Heavenly Mother, Are You Really There?

Heavenly Mother,

I thought I'd talk to you for a change.  I mean, if you are real, and are the counterpart to Heavenly Father, I'm thinking you do most of the nurturing anyway.  Most likely Dad is up there managing the business side; if gender roles are to be believed.  So you are the one who sends us good feelings and stuff.  Right? 

Mom, I don't even know if you really are there.  And if you are, is it in the way that Mormon Doctrine teaches, or is it in the way I want to believe?  Should I be talking to my Heavenly Mothers instead of just you?  I don't like that idea.  Does that make me bad?  I want to believe it is just you up there kickin it with Dad, creating worlds and children and whatever else you Celestial beings do.  Imagining you up there with a bunch of other women, being subservient to Dad, really turns me off the idea of Celestial life. 

Mom, I'm going through a faith crisis, which is something you already know; that is, if you are even there.  I love so much of the teachings of my religion.  But there are so many things that make me balk.  I know I don't understand even the smallest portion of how the universe works, but you'd think anything that hurts another wouldn't be right.  And thus, my struggle. 

Why is it that no one ever talks about you?  Is it because you are more than one person?  Do church leaders mask the idea of you because they don't want people to know that there are thousands of Heavenly Mothers to our one Father?  Do we really not speak of you out of respect?  It seems more disrespectful to me.  If I were never mentioned, asked for help, or thanked, I'd be pretty miffed.  Are you so much more advanced than I?  I mean, I'm sure you are, but doesn't it make you just a tiny, teensy bit irritated?  Its cool if it doesn't, but if you went through the pain and suffering a mother goes through, I think you are entitled to a little praise now and then.  Or gratitude, if praise is too arrogant sounding. 

Mom, I hope you are there.  Believing in you (as in one person) makes me happy.  Who doesn't like the idea of one big happy family?  Of course, I'd be happy with two dads, or two moms.  But not one Dad to a bunch of moms.   Doesn't seem right to have to share.  Maybe Dad drives you nuts, and you are happy to send him off on his merry way?  I've heard that logic before.  And while it is good for a chuckle, I can't imagine anyone really feeling that way.  Is it so hard to be loyal to only one person?  Sure, I know you know my past.  So you know I'm not perfect.  But I'm not trying to get with thousands of dudes in the name of religion either.  I'm not sure we really need that many more people to populate worlds.  I mean, take your time.  You've got ETERNITY.  No need to rush, or bring other women into it. 

Anywho.....  I've got to get about the business of my own mothering.  Thanks for letting me brush some ideas past you.  You've been a great listener.....  which anyone who may or may not exist usually is, but you know what I mean. 

Love,
Laura

Dear Grandpa

The following is the exact letter I just sent to my maternal grandpa, Elder M. Russell Ballard of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.

Dear Grandpa,

I hope all is well with you and Grandma.  I wanted to say that I am sorry if anything I said was hurtful to you.  I didn't mean for it to be, though I can understand if you are upset. 

Right now I have no testimony of the gospel.  It frightens me to say that I don't even know the place that Jesus Christ plays in my life anymore.  But that doesn't mean that I am no longer a good person.  In fact, I may be a better person out of the church than I ever was in it. 

Thankfully, I've had a group of wonderful people enter into my life since I did the Mormon Stories interview.  Yes, most of them are people who have left the church.  These people have surrounded me with love; while those who professed to be my friends dropped me out of their lives.  It has been such an enriching experience to get to know these people.  They come from various backgrounds, with many different ideas and questions.  I feel like that black and white thinking I have had my entire life has vanished.  And I am so grateful.  It is dangerous, and in the case of those struggling, with homosexuality or other issues, it can be deadly.

Grandpa, I am sad that people who leave the church are treated so badly.  I know there are no people teaching members to be unkind to those who have left the church, but there are people teaching that we have been misled by Satan.  You may agree with this, but I see it as problematic.  We are considered less than with this way of thinking.  If you leave, you are less valiant, less strong, less spiritual.  You are easily led astray by others and value your own knowledge above that of the Lord's.  I can only speak for me, but I can say that I am more humble now than I was before.  I'm more open to the idea that I can be wrong.  I'm also more open to the idea that it is okay to be wrong.  I believe that if there is a God, He would rather have us question, and learn as much as possible, before we come to any conclusions. 

Aren't we taught to seek things out in our mind, before we make a choice?  How can anyone truly say that they have a knowledge, when in my experience, LDS members (including myself) are some of the most ignorant people in the world regarding their own history?  How does this not bother you?  I believe a true test of faith is to know as much as humanly possible, then act accordingly. 

