good at having gratitude. 

And yes... I'm aware that this makes me sound arrogant and self centered. I've been told this on multiple occasions.

Last week, I went to Temple Square. I had some time to kill after work, and I needed a little dose of spiritual enlightenment. In the North Visitors Center, there are presentations from the Old and New Testaments, the Book of Mormon, and from Modern Day Prophets. I was watching a presentation with video clips from October 2012 General Conference, and President Monson's message was to count your blessings. When you count your blessings, most normal people will start to be thankful for them. I wrote in my journal that night, counting my blessings... And while I didn't get too far, I made a little progress. Better than nothing right?

A few days later, I asked for a blessing from my good friend Jonathon. He and his cousin Garret came over and they gave me an amazing blessing. But honestly, the blessing isn't what stood out. Garret just returned from a mission to Turkey (he helped open the mission... How cool is that?!). Turkey is a nation where the population is overwhelmingly Muslim. And while Islam believes that Christ lived, they do not believe Him to be the Son of God, but just another prophet. So he testified of Christ. Day in and day out, for his entire mission. That was his message. And while we were talking, they both testified of Christ and His infinite Atonement, and His unconditional love for us. They testified of how He should be my grounding in life when everything feels like its in free fall. He needs to be my anchor; the rock I cling to.

What does it mean to live a Christ centered life? Honestly? What does it mean? You hear it all the time in our meetings on Sunday, and you hear it in General Conference, but what does it really mean? How do we live like Christ? 

To start out, you might want to invest in some Birkenstocks, because they look like Jesus sandals...

(Ok, fine... bad joke. My funny bone must be broken...)

How do you live like Christ? LOVE!!! Love thy God with all thy heart, and love thy neighbor as thyself! Feed the hungry. Give rest to the weary, and tend to the sick. Clothe the naked, and give comfort the broken hearted. Love others as He would love. That is how you live like Christ. 

Christ is my grounding. He was crucified for my sins. He knows me better than anyone. He feels my pain and my anguish. He knows the desires of my heart. He doesn't love me in spite of my shortcomings; He loves me because of my shortcomings. He loves me more than anyone in my life ever has or ever will. He will pick me up when I stumble; He will not let me fall. He will not forget me; He will not leave me behind. He will not leave me in despair; He will not leave me comfort less.

And neither will He forget you.