Home

Home. It's a concept that I've referenced in various ways at various times here before. As a child of a naval officer we moved frequently, and as such, home tends to be a fairly fluid concept for me. I have lived and loved in many places, and I hope to live and love in many more. As I type I have the computer set up on top of my suitcase that soon needs to be packed for our journey home from visiting family in BC. From one home to another. Home.

I haven't exactly been secret about my struggles of late. Be they in regards to motherhood or disciplehood, or as a member of the LDS church. Secrets and I haven't ever really gotten along. My husband likes to joke that I would make the worlds worst spy (and he's right). I tend to live my life fairly openly and this blog has proved a safe and creative form of expression for me, for which I'm grateful.

This morning we attended church with my sister and brother-in-law and their family. And the choir sang a number that I have heard before, but for some reason pierced my heart especially today. The lyrics are as follows.

My shepherd will supply my need:
Jehovah is His name;
In pastures fresh He makes me feed,
Beside the living stream.
He brings my wandering spirit back
When I forsake His ways
And leads me, for His mercy's sake
In paths of truth and grace.

When I walk through the shades of death,
Thy presence is my stay;
A word of thy supporting breath,
Drives all my fears away.
Thy hand, in sight of all my foes,
Doth still my table spread;
My cup with blessings overflows,
Thine oil anoints my head.

The sure provisions of my God
Attend me all my days;
O may Thy house be my abode
And all my work be praise!
There would I find a settled rest,
While others go and come.
No more a stranger or a guest,
But like a child at home.

The last two lines of the song are repeated amid swelling voices and music, and the effect is quite striking. But almost more than the music (and the music IS stunning. Seriously. Go youtube it now!) the words hit me. In my last post I mentioned repeatedly (more than I think I meant to. Maybe I need to work on my editing. Or just not post so late at night?) how much I find a home in the gospel. That is absolutely true for me. And I love it. I want for my relationship with my Savior to be more important than anything else. One of the speakers today referenced John 21 where Christ returns after His resurrection to find the apostles fishing. Which they likely were doing because...well...what else were they to do? Christ was gone and fishing had been their profession. I'm sure I would have done the same thing. They fish all night and they catch nothing. A man comes and tells them to cast their nets on the other side and they catch, literally, more than they can handle. It's at that moment that Peter recognizes the Lord, and he's so excited he literally can't contain himself, and so he jumps from the boat to swim to shore. Sometimes I wonder. If it were me, would I be afraid? That I hadn't done or been enough? I yearn to be like Peter. To be so overcome with my excitement that I can't wait another second to embrace my Lord and Savior.

I don't always feel at home at or in the church. And I'm pretty ok with that. I don't lose sleep over it. Luckily, it's not a requirement for membership. I sometimes think that I stick out like a sore thumb for my at times outspoken opinions. Sometimes I feel less put together than my counterparts (what other 28 year old mormon woman do you know that can't figure out a curling iron to save her life, has never used eyeliner, and doesn't own hairspray. I am a rare and lazy breed). But especially lately I feel less at home when it comes to hot button issues like women and the priesthood, or the church's treatment and association with gay people that I love. And I have struggled as I have watched many friends and acquaintances, who I love and respect, leave because they feel thay they can no longer make or feel a home in the church.

As I heard that beautiful hymn sung I held my baby and wept. Because I realized that where many issues are concerned, I DO feel like a stranger and a guest. I don't freely support the policies and many aspects don't sit well with me. There is much to learn and discuss, and believe me when I say that I am....but outright, immediate support and acceptance has not been my reaction. I have never been a detail oriented person. Mercifully my husband is and so he compliments me well in that arena. But...if I can be like Peter, if I can feel like a child at home in my Savior, if I can unabashedly run into His arms like my three year old son does when his dad returns home from work, I don't feel like I'm lacking. I can put the rest aside and breathe until an increase in knowledge and understanding comes. Because with my Saviour, with my brother, I can feel at home. And if I can do that, then what else matters? If I am making and keeping my covenants, if my home is in Him, and in the gospel, I think, I hope, I pray, that that can be enough.

I want to make it my mission to help others find that same home, because the rest? I think it's just noise. And I don't want to focus on it. As much as possible, I don't want the noise to keep me up at night. Home is a fluid concept for me. But I want my primary home to be in my Saviour. And I want to invite as many other people over as I can. I'm not much good at it. But here's to hoping I can turn this weakness into a strength.

Processing

I bet you thought this blog was just for updates on my life as a mom of two cute boys, huh? GOTCHA. Sometimes I hijack it to ponder, process, and write about other things going on in my life outside of my family. Not often, but sometimes. And I think that this is one of those times.

