Blog
Updated Church LBGTQ
Today’s updates to our church’s policy on matters of baptism and blessings and marriage in the LGBTQ/Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints brings me joy and peace. What once was black and white in my mind and heart is now a garden full of compassion, love, empathy, and strength. I’m sharing what I wrote about the original policy back in 2015. I love my fellow humans. I am grateful to be a traveler on the adventure of life, with all of its ups and downs. You matter. You are loved. You are welcome in my congregation and in my circle of friendship. “I was born of a gay father and faithful LDS mother. The great storms of identity development and security were rocked as I learned that my dad died from AIDS when I was just ten. He left the church right after my birth and lived a homosexual life in New York City. I remember confiding in a just a few friends the real origin of my dad’s death, there were layers of shame and fear and loss and sadness. I didn’t feel safe enough to be vulnerable to everyone, but there were a few golden friends who were my lifeline during some hard years. Life moved on and I grew up. It wasn’t until I was married with my own family that I appreciated the vast pain and betrayal that my mother must have felt. It wasn’t until I saw my sweet husband father our children that the profound pain of missing my own father was realized. What I know with every fiber of my being is that Jesus Christ is my Savior. I have felt his love and healing balm on my broken heart. He is infinite and wise. He has already absorbed the pain, the hurt, and the challenges of my life. My heart is forever anchored to him. Two, Trevor Southey taught me a sweet lesson, “There is bad in the best of us and good in the worst of us, the best we can do is to not judge one another.” And, “the most important religion of our times is that of kindness.” Third, I sustain our prophet, Thomas S. Monson. He was s a good friend of my grandma Joy’s. One by one he took each one of her great-grandchildren at her funeral on his knee for a handshake and a photo. He is a servant of God, a wise and kind man. Many of God’s followers have been required a heavy toll of faith. I do not believe that the trial of our faith will be rewarded with a meager offering, we are asked to bring a broken heart and a contrite spirit. For many in the church, there is no sacrifice for obedience and faith in following the new policies. For others today there is a heavy price. I empathize and pray for/ with you. Let us show a little more kindness, to the teen struggling with SSA, to the wife/husband whose marriage just died, to the children who aren’t sure what all this means, to the faithful followers, to the leaders of the LGBT community, and to the leaders of the church. There are no simple answers for a struggle that is so profoundly contradicting. The only...
read moreBrain Tumor Anniversary
It was a year ago today that Jonny and I took the final steps into the hospital, where our lives would forever be adjusted to that moment, for good or ill. One year ago Jonny’s head was opened and an acoustic neuroma brain tumor removed. One year ago that his severed nerves would be a daily reminder to the life saving and altering course. One year ago that I was reminded poetically and majestically of God’s love for us, individually. One year ago that our path took a winding turn through the gift of ministering, for without others I fear we would not have survived. Since that time I have seen countless miracles. We have received care from at least 30 nurses, two surgeons, one physical therapists, one acupuncturist, two massage therapists, and a functional medicine doctor, and two doctors who specialize in pain management. There have been; 28 acupuncture appointments 40 or so medical massages 10 PT appointments 4 blood draws 1 MRI 10 functional medicine appointments 4 pre-op appointments 5 day hospital stay 4 Surgery follow ups Countless medications and supplements. No flour, no grains, no potatoes, no fruit except blueberries and raspberries, lots of meat, lots of fat, lots of veggies. Yes, to dark chocolate too! Combined loss of 65 pounds between the two of us. We received, at least 45 meals from friends and family Our lawn was mowed at least 14 times Dandelions treated Freezer filled twice Groceries bought Kids cared for and entertained Anonymous money dropped off Gift baskets delivered Gift cards provided Secret Santas Ministry visits Priesthood blessings Referrals for doctors House renovations & remodel to remove mold I am sure I have missed some act of kindness in this list. I know there was more! Pain will most likely always be part of Jonny’s daily routine in some form or another. Despite that, things are better. Jonny’s aunt RuthAnn remarked just last week that she thinks that the word better is the best word in the English language. Better days and better moments are the prizes we hold onto while enduring grueling transformation of character and soul. In stark contrast to last year, two weeks post op he made his first walk to our mail box. His head was spinning, he carried a cane for balance. That wiped him out for an entire day. He was on opioids for the first month for acute head pain. When the pain didn’t go away 8 weeks after surgery we began looking for more healing. He slowly added steps to his journeying. After another week he was able to walk to the end of the coldisac. Then another week later to the end of the street. He carried that cane with him for 5 months. Sometimes for balance, and sometimes just for a cue to those around him that he needed space. We visited the pain clinic, and received the diagnoses of occipital neuralgia (chronic and acute pain caused from nerve damage) and found a list of medications and treatments that often left his head reeling and a nauseating slew of side effects. With the help of some family members we found a functional medicine doctor who has been a God send. I love her! She has transformed every angle of our lives with...
