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.