A Child of Light

A day when I felt like a child of light 

I've been thinking about my shadow self. The natural woman who is weak and liable to stray from love. The girl who slinks into my head to convince me that I'm 

ugly,

unlikable

and unremarkable.

She tells my heart that I am nothing to be taken seriously and that I have nothing to offer others. She critiques my posture and my appearance in general. She laughs at my attempts to create, at all my projects and plans. She holds my dreams for ransom over my head. She takes every opportunity to tell me I'm wrong or pious or small. She guilt trips me for decisions made or for choosing to have faith. Under her gaze I feel so completely ill at ease, awkward, anxious, and easily angered. 

Lately, I've let her reign. I've literally felt her hot anger boiling under my chest for the dumbest things. I've felt her sense of comparison rotting my interior gardens; seen her unbelief clouding my spiritual vision; heard her barking demand for fairness, for "justice," for recognition. I've believed some of her smoothest arguments. I've held on to her judgements. 

Doing so always has a sickening effect. 

But happily I find, as I did this week, that light casts her out. In sincere prayer I feel the Holy Spirit's comforting presence. I have to ask myself--if I really am so ugly, unlovable, and unremarkable, then why would such a beautiful, loving, exceptional, heavenly visitation happen to me and so often, and just at the moment of need or humble appeal? 

The answer comes and with the light. It vibrates over me in a joyous outpouring of loving kindness that I can feel on a cellular level. It tells me:

You are a child of light. 

You are loved and worth loving. 

You are endowed with divine gifts and you have something to contribute. 

Trust me. 

And it takes away all worry in its wake. I'm left in the warmth of its golden splendor, the comfort of pure truth, truths that feel like peace and hope.

So advice to me: when the shadow self comes, pray. The light will cast her out. And simultaneously, it will change you into a kindred spirit, giving you divine deposits of beauty, strength and talent. You need never fear. 

For Thy Good

A joyful hello to you!

Parenting taught me a lesson this week on the price of growth and the nature of love.

It happened when my little James woke up with a fever in the thick of the night. Marc and I scrambled about in the dark for medicine and then I sat James on my knees, fighting the urge to hug his hot little body. Shivering, he cried "I hold you! I hold you!" He felt freezing, but I knew that what he wanted was not what he needed to get better. As Marc rubbed a cold wet wash cloth across his burning back, and James arched away crying for warmth, I thought about how I act in the face of healing or growth of any kind.  Do I resist the medicine of the soul? Do I beg for convenience when outreach and service are the real answers to my aches and pains?

Sometimes I feel like motherhood is too demanding. I'm all dry and drained. In that moment of trying to care for a sick child at night, God reminded me that this is His work and that His love can sometimes ask us to feel a whole range of emotions that call out the best in us and tutor us to become noble and wise and selfless. I've wondered why, when I'm cold, God would give me a cold wash cloth instead of a warm blanket. The answer is that he loves His children and knows a bigger, fuller story for our futures than we do. He wants to give us something better than what we can imagine for ourselves, and sometimes the price of learning is discomfort, even pain.

I'll leave you with his wisdom regarding given by the Lord to Joseph Smith about the purpose of adversity:

 "And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good." ~ D&C 122:7

An Unexpected Feast

"And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart." 

Jeremiah 29:13

I was perusing the September issue of the Ensign magazine earlier this week, expecting a pleasant experience but nothing super special. To my surprise, what began as a casual read soon became a lovely spiritual feast--one of those exceptional meals that delights with every bite and leaves one feeling springy and renewed. Each story, sermon and essay opened some invisible hatch to heaven for me. I was bathed in exquisite, comforting warmth again and again. These were my favorite bits: 

Henry B. Eyring's thoughts on prayer. I love how he writes--so simply. He makes every word matter. Every sentence feels so intentional, natural, gentle and true. He especially inspired me to continue a culture of fervent prayer with my kids. Each morning we say an opening prayer over breakfast to bless the day with kindness and patience and joy. Some days I feel like maybe what I'm doing doesn't matter. But when I read President Eyring's words, God told me that it matters more than I can possibly comprehend. I also felt endowed with the energy and strength to be more genuine in prayer and more receptive to God's loving counsel. I felt assured that He is there. 

