I
love this recording by Petula Clark.
Unfortunately the video is actually quite boring to watch. Thus I’ve include the lyrics by Tony Hatch
and Jackie Trent so you can follow along as you listen.
Life is never what it seems
We're always searching in our dreams
To find that little castle in the air
When worry starts to cloud the mind,
It's hard to leave it all behind
And just pretend you haven't got a care
There's someone else in your imagination
You wish that you were standing in their shoes
You'd change your life without much hesitation
But would you if you really had to choose?
So, don't look around
Get your feet on the ground
It's much better by far
To be just who you are
The other man's grass is always greener
The sun shines brighter on the other side
The other man's grass is always greener
Some are lucky, some are not
But just be thankful for what you've got [ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/p/petula+clark/the+other+mans+grass+is+always+greener_20316218.html
]
Many times, it seems to me
There's someone else I'd rather be
Living in a world of make-believe
To stay in bed 'til nearly three
With nothing there to worry me
Would seem to be the life I might achieve
But deep inside, I know I'm really lucky
With happiness I've never known before
And just as long as you are there beside me
I know that I could ask for nothing more
Then living can start
With the love in your heart
So, with you all the time,
All the treasures I've longed for are mine
The other man's grass is always greener
The sun shines brighter on the other side
The other man's grass is always greener
Some are lucky, some are not
But I'm so thankful for what I've got
My mom has dementia. Normally I visit her
on Tuesdays and Thursdays. This week I
happened to drop by on Wednesday evening as well. Since she had seen me three times in a row, yesterday morning I
jokingly asked, “Are you tired of
me showing up on your doorstep?”
Quite relieved, she said, “Oh, I’m so
glad you’re here. I’ve been by myself
all day!” It was 10:00 a.m.
“Well, [Corey]’s here,”
“No.
[Corey] went to Las Vegas. And I
don’t know when he’ll be back. But it
sounds like he will be gone for a long time.”
“Well, his car’s out front.”
“Oh, is it? Well he must have taken the train to Las
Vegas” {There is no train from Salt Lake to Las Vegas – not that I know of}
“I think he’s here. He’s just still in bed.”
“No. He got up early this morning. He’s gone. And I don’t know when he’s coming back.”
It’s sad to see her so sad and
distorted. I knew that Corey was there –
but I wasn’t going to wake him up to prove it.
And there was really no point in trying to convince her otherwise. So I just let it go.
She appeared to have wanderlust. I asked her if she would like to go for a
drive. Something. Get her out of the house. I wish I would have thought to take her to
the senior center. I never think about
it when I’m with her.
She said she couldn’t drive {for the
umpteenth time} said her driver’s license had been taken away and that she had
to go to somewhere in Draper to get it back because they took it from her {as
if they had stolen it} “. . . but say they will give it back if I come get it. But how am I supposed to get it if I can’t
drive? Stupid people.”
It’s
all I can do to keep from laughing.
She then changes the subject to her first car – “you know, when we were
living in San Francisco.” I have never lived in San Francisco – but somehow
she thinks all of us lived there. She
really was raised in San Francisco and sometimes will talk about where she
lived as though I am familiar with all the landmarks and streets and so doesn’t have to add further
explanation – yet whenever she talks about her family she explains like I am
not familiar with anyone but her “There were two of us that drove. One lived north of Dudley Stone {an elementary school that went up to the eighth grade - when she wasn't driving} and I lived in the
other direction. And so she would take
people who lived north and I would take ones that didn’t live north. Remember?”
I
actually was familiar with some of the names she used just from her own
resources given in years gone by – only I don’t know about the car pooling
part - though I'm positive that she wasn't driving while attending Dudley Stone. It’s true her step father had
purchased a car for her – but I don’t think it was until after high school.
“My mom and dad were divorced. My dad was mean. He used to smack my mom around. I was scared of my dad {I think she was} but
he ended up with this other woman. I
don’t know if they were married. But she
called me one day and told me that something was wrong and so I went over to
her house and my dad was laying on the lawn and he was dead. I don’t remember what happened. I think I went to find the police and they
took him away”
It’s
true that my maternal grandfather and his second wife may have lived in
California for a while – but had moved back to Utah sometime before my mom had
turned thirteen – as she was thirteen years old when her mother put her on a
train to Utah so that she could visit with her dad. He didn’t die until several years later –
He didn’t die until after mom had
married and given birth to three children.