read moreTrusting and Having Faith in the Lord to Get Us Through the Challenges We Face
There is charcoal colored volcanic rock scattered across St. George. At the very top of Snow Canyon is the remnant of an ancient, and now dead volcano. Recently we gathered our four kids ranging in age from 15 to 4 and made our way around on the ice cream swirl trail. The hike started with a small incline as we twirled around the back side. About halfway up the trail, the path took a sharp turn straight up the mountain. The view from on top of the mountain was breathtaking! While the entire trail was only 3/4 mile one way, we stood onto of 4,800 feet gazing southward towards the breathtaking fiery red cliffs of Snow Canyon. After a short adventure on top, it was time to make our way back down the mountain. Looking down at the steps we had climbed was overwhelming to our four-year-old, Ben. He gazed at the gravel path that he needed to climb down and immediately shrunk. “Daddy, I can’t do it,” he cried out. “Ben, I’m right here with you,” Dad said. “I promise I will keep you safe.” “No, I’m scared,” Ben declared, as he bent his knees in attempt to plop on the pumice. “Hold my hand; we will go down the trail together. Trust me.” Jonny held out his right hand and grabbed ahold of my little one, who was in no position mentally to proceed. Fear washed over his face, and his body imploded as small as his dad would allow. In one quick swoop, Jonny scooped Ben off the ground, and carefully caressed the small boy in his strong arms. While I waited for the big kids to finish their exploration. After they landed, they found a place to sit and enjoy some goldfish crackers and a juice box. For those who know our family, the fact that my husband could go on a hike like this is amazing. In June of last year, Jonny was diagnosed with a benign brain tumor called an Acoustic Neuroma, about the size of a walnut. On August 1st two surgeons successfully removed the tumor with near textbook perfect outcome, or so we thought. His facial nerve is entirely intact! He kept half of his hearing in his right side and now wears a hearing aid. His spinal fluid never leaked! He did lose his balance on his right side, which has been an interesting adventure to recalibrate. We were so relieved. We soon realized that the unbearable headaches that were expected to last a few days turned into weeks and then into months. With the help of many healers, including acupuncturists, massage therapists, and pain clinic doctors we are working to find relief from debilitating, chronic headaches caused by nerve damage from his surgery. In a moment, when life on the surface looks ordinary, mundane and regular, a volcano erupts, and everything is changed, broken, burning up and wrought with fear. Now, I know that if I asked people to raise their hands who have had a brain tumor removed, we might have 1 or 2. But that doesn’t mean that the trials you have faced and the challenges you have overcome are less significant or difficult. What if I asked people to raise their hand if they, or someone...