I loved the suggestions given on marriage from an anonymous therapist. She talks about how many people may have stable marriages but oddly few couples actively try to better them. I loved that she said to talk to your companion about what you hope your relationship can become in five, ten or twenty years. I saw a flash of what I hope to be like for Marc and that made me see areas in my behavior that I can ask for heavenly help to change. I noticed spiritual gifts to seek out. My favorite thing she said was actually a quote by President Howard W. Hunter. I don't have it in front of me at the moment but it went something like "everything that Jesus puts his hands on lives...if he puts his hands on your marriage, it lives...if he puts his hands on your family, it lives..." That rang true to me. Especially in the sense that when we keep our covenants, the divine nature enters our relationships and makes them holy. Suddenly I saw that being sealed to someone for time and all eternity means being able to enjoy a perfect, God-like relationship because of keeping covenants that let the Lord bless it into that kind of living organism. 

I also loved an article written by a temple sealer on marriage. Someone asked him why the temple endowment dwells so much on Adam and Eve if it is supposed to be about Christ. He responds that it is the story of two people accepting the atonement. It shows us how to accept it and make it an active agent in our lives. He references the temple's use of altars as symbols of sacrifice. His words really opened my mind up to appreciate the temple and what it can teach me about the purpose of life and partnership and parenting and the process of being refined by the spirit. 

I went to bed feeling as light as a feather. The spirit is such a delight, and such a need, really. I don't realize sometimes until I feel replenished by it, how thirsty I was, how limp and starving. But I find that it is there, again and again, waiting patiently for me to receive it. I know God is so aware of our spiritual needs. He will come to us, especially if we invite Him in. Inviting Him in can start with a simple gesture, like asking a question in prayer and actually waiting for a reply, or sitting still after reading a scripture, or serving a friend, or even just glancing over the Ensign at the end of a long day. 

The Deepest Doctrines

Lovely reader, hello!

I've been thinking about this speech given at a FAIR conference a few days ago by a rather young woman named Cassandra Hedelius. It impressed me by its frankness on the subject of something she refers to as Mormon Gnosticism: an attitude or belief system of practicing or non-practicing Mormons that emphasizes personal revelation and "deep doctrines" lost or unknown by the general body of the church and de-emphasizes the need for prophets or an organized church. By constructing a scriptural framework for how revelation is received for the church, Hedelius demonstrates that the notions of Gnostic thinkers do not hold as truth under pressure.

Upon reading it, the spirit really cleared my mind and energized my heart. This paragraph particularly sung to me:

"There are no 'deep doctrines,' because there are no shallow doctrines that we can outgrow and deemphasize. The deepest doctrines are faith in Christ, repentance, obedience, and service."

I have to admit that there have been and sometimes still are times when I think I'm a better thinker or a more spiritual person than my fellow church members. Reading this helped me want to reach out and be kind and serve in the church rather than judge or withdraw from others.

It also made me feel more grateful for the first principles and ordinances of the gospel, for simple, beautiful truths that cannot crumble. Truths like Jesus Christ is our savior, or the perfect doctrine that because of Christ we can repent and be clean. I'm grateful for personal revelation. The gift of the Holy Ghost is a stunning and real power that gives incredible comfort, guidance and protection. I'm equally grateful that pure authority to perform saving ordinances exists, that the living Christ speaks today--and clearly through a church. I'm grateful this church exists to turn hearts toward each other. The spirit really does inspire sociality and unanimity. I feel peace in these things and wanted to write them and leave them with you. I guess there is so much more I could say about it, but sometimes less is more.

True Love

Dearest reader,

For the past couple of months I've been thinking about what marriage means, why it matters, how it is kept and cultivated. 

I think  it matters because it's everything. And it is kept and cultivated by true love. 

What do I mean by everything? I mean that life without it is unfathomable. I can't imagine a world of individuals.  If no one married. What would a world like that look like? Feel like? I love what commitment and home-building do for two people and for those spirits they bring here.  I love how such a commitment  can help grow souls in all the divine ways. 

I have my temptations and fears. My what-if panic attacks. But I know that when I'm at my best I feel fall-on-my-knees grateful for someone who loves me even at my weakest, who blesses me at my frailest and cries and worries over me at my darkest. 