We had even gone to the funeral.
I remember my brother, Patrick, looking into the casket and asking, “Why
is that man in a box?”
He died in a small town in Utah. But mom believes (with every fiber of her
being) that her father passed away on the lawn in California when she was a
driving teenager
“And my mom was 90 when she died – Oh,
you are not going to believe this – my mom died at the cemetery while she was
visiting . . . I don’t know who she was visiting – but she had family in the
cemetery and she died while she was visiting them. And they called me and told me I should have
her cremated and they threw her ashes over the graves that she was visiting.”
I
had to throw my hands over my face so she wouldn’t see the laughter I was
trying so hard to hide. First of all the only person my grandma would have
known in said cemetery was my dad. She,
herself, did NOT have any relatives there.
Nor did she ever visit the cemetery to my knowledge. My maternal grandmother died at Cottonwood
Hospital. And she was in her 90’s – I
think that and cremation are the only parts my mom got correct.
The
cemetery doesn’t strongly advice cremation just because a person’s body was
found lifeless over some headstones that they presume are family members. Nor are ashes scattered over headstones. There is a certain procedure that takes place
in “scattering one’s ashes” and it had been grandma’s wish to be scattered in
the ocean. Mom had received some
pictures that were taken on the east coast (Maine, I believe) to show her where
the ashes had been scattered. Whatever. We take it upon faith that it was done, but
we don’t really know
She has lunch with a friend the second
Thursday of every month. They had met in
San Francisco but had learned that they had both been born at the same hospital
in Ogden. She says they were in the
hospital at the same time {I don’t know
how much of that is accurate – especially since she says her friend’s birthday
might be in July and mom’s is in June} and that her friend lives up the street
but she’s not sure which house (probably because her house is NOT at the end of
the street – though the two really are living in the same city and have lived
in the same cities at the same time)
Corey was home. Mom was very surprised. And happy.
While there are some things that my mom truly
does remember and the details are truly real, there are just as many “myths”
that have entered into her mind and have become just as real (if not, more
than) the memories that really did happen. Not a very reliable source, my mom.
It’s sad to watch her fall into another dimension. And I sense her slipping further into this “marshmallow
world” and there’s nothing we can do to bring her back to reality. I think it's highly probable that my mind may be visiting that same world that mom is now. I hope for my family's sake that death may claim me before my mind does. And I hope that they will be at peace with that. I think the mind-slipping thing is a lot harder to deal with.
Shortly after Roland was called to the
bishopric, he was asked to summarize a talk that had been given about the
conformity of testimonies and submit it to the monthly newsletter – which
actually didn’t exist before this particular bishopric.
Now there are a few people in the ward who
tend to drone on and on until the gratitude that is felt in their hearts turns
into penetrating boredom on the part of the audience. Every ward has them. They start off by expressing what it is that
brought them to the podium – and then they take us on a stroll down memory
lane, or into their health, or into their entire week. Gradually the testimony gets lost in their
words. And all eyes turn to the clock
and you can almost hear a chorus of silent groans.
Sometimes there is a dead silence and
often times the droner just feels it’s his (or her) duty to fill the silence
while the audience wonders which is worse: the silence or the droning on and
on.
Today it was announced in each first
meeting (primary, Relief Society and Priesthood) that if one spends more than
three minutes at the pulpit than it is no longer testimony. And we are reintroduced to five subjects that
should be topic of one’s testimony.
I get it to a certain degree – the timing
thing. Sadly, it doesn’t seem to
register with the ones who are guilty of running off the mouth. And though I do have a testimony of the five
given subjects, I don’t always feel inspired to share – especially because it
now seems so conforming. I like to hear
individual experiences and a brief history of the belief – but not by just one
individual for the whole entire meeting.
Sweet Jeff got up to bear his
testimony. He’d written it down so that
he wouldn’t stumble. And yet he
did. He is a member of the special
Olympics. They treat him like he
matters, but not all people do.
Our ward mission leader quickly followed
him up to the stand, and stood by his side.
The words he used were non-conforming and perhaps out of line with what
a true testimony is – but it was real.
It was genuine. And as he teared
up with his plea for prayer support, the ward mission leader stepped closer to
the mike and finished reading what Jeff had written.
Before Corey had even decided to go on a
mission, my dad had had a series of strokes.
His brain wasn’t able to communicate to his muscles quickly enough to
have them do what and when he wanted.