read moreChristmas Letter 2017
Dear Family & Friends, What a year it has been! It is an understatement to say that this has been filled with significant obstacles and challenges, but has equally been a witness to the service, compassion, and kindness of others. We couldn’t let the Christmas season pass without sharing with you our gratitude for your love and support. We also wanted to share with you a few of the miracles we have experienced and lessons we have learned with Jonny’s diagnosis, surgery, and recovery from his Acoustic Neuroma brain tumor. The first thing we have become acutely aware of is the mighty and beautiful plan our Heavenly Father has for us. There is a grand tapestry of life; highlights and contours, color and space that at some point will be unveiled to showcase a breathtaking masterpiece. While my human nature abhors the thought of living through those dark days, I now understand that it is just part of the Creator’s plan. Evidence of divinity in our experience includes miracle after miracle; from finding the right ENT doctor, getting insurance approval for the best neurosurgeon, and an A+ tumor removal. Heaven felt so close, as we were surrounded by angels both physical and heavenly, especially in those first days at the Neuro ICU, and when Jonny came home to begin his recovery. As a result of the surgery, he now suffers from a condition called Occipital Neuralgia, which is acute and chronic pain on the nerve which runs up and over his skull. He is currently working with many healers, including massage therapists, acupuncturists, and pain clinic doctors. This year we discovered that relying on our strength is a perfect way to become exhausted and overwhelmed. We have been compelled to call upon Almighty God and our loved ones for sustenance. You have listened to the whisper of heaven’s errand and reached out with loving words, patient ears, hot dinner, frozen meals, childcare, carpooling, supplements, gift cards, inspirational CDs, clarinet repair, lawn mowing, cleaning, financial support, prayers, fasting, visits, ministering, priesthood blessings, counsel, laundry fairy services, bagel runs, and secret Santas, just to name a few. At just the right moment, and in the perfect way, because it was how God asked you to serve; I have learned that doing something is always better than doing nothing. Even the smallest acts of faith and generosity have been a lifeline of energy and hope. We have learned to focus on what we are good at, to create healthy boundaries, and that time is a gift. We are striving to be positive and not to get discouraged. I have come to know the voice of Heavenly Father as I was prepared before Jonny’s diagnoses that a trial of great magnitude was coming. I believe God’s word and his power to heal, to watch over, and to provide, as Jonny endured a season of excruciating suffering. I have also been surprised at the feeling of joy and happiness I have experienced during this time. We have watched our children grow in tenacity and joy. Although we have had a difficult trial this year we are not isolated in suffering. We have become aware that there are so many who struggle, who cry in their secret places, that feel far from heaven’s light. It...
read moreShepherd’s Field
It was a hot August day in 1998. I drove on a blue and silver tourist bus with my BYU Jerusalem class out to Bethlehem where we had a chance to visit the Church of the Nativity. My instructor warned us before we went into the dark and rank church not to focus so much on what we were experiencing, but try to think about the events that we were honoring that day. Gold plated lanterns with matching draping-chains covered the walls on the ground floor. Incense drowned out the smell of old must as we descended into “the exact spot that Jesus Christ was born,” where an elaborate gold 12-spiked start strewn across the rock floor. Everything about this place was dark. Dark walls, dark stone, and dark chanting from other religious believers. It was literally a breathe of fresh air when we left the church to visit Shepherd’s Field, where modern day shepherds play the ancient role from the nativity to watch their flocks. Huge boulders and small rocks dot the landscape on this dry and mountain/valley terrain. Bethlehem sits on a hill adjacent to the one we are on, and the true spirit of Christmas transcends space and time as we imagine the angelic visitors who declared Christ’s birth. “And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.” Luke 2: 13-14 After a short devotional, we are given time to write in our journals. So I take my paper and pen and pull up a stone. Grateful for the small flashlight I brought, because the sun set and all we have above me is an ancient blanket of stars. If I gaze hard enough I can see divinity in my mind’s eye. It was the new star which marked the place for Christ’s birth, of which guided the Wise Men to find Mary and Joseph. The melodies of Silent Night dance on the air, thanks to a student who gifted her talent of playing the violin to us. The spirit stirs up feelings of gratitude for this place, for our moment here, and the record found in the Bible of this spot, the city set on a hill, the city of David, where it was long foretold that Jesus Christ would be born. His celebratory birth preluded his great suffering, not just for me, but for all mankind, as he lived, taught, organized and atoned for us all. I imagine myself in those heavenly choirs with loved ones, as one of millions, who stood valiantly singing in celebration. We rejoiced at the Savior’s birth, because all of our eternity rested on his shoulders, to save the world from sin. “Hark! the herald angels sing, Glory to the newborn King! Angels offered warning, counsel, guidance, protection, ministry and music throughout the Savior’s life. Angels beckoned Mary to follow God’s word in becoming a mother, Joseph heeded their counsel to provide and protect his betrothed. It was an angel of the Lord that testified to the lowliest of society, even the shepherds to come honor and give glory to the baby Jesus; as well, angels warned Joseph of danger and guided his small family to Egypt...
