When it Comes to Forgiveness, Seek First to Understand

I'm not certain why it caught my attention, nor do I recall where I saw the words, but it has remained with me for several days now:

Seek first to understand, then to be understood.

The meaning behind such simple words has been indelibly marked into my soul over most of my life, at first like an etching made with a pocketknife into a piece of wood, only growing deeper with the passing years. The desire to be understood by others is a hallmark of humanity, of our individuality. To know someone cares enough about who we are and why we think the way we do can be marvelously affirming. It gives substance to the inner thoughts and ideas we constantly carry around in our heads. Indeed these ideas, beliefs, or whatever else may be roaming around in the confines of our minds, when validated or dismissed by someone other than our self, will form so much of who we become as more years go by.

One little act by another person, to put aside one's own ego long enough to discover what makes another person tick, can change lives. While we appreciate the effort someone takes in understanding us, we must strive to do the same for them. Do not ask someone to do for you, what you are not willing to do for them.

It seems like such a simple task, doesn't it? The recent election for president of the United States would certainly not lend toward such thinking. Instead it shows what too many of us are apt to do - assert our own beliefs, citing our reasons for insisting our way is the best way, but not taking the time to listen to the beliefs of others when those beliefs contradict our own. Nor do we want to hear why they think the way they do.

It's not only in politics that we see this happen. It can occur within any relationship we experience. Sometimes we are at fault, not taking the time to understand where others are coming from. Other times we are the ones who suffer because someone else refuses to understand.

This was me just a few days ago. What I am about to share with you is not done in the hopes of wanting to hurt another person - I won't share any specific details, nor is it to find validation for my own side in this, but rather my hope it to share why the above quote seemed to have been given to me as a reminder of why I should, and can, forgive this woman. Because I understand where she is coming from.

My friendship with this woman has never been an easy one. It is, for the most part, one sided. I have had to put up barriers once before, but as she appeared to have many good things happening and had a much happier countenance I thought we could give being friends another try. For a while it went well. We attended the temple a couple of times together. We chatted at church as well as online. From my point of view life for her appeared to be a happy one.

I got sick over this last weekend. It's just a cold, but one that refuses to go away. While I'd been a bit better on Monday, Tuesday I was miserably exhausted. Around 11:30 in the morning I fell back to sleep and didn't wake up until around three in the afternoon. I received a message from this woman saying she showed up around 2, knocked and knocked and knocked but I never answered, tried calling but I didn't answer, and she was clearly upset with me.

The thing is, I had no idea we were supposed to get together. I looked back over our messages and saw that she had, indeed, asked to drop by at 2, but her words indicated she was just going to drop something off. I wrote back, apologizing, explaining that I was sick, and asked why she didn't leave the item inside the screen door.

Her answer the next morning floored me. She accused me of several things, all of which were simply not true. I was hurt in ways that are impossible to describe, especially when she had never indicated anything was wrong. I spent the rest of the day crying, contemplating, and praying. By the end of the day a few things had come to my mind.

First, the Lord helped me to understand why she said everything she said. In every accusation, in every word of reproach, I saw where she was coming from. In her mind the things she said were just and true.

Second, though we may see some of what is going on in the lives of others, we do not know everything. This woman has fantasized what my life must be like, and has somehow made herself believe I can make her life better. She does not know my joys and heartaches, my daily triumphs and struggles, nor my priorities. She cannot comprehend why I place certain people at the forefront, while others must take a back seat.

At the same time I do not know all of what she struggles with. I am not in her head, nor her heart. I cannot begin to comprehend what hardships caused her to feel as though taking it out on me was okay. And that's something I simply need to understand, even if I don't always like it.

Third, forgiving someone their trespasses against you comes from seeking first to understand where they are coming from. When we can do that, we release their tight grip on our conscience, and allow the Lord to step in and replace the hurt.

And fourth, forgiving someone does not have to mean lying back down to be a door mat for them again. I don't know what it'll be like to see this woman on Sunday. I haven't decided if I'll talk to her on the off chance she approaches me. Though I understand enough to forgive her, I know for my own sake I need to keep her at more of a distance, at least until my heart has healed enough to know where to go from here.