He had a one or two minute talk, but it
had taken him an entire minute just to get out the first sentence. Corey lovingly put his arms around dad and
asked him if he (my dad) would like Corey
to finish reading it. That moment
between Jeff and our ward mission leader triggered those memories. I started bawling. But it was actually a good memory – for there
had been so much gratitude on my dad’s part – it shined as he told Corey “thank
you.” And I wasn’t the only one
crying. Those who didn’t cry (if any)
were definitely in the minority.
Shortly after Jeff sat down, a couple came
to the stand. Roland and I often refer
to them as Frank and Marie Barone –though he is certainly way more humble
than Frank could even dream of.It’s
just the constant bickering they seem to do with one another.They genuinely do love one another.And perhaps their arguments are just playful
on their part (well at least on his) it still doesn’t seem in harmony with a
happy marriage.
He got it.
His testimony was short, sweet, covered at least three of the
subjects. He was very humble. His testimony was genuine. It was nice.
His wife didn’t drone on as much as usual
– but she did drone. Time to sit down,
Marie. Oh, I would not want the bishop’s
job for anything.
I enjoy watching the second
counselor. His expressions often mirror
my own thoughts. He looked like he was
trying to keep from laughing while the bishop painfully checked the clock. She finally sat down without his inviting her
to do so.
Overall, it really was a nice
meeting. Not a lot of conformity. I must say I liked that as well. I realize that I do not go to meetings to be entertained. But the heart gives me more focus than guidelines
do – though I really do understand their purpose. I just think it’s sad that so many of us have
to be asked to conform because there are individuals that just don’t get it –
even with the guidelines.
When Jenna and her classmate left the
car this morning, they were talking about doughnuts – more specifically
doughnut holes.
I took Highness for a walk and smiled
as I thought at a memory about disappearing doughnuts.
My brother Corey and I are nine years
apart. We seem to share a lot in common –
particularly food habits. Eating
whatever is quick or handy. Our kitchen
skills were not the greatest. Plus we both appeared to be on the lazy side.
We also have a brother Patrick – who is
two years younger than I and our baby sister, Kayla, who is thirteen years
younger. They are both survivor’s. And both were quite comfortable in the
kitchen from an early age.
When we were younger, we used to taunt
Corey by saying that Kayla could be out in the dessert and live off the land;
she would never go hungry. Corey, on the
other hand, could have starved to death less than three feet from a fully
stocked refrigerator.
Afterall she was four and he was eight
when he ran down the hall to our mom’s bedroom.
“Mama! Mama! Kayla is making toast!”
“So.”
“But I’m older than her. And even I don’t know how to make toast.”
I don’t recall how old Corey was when our
family received one of those novelty doughnut makers. It was actually quite a cool product
according to the late ‘70’s standards.
Patrick had made dozens of doughnuts (note: only two doughnuts can be
cooked at a time) and Corey decided that it was going to be his turn.
He had asked my mom if he could make
doughnuts. She said “no” – but he
pressed her. I don’t know if she finally
gave in or if he just chose to disobey.
But the girl from across the street had come over and he decided that
they would make doughnuts together.
He obviously did not follow a recipe as he
used at least one cup of baking soda.
The doughnut batter had already been poured into the doughnut maker when
Patrick and his friends (also from across the street) and I watched as he tried
to impress Becky with what would be the first doughnuts he had fully made by
himself.
The look on his face was priceless as he
opened up the container and the batter he had worked so hard on had disappeared
– except for a tiny bit of residue in the bottom. Becky lovingly scooped up what was left and
held it to her mouth and tasted it.
“This is really good,” she said in a
pathetic attempt to make Corey feel better.
The look on mom’s face was quite
hostile. She had specifically told Corey
NO and there was really no way we could salvage the rest of the batter (did I
mention he had doubled the recipe?) and
we all sensed that Corey was going to get a beating so severe that we might all
feel the pain from it.
But then Becky’s brother laughed about his
own memories and said, “It’s alright Corey.
We all make mistakes” and then proceeded to spit out every bad thing we
had ever done – burning experimental dinners, hiding food (I specifically remember
half a roast and a turkey) in his room and then forgetting about it (but an unpleasant
odor would reveal what he had done and he would get into trouble for it),
lighting the grass on fire . . . the list went on and on.