read moreBorn into the Kingdom For Such a Time As This
No stranger to turmoil, Esther was orphaned when her parent’s died. Taking the roll of father, protector, teacher and guardian, her cousin Mordecai also shared his devout Jewish practice with his niece and raised a daughter unto God. Descendants from the tribes of Judah and Benjamin, their ancestors, back 4 or so generations, were exiled out of their homeland of Jerusalem during the Babylon captivity. Now living in modern day Iran, they were part of the vast Persian Empire, which spanned from Egypt in the west, to Turkey in the north, through Mesopotamia to the Indus River to the east. King Ahasuerus was the leader of an army of over 2 million. His lineage of authority was responsible for vast battles, massive takeovers and innovative growth. After banishing his own wife for refusing to be summoned upon his command, the King was in search of a new mate. The game was set, without the cameras of modern day television, roses of choice like seen on the Bachelor, this reality show was designed to allow the king to choose the finest womanhood in the land to adorn his arm and produce offspring. (Mind you he already had six children from his first wife.) Beautiful Ether won the heart of the King and became the Queen. “And the king loved Esther above all the women, and she obtained grace and favor in his sight more than all the virgins; so that he set the royal crown upon her head, and made her queen instead of Vashti.” Established in the house, with servants, with adornments and wardrobes, she was his servant, she was confined to the rules of the authority of her husband. While I wont’ go into the full account of events leading up to the tumultuous story and painful future of the Jewish people, sufficeth to say, the entire Jewish family was in danger of total annihilation. The Prime Minister, Haman plotted to destroy all of the Jews because Mordecai refused to bow and worship the power mongering Haman. A decree went out into all the land, that on a specific day, all Jews were to be slaughtered. Pleading with his cousin, Mordecai exclaimed, “Think not with thyself that thou shalt escape in the king’s house more than all the Jews. For if thou altogether holdest thy peace at this time, then shall there enlargement and deliverance arise to the Jews from another place; but thou and thy father’s house shall be destroyed: and who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” Esther gathered her courage, for her husband did not know she herself was a Jew. “Go, gather together all the Jews that are present in Shushan, and fast ye for me, and neither eat nor drink three days, night or day: I also and my maidens will fast likewise; and so will I go in unto the king, which is not according to the law: and if I perish, I perish.” Esther prepared both spiritually, through fasting, and physically, by exemplifying her beauty. She petitioned her husband for relief from the burden of destruction. He complied with his wife’s wish of protection. The initial decree which went out among the entire land encouraged the slaughter of all Jews, everywhere, now was...
read moreEnduring the trial of the Rocky Mountain pass, then and now.
I arose on Saturday morning after a night of many awakenings; my mind wandered to a holy landmark. It had been nearly two weeks since my husband had surgery to remove a benign brain tumor. At 16 years old I traveled with the youth from my stake on a journey to remember our pioneer ancestors. Pioneer Sheroes Early Mormon saints were driven out of their homes and land by extermination order in Missouri, and then again in Illinois. They were murdered, women were pillaged, and the Prophet Joseph was dead. Expelled from the safety of shelter, they were barren and desolate. First across the great Missouri River, on the threshold of winter’s crystal grasp, then onto the muddy and miserable Winter Quarters. Miracles ennobled the desperate saints, and through the gifts, they lived, at least some of them. The next season brought a new goal – reaching the hidden valley, what soon would be an Ensign to the nations, even the great Salt Lake. And yet, for many men, counted at 500 and a handful of women, as requested by United States President James Polk for the Mexican War, their journey wouldn’t be alongside their wives and children, but as soldiers, to show loyalty to the country that allowed the extermination of its people. The Mormon Battalion’s march started in Council Bluffs, Iowa on July 20, 1846. The 1,850-mile journey took them across the country to San Diego, California, and back to their families, who had, at that time arrived in Salt Lake in the summer of 1847. The wives of those soldiers bore a heavy toll – first to survive the death fest of disease through a long and grueling winter, and then to make a solo journey across the plains with the Saints to the Salt Lake Valley. Their sacrifice to live and love through adversity gives me great strength to endure my trials, even those that may seem trivial in comparison. Modern Day Pioneer Trek – Women’s Pull When we replicated this experience at Pioneer Trek, there were several hundred teens and adults. We used a large handcart to pull provisions for our family of about 12. Youth from our stake included both boys and girls, and a Ma & Pa. On the end of the first day, after we had completed 7-8 miles of our intended 14-miles, we were coming up on the hardest part of our journey. There was a long, steep incline, while my memory has faded, I imagine that this section of the trail was close to a mile forge up a rocky, dry, hot slope. Both the men and women, girls and boys, experienced in a small way the trial of separation. Leaders instructed the young men not to talk, while they could help if they chose, they could not touch the handcart. At first, it was merely a game, as the boys enjoyed taking a break from the hot and slow hike. The girls mustered their courage and looked ahead at the daunting task; make it to the top of the biggest hill with half the numbers from their family. The handcart was full; we carried our food, tarps, water, spare clothes and a few tools. We all took a station; some at the front pulling a large rope, that...