Seek first to understand, then to be understood. Eight words given to me this week by my Lord to help me through a difficult situation. I am grateful for His loving hand in my life.

What Mormon's Really Believe: Did a 15 Year-Old Boy Really See God?

In 1820 a young man of 15 years old found himself confused. 

"There was in the place where we lived an unusual excitement on the subject of religion. It commenced with the Methodists, but soon became general among all the sects in that region of country. Indeed, the whole district of country seemed affected by it, and great multitudes united themselves to the different religious parties, which created no small stir and division amongst the people, some crying, 'Lo, here!" and "Lo, there!" Some were contending for the Methodist faith, some fr the Presbyterian, and some for the Baptist.

"For, notwithstanding the great love which the converts to these different faith expressed at the time of their conversion, and the great zeal manifested by the respective clergy, who were active in getting up and promoting this extraordinary scene of religious feeling, in order to have everybody converted, as they were pleased to call it, let them join what sect they pleased; yet when the converts began to file off, some to one party and some to another, it was seen that the seemingly good feelings of both the priests and the converts were more pretended than real; for a scene of great confusion and bad feeling ensued - priest contending against priest - and convert against convert; so that all their good feelings one for another, if they ever had any, were entirely lost in a strife of words and a contest about opinions."

Though four members of his family opted to join the Presbyterian faith, this young man was more inclined associate with the Methodist sect, but even this did not bring him much peace. 

"My mind at times was greatly excited, the cry and tumult were so great and incessant. The Presbyterians were most decided against the Baptists and Methodists, and used all the powers of both reason and sophistry to prove their errors, or, at least, to make the people think they were in error. On the other hand, the Baptists and Methodists in their turn were equally zealous in endeavoring to establish their own tenets and disprove all others.

"In the midst of this war of words and tumult of opinions, I often said to myself: What is to be done? Who of all these parties are right; or, are they all wrong together? If any one of them be right, which is it, and how shall I know it?"

This young man had been raised on the words of the Bible, and turned to them repeatedly for answers. One day he read in James, chapter one, verse five: If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.

"Never did any passage of scripture come with more power to the heart of man than this did at this time to mine. It seemed to enter with great force into every feeling of my heart. I reflected on it again and again, knowing that if any person needed wisdom from God, I did; for how to act I did not know, and unless I could get more wisdom than I then had, I would never know; for the teachers of religion of the different sects understood the same passages of scripture so differently as to destroy all confidence in settling the question by an appeal to the Bible."

After much studying, pondering, and prayer, the young man at last decided it was time to ask of God, as was encouraged in the scripture that so touched his heart. Little did he know what was to follow.

"I retired to the woods to make the attempt. It was on the morning of a beautiful, clear day, early in the spring of eighteen hundred and twenty. It was the first time in my life that I had made such an attempt, for amidst all my anxieties I had never as yet made the attempt to pray vocally.

"After I had retired to the place where I had previously designed to go, having looked around me, and finding myself alone, I kneeled down and began to offer up the desires of my heart to God. I had scarcely done so, when immediately I was seized upon by some power which entirely overcame me, and had such an astonishing influence over me as to bind my tongue so that I could not speak. Thick darkness gathered around me, and it seemed to me for a time as if I were doomed to sudden destruction.

"But, exerting all my powers to call upon God to deliver me out of the power of this enemy which had seized upon me, and at the very moment when I was ready to sink into despair and abandon myself to destruction - not to an imaginary ruin, but to the power of some actual being from the unseen world, who had such marvelous power as I had never before felt in any being - just at this moment of great alarm, I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me.

"It no sooner appeared than I found myself delivered from the enemy which held me bound. When the light rested upon me I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing to the other - This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!'"