It was quite a few years later when my mom
said Becky’s brother probably saved Corey’s life that day. You’d think after all those horrifying
memories she would have wanted to strangle us all – except she was laughing
with us. Except for the grass fire. That had been way to close to the house.
I think Corey and I have both gotten
better in the kitchen. Still not our
favorite haunt. But we won’t die of
starvation. I don’t recall what happened
to the doughnut maker.
When Corey started his Blog over six
years ago, he gave himself a false identity.
He’s since been discovered by some, and I know from my own mouth there
are even more that know the nature of his true identity. However, because he hadn’t revealed his true identity
on his Blog (there are certain individuals he still feel might need protection having
their real identities revealed out of connection) I decided to keep mine anonymous
also.
I have changed the names of most of
those I have or will mention. I started
out using “Cody” instead of “Corey” but “Cody” was/is his name, not mine. So I changed it. And now it doesn’t seem to matter one way or
another. He’s out and those mentioned
may not need his protection anymore – though he continues with his name and
only partial pictures.
I also keep myself anonymous for fact that
Roland’s ex-wife is a sue happy individual – and I’ll leave it at that.
I often write things that sound a bit
odd to me and ask for Corey’s assistance on changing the wording or grammar or
whatever. One was the idea for a post
that I didn’t think I would ever post. But
he told me I should and asked if he could borrow some of it for his own
Blog. I was flattered.
So I added two pages to the two pages
I had already sent over. I created a
post and attached it on February 26, 2012.
I was surprised to see that Corey posted the entire thing instead of just
“some of it” as I thought. He called it
“My Sister’s words and an Endorsement” I had called it “We all Feel Excluded atTimes”
At the End of Corey’s post, he refers
to my Blog as a point of Interest. That
was nice of him. So it’s provided a
little bit of exposure – though it may have without his mentioning it in his post
– because the name of my Blog appears in his side bar as one that he follows.
I have followed a couple of blogs that
have stopped. Life got in the way for
one – and pressing issues for another who has to sort out a mess that was
created and somehow relates to her blog and so she is waiting for the right
time to change everything to something better and hopefully more secure.
Both have had guest bloggers. The latter said she was searching for
humorous stories and has always given me credit for the ones she has used. It’s
an honor having been mentioned on a few blogs themselves and not just in the
comments.
I would also like to thank those who have
commented thus far. When my window says,
“You’ve Got Mail!” it’s nice to see it
is a comment from an actual person and not just another advertisement. Thank you Corey, Heather and Kris.
Recently I was googling Individual
Worth in search for a proper definition to use in one of my posts. As I went searching I pulled up a few blog
sites with inspiring stories which I would like to share and reference.
I came across an object lesson given
by Stephanie Waite in which she laid out various belongings on a table and
asked her class what each object was worth and what made them valuable. Some of the objects were perhaps expensive
things and some objects may have been more valuable to one than to
another. But the particular object that
may have seemed worthless to most individuals was probably the most valuable
thing on the table in the eyes of its initial owner.
It actually reminded me of an object
that is close to Jenna – a stuffed dog she’s had since she was 6 months old –
though the toy itself looks like he’s been around much longer than she has.
It’s been restuffed twice and has had matted hair cut off – never to grow back
again. But Jenna loves it. It’s her baby. It’s her lifelong friend.
Recently she allowed her cousin to
“borrow” it – a huge sacrifice on her part.
But Kayla (my sister) was not all that thrilled about inviting Jenna’s
beat up toy (which really is clean – but appears to be unkempt) into her house
and chose to leave it in the trunk of her car.
What makes something or someone
valuable? Love? The kind of love that makes you valuable no
matter what. No matter how beaten or
ratty (inside or out) I loved her
post. I loved her explanation. And you can read the full post here.
Stephanie’s last post referred me to another
blog. I read a post that could fall into
the category of Choice and Accountability.
What a tough decision to be made – and yet what remarkable faith and
strength that would help so many others.
Collin Presley had health problems
from the time he was born. He outlived
his disease by twelve years (from my understanding) but died shortly after a
new medication was given.