read moreGrand Council In Heaven: The Cost of Love
Long ago we gathered together as spirit children of our Father in Heaven, in the grand council. While my mortal eyes prevent me from remembering, through scripture, revelation and the spirit, I can image that we gathered in a grand hall; and at the great Elohim, our Father at the focal point. Just as President Monson presides the church here on earth, adorned with his faithful counselors; Jehovah, known in mortality as Jesus Christ, our Savior and Redeemer stood to his right, and the Holy Ghost, the great spirit to his left. We were taught in love and light. Great eternal truths were shown, and heard, and seen. And yet, with just our spirit, we could continue to progress no farther. And so we gathered, and a plan was shared. Father taught, “Children, it is impossible to share my plan of happiness, without you first understanding how much I love you. You were conceived in love and reared in truth. Your spirits have enjoyed the eternal and unending light that comes from pure love and divine power. I have given you everything I possess that you are capable of receiving, but there is so much more.” I sat on my chair, hanging on every word. My Father was my greatest teacher, and my truest friend. My brothers and sisters sat around me; many whom were dear comrades and beloved friends. I felt excitement and wonder. Father was talking about us receiving more. All I knew was where we were, to think there could be change brought about a sense of wonder and curiosity. “I have a plan that includes opportunities for all of my children. We will create a world. This planet will be beautiful, filled with all types of animals, and plants. There will be water and land. There will be stars and the sun. We will fill the earth with goodness and life. The purpose of this world is to provide a place of learning, and opportunity to prove you. You will receive a body of flesh and bone, as I have. You will have the opportunity to live with families and learn of your own free will and choice.” “You see,” he continued, “you need a place, apart from my presence where you can learn and grow; where you can make mistakes, and learn to repent. You need to have a world, separated in forgetfulness, where you can choose for yourself right or wrong.” Happiness filled my heart to the brim! I could only imagine life on earth, with a family. I would have a mother and a father. There would be a husband and my children. There would be aunts and uncles, and cousins. Heavenly Father’s body was different than mine. He was full of glory and light. His body was matter, where mine was only spirit. He is beautiful! Words cannot describe the pureness and holiness that emanates from his frame. I wanted to go to earth, and become like Him. Father explained, “Because you will make mistakes, which are a tool to learn and grow; and because you will sin, as a result of disobedience to my commandments, I will provide a Savior for you. His life will fulfill the demands of justice, and provide a way for you to repent, and return...