Swelling love spills out of my frame for this man who creates new, sweet life with me, who laughs and talks with me sometimes into deep, wee hours without even noticing the time pass, who tells me to forget my cellulite--that I'm stunning.  I feel privileged to wake up to tend to our babies with him, to call him home, to see him growing crow's feet on the edges of his eyes.  I love the way he says sorry, the way he sighs about how good people are and the way he tends to trees. He is truly completion to my soul. I  see how we unlock each other's potential. All of our experiences, feelings, disagreements, mistakes, make ups--all seem like colorful threads in the tapestry we are weaving together. He is my everything. 

But I don't know if that would be true without the gospel of Jesus. 

Moroni 7:45 has been a guiding star in teaching me the ways of true love. It says: 

And charity suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

I'm still marveling over these words since I read them this weekend with the context of marriage in mind. They are perfect. It is this quality and consciousness of love that makes a meaningful marriage. I've been thinking about how important it is to stay soft in spirit when I'm angry and want to clam up. Or how helpful it is to lift his burdens and put him first when I might be so tempted to pursue my own thing.

I love this quote by Elder Faust: Marriage is the joint quest for the good, the beautiful and the divine. How true.

So in the name of love, enjoy this talk by Elder Holland and these words by M. Catherine Thomas.

Heirs Together of the Grace of Life by M. Catherine Thomas

And happy five years to my beloved Marc. May there be many more to come.

Christian Buoyancy

Hello! 

What a week it has been. Since it is late Sunday evening and I am absolutely ready for bed I thought I would just share a favorite quote and a lovely link. Enjoy these words by Harry Emerson Fosdick and Elder Enzio Busche:

 "Some Christians carry their religion on their backs. It is a packet of beliefs and practices which they must bear. At times it grows heavy and they would willingly lay it down, but that would mean a break with old traditions, so they shoulder it again. But real Christians do not carry their religion, their religion carries them. It is not weight, it is wings. It lifts them up, it sees them over hard places. It makes the universe seem friendly, life purposeful, hope real, sacrifice worthwhile. It sets them free from fear, futility, discouragement, and sin---the great enslaver of men's souls. You can know a real Christian when you see him, by his buoyancy."

On Zion

Reader dear, I hope you've had a lovely week. Mine was sleepless as the kids were often up at night with colds, but it had its bright moments. And now we head out to Lake Tahoe for some good fun. After this week, goodness knows I need it.

                                

Amongst the week's weeds of fatigue and chaos, I grew some thoughts on peace and beauty. It was Pioneer Day in Utah on Friday--the day we celebrate becoming a state and all of the people who gave their hearts and lives to its cause.That made me think about why the Mormons crossed seas and swamps and rivers and plains to come to this desert valley. I can only imagine that it was because of a kind of dancing zeal for Zion that lit up their insides with hope for a better world and energy enough to create it. How did the ambition plant itself there in so many wild hearts? I think The Book of Mormon had quite a bit to do with it.

Lately the text has come alive for me in new ways. I've been noticing more and more that Zion is the record's principle concern. The authors and prophets aim to teach us readers how to bring it about. Every vision and story and speech speaks of it or points to it in some way or another. Lehi's family searches for the promised land--this is Zion. Lehi sees his family partake of the fruit of a tree that makes them happy--this is Zion. The people of King Benjamin cry with one voice "apply the atoning blood of Christ," and feel no more disposition to do evil--this is Zion. Holy prophets testify of Christ, that he can cleanse us and heal us and give us peace--this is Zion. When the people of Nephi become of one heart and one mind, equal in all things and made partakers of the heavenly gift, alive in the spirit, knit together in love--this is  Zion. The rest of the record is about the tragedy of loosing Zion to the horrors of sin. Nephi, Mormon and Moroni urge us to be wiser than their societies have been. The last verses of the final book of the record include a tender plea for the daughter of Zion to strengthen her stakes and to enlarge her borders, to come unto Christ and be perfected. All is the work of at-one-ment.

I love this deep and vast vision. I can see why this book's words stirred believers to sacrifice everything for it,  the kingdom of God, that pearl beyond price of which Jesus himself  so ardently spoke. The early saints who came to the Utah territory were filled with this Zion spirit. It's how they made a desert blossom, by embueing the ground with the love of God and neighbor.

I have seen how the gospel of faith and repentence and covenant keeping brings this spirit into life. My heart marvels over how deeply and consistently The Book of Mormon has something to teach us about individual and collective oneness with the divine. It is the scintillating star for today's saints, those who still strive to build Zion within, at home, and abroad in this last dispensation. Do we take it to be such?