Their first thought was to sue the
doctor. Collin still had life with the
old medication. Surely someone had to
blamed for Collin’s death – but an autopsy would have to be preformed to
provide proof. Doing an autopsy would
upset the organs which the family wanted to donate to those who were still
fighting the fight. A battle with attorneys
would have been so costly. It wouldn’t
bring Collin back. On the flip side his
organs could be donated and bring life to others. That was the choice they faced. You can read more of their story in this post though I
recommend venturing even further with prior posts
Katy Pluim amazes me with her short
sweet posts as she deals with having only one arm. I am so impressed with the things that she has taught herself that I struggle with having two arms. She is a beautiful person with a husband and a three year old (almost three) daughter. Here is one of her earlier posts on dealing.
Unfortunately I did not copy the reference
for this next story. I tried going back
to my initial research and to Google–ing with the given subject, but more sites
were brought up than I cared to wade through.
My apologies to the blogger (though there are many more resources for
this particular story:
“More than one hour after the gold-medal
athlete had crossed the finish line during the marathon in the 1968 Summer
Olympics in Mexico City, John Stephen Akhwari of Tanzamia entered the
stadium. Only a few spectators remained
as the lone runner appeared. The
athlete’s leg was injured and bleeding.
He was dehydrated and confuse. As
he crossed the finish line, the small crowd cheered in appreciation for what
would become one of the most famous last-place finishes in history. But it
wasn’t the runner’s performance that caught their attention – and the attention
of thousands more during the almost five decades since. It was his desire to finish the race, to
endure to the end. After the event in
1968, a reporter asked the runner why he had not quit the race since he had no
chance of winning. The Tanzanian athlete was confused. “My country did not send me to Mexico City to
start the race,” he replied. “They sent
me to finish”
I actually shared this next story in
Relief Society when the instructor asked the class for comments about
Integrity. What goes around comes
around. I think this is a really great
example.
And finally one idea to teach in
classrooms – though children are more accepting and perhaps this ought to be
applied to all adults as well Stop the
bullying already. We are all different.
Embrace the differences.
How great it is to have so many great
insights and so many who support one another through their blogs and create
ideas and share. Thank you!
Before Roland and I moved from our first house, he
introduced me to the reality show “Chopped” a one hour show that gives four
chefs the opportunity to create appetizers, entrees, and desserts using four
specific ingredients – most I haven’t been familiar with or think of as too bizarre
to belong with either the rest of the
ingredients or in the particular round.
I would think that there is more than
eight hours of footage for each episode of “Chopped” – thus it is not just the
chefs competing who get “chopped” but the editing as well. It sickens me to know that all this wasted
footage exists – that so much tape ends up on the floor. The expense that goes into these reality series
(Wife Swap is another example) and all the waste. I could really use the money that is spent on
wasted film. So many Americans could –
especially in this economy that seemingly continues to spiral downhill. Where are the priorities of this nation?
I think Rock Center handled “Mormons in
America” well. Some accused of focusing
too much on the small percentage that “don’t really represent the entire church”
well guess what? It’s that small
percentage that the world will be looking at. And I think it’s wonderful that
it has been presented to the world (or nation anyway) that there might be a
better understanding.
Abby Huntsman does not represent the
entire Church. Who does? Some criticized that the creators of the
program should have gone to the authorities or at least devout members to for a
more accurate understanding. But we are
a very diverse people – even among ourselves.
The gospel values are true regardless of its members. But the members are not perfect. We are not all cut out of the same mold – and
the world needs to know that there are struggles that many members face that
don’t always correspond with what the gospel principles teach.
I think the documentary was handled very
nicely. And I think Abby did a great job
letting people understand her position but still being respectful of the
Church. She probably has a better hold on what a non member might feel. There are many who have left the church who
experience that “ah-hah” moment after they’ve been away for it – not that they
disagree or become uncomfortable – but all the sudden understand the meaning of
“a peculiar people” and understand the non-members view – whereas those who are
so close to the surface don’t have that same understanding. They don’t see the forest for the trees. Corey explained it a little bit in this post
There are many members (or former
members) who have had their feelings hurt for whatever reason. Treated like outcasts. Overaggressive concern isn’t handled
correctly either on the part of the leaders or the interpretation of the member
(I think more of the first; as an example Abby’s bishop told her that she
wouldn’t receive the same blessings – and although it may have been said out of
concern – it hadn’t been communicated in a proper manner) I like the way Clive Durham said it in this post
Bishop, stake president, and other
leadership positions are held by people.
Imperfect people. Some, who unfortunately abuse their power, some, who
should have never been put in that position to begin with. Some who would rather not be there and wonder
why the position was accepted in the first place.