read moreMaking Friends with Despair
It was another Sunday, another weekend, another week. Another endurance of medical problems, illness, financial struggles and despair. I thought life was going to be different than this. I never imagined that at nearly 40 I would continually be facing greater and greater challenges. On our weekend date, my husband and I drove around a lot. We talked a lot. I cried, he doesn’t like that. He was frustrated with my despair. I didn’t like that. I have this burden I have been carrying, this load of worry, of struggle, of stress, of anguish. I am carrying the load of nurturing our four children, of providing financial and emotionally. And when my husband felt better after a string of health crisis, I cracked. It is as if, everything I am carrying can be “ours” and I lose it. I have been trying. So. Hard. I read, and and I pray, I write and and I say… all in the name of freeing this feeling of despair. It creeps in like a sneaky child, it stays like a sticky slime, it laughs like the crackling of a melting witch, it grasps and clings like a desperate, shunned lover. It pulls me down into a weight of sorrow, of grief and loss. But is this mine? Where did it come from? I know I am meant for more. For greater life than all of this loss. There is so much to be grateful for. So much to be thankful for. So much to work towards. Today I am working on making friends with despair. Why? Trying to push it away, pretend its not there, or expel it through venom only anchors it to my soul. It may go away momentarily, but comes back like a stretched and tight elastic band, snapping me into the past’s pain with startling accuracy. If I can make friends, and understand the gifts of this feelings, then I can let it go, and learn from the experience. One wanderer’s ending…… A few weeks ago, a friend from our previous neighborhood posted on social media that her father had passed away. She spoke poignantly of the grief she felt. But didn’t include the details of his abandonment, her estrangement from him, his divorce from her mother, and the subsequent events in his life. I called a friend and the worst possible scenario came into light. He took his own life. In the years prior to his passing, his despair anchored him more and more deeply into the darkness. I can imagine Lucifer’s minions laughing as they pulled tight the chords of hopelessness and fear. Upon an unexpected meeting with a mutual friend, this man choose to walk away, not even allowing a passing conversation of friendly hellos. What does it take to come to that place? What orchestration of deviousness is required to devise a finale of such tumultuous magnitude? What feelings lead the carnal man to feel self loathing required enough to snuff the flame of life, in exchange to abandon life’s misery? Despair. The evening memorial service was a gathering of friends and families, on top of Wasatch Boulevard’s mountain park. The pavilion opened its view to the east, overlooking the base of Lone Peak Mountain. The spring landscape, which had been plentifully watered all...
read moreLittle Girls Running
I walked my daughter to school today. Her small hand firmly grasped mine as we took the quarter mile journey to first grade. Older sister is in middle school and older brother had to be there early, so it was just the two of us. The bright early morning sun was just cresting over our majestic Wasatch Mountains. Looking east was blinding, except that when my eyes were closed I could feel the warmth on my skin as the light radiated through my eyelids, making my closed eyes see red. We walked along the busy road, I waved at neighbors who were driving to school. The dog’s bark startled me, even though I knew it was coming. A nasty chewed up tennis ball had rolled to a stop, probably the day before, off to the side of the sidewalk. I wonder who overshot the throw for the eager pup. We crossed at the street, and gave a warm greeting to the crossing guard, a mid-aged comely female, with a friendly smile. Ally still held tightly onto my hand. We walked up the small hill to the school, gave a greeting to the 5th grade crossing guards as we walked through the teacher’s parking lot, and passed the kindergarten courtyard. Along the back side of the red brick, one story school is where my daughter lines up for class. One 1st grade girl besides my daughter stood as sentinel in a line of 15 abandoned backpacks in my daughter’s class line. Each bag was a marker for where little feet would stand in just moments after the bell rang. I image crumpled papers, homework folders and sack lunches inside: notes from mom, signatures for field trips and crumb remnants of breakfast, as little bellies were fed with a piece of warm buttered toast. For the moment the high-energy littles were running frantically on the playground before morning studies began. A small group of kids were playing chase. The boys were clustered in a small circle, which was actually painted yellow on the black top. Outside of the central circle were two other larger circles, almost like the orbiting line of planets rotating around the sun. When one of the boys got enough courage mustered he would run out of the center, screaming as a enthusiastic, boy-crazed girl would chase, until she tagged him, at which point both of theirs eyes would light up and a scream would ensue. Nothing changed, except they were tagged, but they still ran, and the girls squealed. Eventually, the boy would run back to their safe zone and the little girls would star gaze happily at the boys, and wait for the run. My sweet daughter stood fervently by my side. She showered me with hugs and kisses as we waited for the bell to ring. Shyly she avoided making any kind of contact with a boy who came in line after us. He had confessed his crush on her earlier that year, and even invited her to his birthday party. She was abhorred at the thought, and I kindly refused the invitation to his mother. So I was the wall, and she shimmied behind me, we pivoted as he made his way in line, and then promptly left his BB8 backpack at my feet,...
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