I understand that you may not want to respond.  In my mind I see you sitting there, shaking your head at my foolishness, or my "rebellious phase."  I hope you are not, because it is so hurtful to be seen as someone who doesn't think things through, when I am in the process of trying to do exactly that.  I'm still Laura.  I'm still the same girl who looks up to you and who LOVES you dearly.  I'm still that same girl who wants to do what you tell me.  I wish it were still so simple for me to do exactly that.

There is nothing more I would love than to believe 100% in the LDS church again.  I think many members who have left would agree with me.  It is SO MUCH EASIER to stay in the church than to leave it.  We leave behind family, friends, and our heritage.  We don't do it just because we are "feeling rebellious" or "in a phase".  We do it because we are following the dictates of our own conscience.  We are trying to form our own thinking patterns, and reconcile our own beliefs with what we see in the world.  So please, do not write us off so quickly with the blanket of, "These are the last days, and even the very elect will fall away."  That is inappropriately simplifying a very complicated process. 

I suppose I am reaching out for understanding.  I'm not asking for a sign, or for you to convince me of the truth.  I would certainly be open to any thoughts or ideas that I may not have had, as well as any enlightenment you would want to share. 

I love you, always and forever and no matter what.

Love,
Laura

Could It Be Me?

I'm sitting here with tears running down my face.

I suppose I write when I'm trying to focus something in my mind.  To clear a muddled head.

Right now it is cloudy with pain.  Not my pain, but the pain of others.


My faith journey has taken me to a dark place.  This is not something I'm experiencing because of a lack of religion in my life; this dark place is being explored BECAUSE of religion.

I strongly dislike sad movies.  One of the best movies ever made is one I hate; because it is so sad.  "Life Is Beautiful".  Great, amazing, fabulous film.  I hate it.  It makes me feel.  I don't enjoy feeling sadness; or having my paradigm shifted in ways that feel uncomfortable.  But I NEED those experiences, as much as I hate them.

I just finished watching a documentary about Jonestown (watch it on Netflix: Jonestown: Paradise Lost).  Here is a super quick synapsis of what it was about:

               "Jonestown" was the informal name for the Peoples Temple Agricultural Project formed by     the Peoples Temple, an American religious organization under the leadership of Jim Jones, in northwestern Guyana. It became internationally notorious when on November 18, 1978, over 900 people died in the remote commune, at the nearby airstrip in Port Kaituma, and in Georgetown, Guyana's capital city. The name of the settlement became synonymous with the incidents at those locations.
A total of 909 Americans^[1] died in Jonestown, all but two from apparent cyanide poisoning, in an event termed "revolutionary suicide" by Jones and some members on an audio tape of the event and in prior discussions. The poisonings in Jonestown followed the murder of five others by Temple members at Port Kaituma, including United States Congressman Leo Ryan. Four other Temple members died in Georgetown at Jones' command.



Depressing right?   But Oh!  The lessons to be learned from this!  At the end of the documentary, the son of Jim Jones, who was away during the mass suicides/murders gives powerful advice.  He says, "Do not separate yourself from the lessons to be learned in this tragedy.  Do not judge those who took the poison.  They are people, just like you and me, who were proving their loyalty to not only their prophet Jim Jones, but to each other."

When Steven Jones said this, I got chills.  I immediately thought, could this be me?

The reason for the chills?  The answer was YES.

My religion had my promise to give everything I own, including my life, if it were asked for.  Though somewhat uncomfortable with this, I felt that God would never ask me to do these things unless it were for my salvation.  I never hesitated to promise this time and time again.  If God wished it, it was right.  My Prophet would never ask something of me that was not right.

The people in Jonestown also felt this.

How many times have I asked myself why I was not more faithful?  How many times have I said that I would fix whatever it was about myself that needed to be fixed in order to be worthy of God?  How deep was my faith in what I was doing?  Would I have laid down my life for the cause, along with the lives of my children?

These are TERRIFYING questions to ask.  Because I do not know the answer.  Was my faith ever so strong that I could willingly kill myself or others?  Could I possibly imagine a time in a place like Utah, where people would die for the cause?

I get it.  It seems far fetched.  Dramatic even.  But it is utterly and terrifyingly possible.  And I want no part of it.

This is why I am in a dark place.  Luckily, I am never one to stay there longer than necessary. (Thank you medication!)  I will go make myself a cheese sandwich and watch a mindless comedy once this is over.  But I will not forget what happened at Jonestown.  I will not forget that people kill every day in the name of religion.  I will not forget that people are shunned, hated, and treated terribly for what people believe to be God's purposes.  This I will not forget.

To me, God is love.  God is everything wonderful, and nothing that would ever hurt another.  Nor would God ever condone slander, hatred, or murder.  I truly believe that God wants us to be happy.  ALL of us.  Not just a select few who are named "worthy".  This is my God.  I am finding Him/Her/It in this journey.  And what a journey it is turning out to be.