Julienne (sp?) and Al Jackson do NOT
represent all members. A large majority,
perhaps. But certainly NOT all
members. Mitch Mayne is told he can keep
his position in the Church so long as he remains celibate. Celibate?
Really? In a Church that pushes
marriage and family? (And there are many who actually do push)
That was Corey’s plan - to remain celibate
– though he wasn’t fulfilled. He would
have been able to keep his membership – but still not feel whole – not complete. He did NOT go in search for a partner. Truth is, when they initially met, he tried
to avoid it.
Their first encounter together was working on the same production in Las Vegas. The two of them started out with a casual dinner, but after a while Corey's feelings deepened towards his partner. He started to have feelings that he had been told all of his life were wrong to have.
Corey returned home from Las Vegas the
first Christmas after they had met.
Relieved in some ways not to be tempted by something he had been trying
to avoid all of his life. Yet torn
because he really did have emotions for this guy. And what a wonderful guy he is. I really really do like Corey’s partner.
Eventually it turned into something
very beautiful. Both celibate. Both wanting to wait. Both yearning for God to be a part of their “marriage”
and I have no doubts that He is. Corey
had to give up his membership. But he
did not give up on the gospel. He still attends
Sunday meetings (minus the priesthood which he was never comfortable with in
the first place) and though it’s often hard for him not to be able to
participate to the fullest – Corey is happier than he has ever been in his
entire life.
Corey is very knowledgeable in the gospel. He is very well rounded individual. He doesn’t represent the entire Church – even
when he was a member. But he does make
an impact. A GREAT impact. He has a very strong and beautiful
testimony. He is one of many pioneers on
a path that is slowly being smoothed over and more widely traveled – and yet
too many who are on that path feel alone and unwanted and aren’t always handled
with care. Corey, fortunately, has had
amazing support. Yet it seems to be a rarity with far too many.
We have a friend who is strongly
opinionated and probably more of a feminist than Joanna Brookes. She is married to one who has been on the
high council as well as other prominent positions. Both strong in the gospel. Each representing what sometimes appear as
conflicting ideas. And I love them
both. And I respect them both. And I am personally grateful for the
diverseness.
Roland has often told me about
different dreams that he’s had and always concludes with, “What do you think it
means?”
Dreams are just that. Some are bizaare. Some are wonderful. Some you hope to never “dream” again. And perhaps some do have meaning. Truthfully, I don’t place too much value in
dreams. I think that is how God
communicated to his children at one time – and perhaps still does to some –
though I think the methods of communication have broadened sufficiently since
then. My personal opinion is that, overall, dreams really don’t mean a whole
lot.
Still, I often have crazy dreams that
I will write down or share just because they are so bizarre. And sometimes I ask myself what would have
caused me to dream it. But I never go
into depth about the possible symbolism that may (or may not) exist.
Last night I dreamed my nephew-in-law
was getting married. The strange part
about my dream is that I don’t think it was to my niece – though I don’t
remember getting a good look at the bride’s face. But physically she looked too short and not
quite so thin as my niece, Ellen. Actually I don’t recall remembering any of
the wedding party – except for my niece (Ellen’s sister) who is currently in
junior high right now.
I believe the marriage itself was in
the temple. I know I watched them get
married. And suddenly everybody was
changed into picnic casual – except for me and my niece – though her skirt and
vest were a lot more casual than the white strapless dress that I was wearing –
a dress that was pretty, but one that I personally would NEVER wear in real
life. Not in front of others
anyway. Not to a picnic. And certainly not to the temple.
And suddenly my thoughts turned to
weddings past and things that had been missed out on. I tried to shut it out. I was tired.
It was early and I wanted to sleep still. But I finally got up and turned on the
computer and started reading through many of the comments left on this post.
So often we allow ourselves to feel
unloved, useless or unwhole because of certain comments made in society or by
the Church. We are told that we need to
fit into this perfect mold, this compact Mormon box – and if you have feminist
thoughts or same sex attraction or if you don’t go to the temple a certain
amount of days or if you wear open-toed shoes without hose to Church or if you
don’t volunteer for at least every other canning assignment – well, you just
don’t fit into the box and you need to repent and turn your life around. And if you don’t, you are not worthy of the “Mormon
Box” Club.
The young women of the church are
taught values.One of these values is
Individual Worth. This is defined as individuals, each with her own divine
mission which she will strive to fulfill – “for the worth of souls is great in
the sight of God”.