It's been just over a week since the information about the LDS church's update to the handbook regarding the baptism/blessing of children of gay parents was prematurely leaked. Just over a week since the internet (and my feelings) exploded. And while I don't intend to say much more on the matter, I've had so many dear friends, and even some acquaintances, reach out that I feel obliged to put to paper/blog where I'm at, what I think, how I feel, and what I believe. 

Perhaps it's my age, perhaps it's my personality, or maybe it's even a sign of the times but it seems that more and more the church is taking firmer stances on certain issues. I love the gospel, and I love what it brings to my life. It is home to me. But it seems that quite oft of late...I feel the earth move beneath my feet. And when that happens it's a cause for me to pray, ponder reflect, and discuss with those that I love. I remember once when I was at college one of the main contributors to the Joseph Smith Papers came to give a fireside to address and unpack many of the criticisms regarding Joseph Smith, and especially the first vision. It was an enlightening evening, but a theme that he kept returning to was the importance of being a "seeker". I distinctly remember sitting in the audience and thinking to myself "but that sounds like so much WORK! Just tell me what is true and I'll believe it!". Isn't it lovely to be innocent and 18? I don't feel that way anymore. The ability to hear and to believe without question is no longer something that I can easily do, and sometimes I envy those I know who can. It seems lately that I...fit the mould of the standard mormon women less and less. And I have no problem with that, I really don't think it's a negative thing in any way. In fact, I think it's a really good thing. But along with that it seems that increasingly often now it seems my lot in life is to really fight things out. Ask God, sometimes repeatedly, learn from those around me that I love and respect, and, as best I can, be led by the spirit. Is it more work? Absolutely? Is it worth it? A thousand times yes! Because the victory of finding and knowing the truth for myself...of finding new ground to stand on is a sweet experience, and it is mine to own.

These last two weeks haven't been easy. A sick husband, a teething baby, a toddler who seems to relish pushing his boundaries, a new policy, and what seem to be countless terror attacks have been cause for a great deal of thought and introspection. I'd be lying if I said that my heart didn't feel a little more tender than usual. I'd also be lying if I said that this new policy was an easy one for me to digest. It absolutely was not. I love my home in the gospel. Because it IS my home in more ways than any other place. There are some things I know, others that I believe, and a great many more that I don't know. But a rhetoric often repeated by many people that I know is "it was released by the brethren. We sustain the brethren, therefore we sustain the new policy". And while I believe that there is a great deal of wisdom and logic in that line of thinking, my thoughts and feelings aren't quite so linear. At the end of the day, this policy, no matter how well intentioned, is divisive. I have gay family members  and friends, and I love them with a fierceness that I defy anyone to challenge. They are without question some of the very best people that I know. And it pains me to know that the home that I find within the gospel, is not a home as easily made for them. It hurts me that in order to not be considered apostate by this new policy that they are required to remain celibate. That isn't something I could ever ask of anyone. It hurts me that any marriage undertaken by them is one that my church doesn't recognize. And so I guess it shouldn't be surprising that the church would discourage the baptizing and blessing of their children as well. And if it hurts me, I can only imagine how much it would hurt them. Do I understand the logic? Yes. Families are the most important thing, and it would be difficult, to say the least, to not have church teachings be congruent and supported by home life. I understand. But that doesn't mean that I don't have deep empathy for those for whom this effects. It is more suck to what already feels pretty sucky. I believe that instead of being defensive, maybe compassion could rule, or at least temper the day. 

A few short weeks ago I had the opportunity to bear my testimony. I tend to think that those are opportunities to share our victories in the growth of our testimonies, a time to share what we know while coming from a position of strength, and often that is the case. Of late I've been wrestling with enough issues that mine isn't usually one of strength. If anything it's been me trying to remain humble enough to find the answers that I'm looking for. And bit by bit, they are coming. But lately as I've watched some pretty disastrous things happen in the world, and in the lives of those that I love, I've realized that...the ground that I've won I am still holding. The things that I knew before I still know. I still know that God lives, and that He loves me. I still know that He hears my prayers and, more often it seems, is waiting in the wings to answer and hold me. I still know that I am not alone, and that I matter to Him. They may be simple truths...but my knowledge of them hasn't changed. And perhaps that is a victory in itself. Some answers come slowly. And some might not come in this life. I'm learning to be more cognizant and comfortable with that. As the ground beneath me shifts I am finding my footing. But I don't know that that is as true or easily said for those that I love who struggle with their sexuality because the home in the gospel that I love...I imagine would be a less easy home for them. And so I want to offer my love, my empathy, and my compassion. It isn't much. It is paltry. But it is all I have to offer, and I offer it freely.