I don’t believe he is looking for carbon
copies but expects us to be true to Him but also true to ourselves – even though
sometimes the two may seem to conflict.We still have to find what makes us happy and stay true to who we are
meant to be regardless of path others may follow or think that we should
follow.No matter how we act or what we
do or who we are or how we dress – we will NEVER PLEASE ALL PEOPLE – we all
have our own differences, our own personal taste, our own individual
worth.It’s important that we remain TRUE
TO OURSELVES.We have all been given the
same guidelines but are still free to make our own choices and receive our own
personal revelations.
And sometimes these personal revelations
may conflict with the teachings of the Church – or our own interpretations of
those teachings anyway. My brother gave
up his membership to be with his partner – someone he would like to be with not
just on this earth life but throughout all eternity. It is something he
pondered about and struggled with for a long long time. And he knows (as well as many others) that the
decision made was right for him. But the
path that he’s on may not be the right one for all homosexuals. He’s on a divine mission with several bumps
in the road. God has given him that
unique gift of smoothing the path that others may follow. He is a pioneer.
Neither Corey nor his partner chose to feel same sex attraction. Really, why would an individual
subject himself (or herserlf) to choose being shunned, misunderstood, or have
suicidal thoughts because he or she does not measure up to Club Society or the Mormon
Box? Why would one choose to be closeted
and live life in fear because the feelings and emotions that one may experience
don’t jive with what is being taught. If
one does decide to come out of the closet, he or she risks being rejected by
friends, family members, society . . . because why? Because there is that desire to be true to
oneself and to be accepted and not ridiculed for not measuring up? So they are not entititled to the same
blessings anymore? Seriously? Is that really how God works?
Stake Conference is in just a few
weeks. It is most likely that a new
president will be announced. My husband
may be considered for the position – perhaps NOT as the stake president but a
counselor maybe – though it is the president who will have to pray and find
revelation to call his own counselors – Roland is being considered.
And here I am not wanting to jeopardize
his enthusiasm but still feeling desire for Corey and others to feel more than
just a sense of belonging verbally (though many don’t even get that) – but to
continue with membership if they so desire – to be able to take the sacrament
again. Especially when they are so
strong in the gospel in Spirit – but their names have been removed, their
membership diminished. And still there are many who remain closeted and hope
the feelings will go away, that they don’t bring shame to anyone, who try to
live up to the Church’s expectations but are not happy with themselves.
It wasn’t until after I returned from my temple
recommend interview that I questioned myself – had I answered the questions honestly? I had at the time that I gave them. It came so automatic that I hadn’t questioned
it at the time of the interview. But I
suppose I do sympathize with a group whose teachings are different from what is
taught in the LDS Church.
Thus far I haven’t acted upon it – such as
campaigning for their cause by going door to door or holding picket signs or
what have you – and probably wouldn’t because of Roland’s position. He doesn’t have the same understanding that I
have acquired. And I did have to acquire
it – for I once agreed with every single message I’d received from the leaders
of the church and would ask no questions.
Now I view the homosexuals as a fellow Christian trying to save her
Jewish friends during Hitler’s reign.
Will society make the homosexuals put
bands upon their clothes – similar to the star of David (perhaps a rainbow –
God’s sign of promise) – so that we will know?
Will we all the sudden treat our family and friends like lower class
citizens – as though they are less important?
Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God. The worth of ALL souls not just straight
souls, not just green souls, not just female souls . . . . fortunately God’s worth
is so much greater than that of men. For
God is not the one who labels us and classifies us into categories of tolerance. We are all worth more to Him than men can
even comprehend.
Recently (on Youtube) I watched excerpts
of Oprah’s interview with Neil Patrick Harris and David Burtka and viewed it as
such a sweet relationship and thought of what a remarkable love went in to
planning their offspring and how incredibly blessed they all are. And yet they have surely received criticism
by many who refuse to understand, who refuse to see the miracle that has taken
place between them, who view them with Pharisee eyes. I really appreciate Oprah’s
“ah’hah” moment that she shares in the last 15 seconds of this video.
A straight couple can have an unwanted baby
on accident, but a gay couple has to plan and save and jump through legal
hurdles to have a child, and so I would think there would be more love invested
in that child (or children) We’re
people. We are all people. We’re not star bellied sneetches – though many
of us act like we are.