Many stories have been told of Joseph Smith, Jr, the man who brought forth the restoration of the Lord's Church in this day and time. Some of those stories are true, others are not. For one to understand the truth of what we, as Mormons, believe it is important to read the words of the man who we believe was a prophet of God. He was a young man, confused by the words and beliefs of mankind and their interpretation of scripture, of the seeming hatred between each church, and the claims of each of them being God's one true church. He prayed, as each one of us are encouraged to do, in order to discover the truth as promised us by the words James taught.

We can learn much through his example: read the Bible. Study the words out in our minds. Ponder over what is being taught. Decide on a question to be answered. And pray with a sincere desire to know the truth.

Because of one prayer some precious truths were taught. First, that Satan is a real being. Joseph Smith, at 15 years old, was about to start on a journey that would be fraught with hardship and happiness, a journey that would shake some of the foundations of Christianity. The second truth we were taught - that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ stood side-by-side, that they are two distinct individuals, and that Heavenly Father is pleased with what His Son had accomplished.

One more thing we learned in these brief moments: God the Father knew Joseph's name. Just as He knows all our names. Just as He knows each and every one of us, and has a plan in store for our lives. Though Satan may howl and bring us low, he has no more power than that - God's power, the Lord's power, that is strong than anything Satan can throw our way.

I testify of this experience, one we refer to as 'The First Vision', as having happened. Like unto Joseph, I have read the Bible as well as other scripture that has been brought forth. I have pondered on the words, I have decided on particular questions to ask, and with a humble heart and a sincere desire to know, I have prayed about each point related to you today. And I have received a witness of it's truth, just as you can receive that same witness. 

However, if you desire no more than to simply understand what we believe Joseph Smith experienced in the hopes of knowing why we believe in him as a prophet, and another reason as to why we believe Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are two separate beings, then I hope I have done at least a little of this today.

If you would like to read more about the beginnings of this Church in Joseph Smith's own words, you can go to Joseph Smith-History and read more.

What Mormons Really Believe: The Godhead

In order to understand more fully why the members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (more commonly referred to as the Mormons) believe as they do and act as they do, I feel it is important to have knowledge of what our core beliefs are. It is not my intention to make believers out of everyone who reads this. I have no doubt many will shake their heads in wonderment that such fanciful things could be believed. My hope is to simply inform those who are looking for enlightenment in why we believe what we do.

I should also state that while I am a member of this church, I do not speak for them in any official way. This is simply me taking what has been taught and trying to help you understand.

To start I would like to make this important statement: we worship Jesus Christ. It is in the name of our church. We believe the Bible to be the word of God so far as it is translated correctly. I point this out because many comments have been made that we worship Joseph Smith, a man who we believe restored the gospel of Jesus Christ in these days.

The second portion of that sentence is true. The lack of truth lies in one word: worship. We do not worship Joseph Smith. We revere him as a prophet, just as we revere prophets of old: Adam, Abraham, Jacob, Moses, Jeremiah, Isaiah, Peter, and many others from the Old and New Testaments. But there is only one person we worship, and that is Jesus Christ.

One of the largest reasons we, as Mormons, are not considered Christian by other Christian faiths is our belief system in the Godhead. It is here I would like to focus this first post.

God the Father

One of the core beliefs of our faith states: “We believe in God, the Eternal Father, and in His Son, Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost.” Where our views tend to depart from that of other faiths is in the belief that these are three distinct, separate individuals. Jesus Christ is literally the spirit child of the Father, but he is also the only ‘begotten’ of the Father – meaning Christ is the only mortal child as well.

Christ talks often of Heavenly Father during His time on earth.

“My Father is greater than I” John 14:28.

And again:

“Father, the hour is come; glorify thy Son, that thy Son also may glorify thee:…And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent” John 17:1,3.

For me, the moment of Christ being baptized is one of the greatest proofs of these three beings as separate, as is shone in Matthew 3:16-17.

“And Jesus, when he was baptized, went up straightway out of the water: and, lo, the heavens were opened unto him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and lighting upon him:

“And lo a voice from Heaven, saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.”

For us as Mormons the idea that God the Father and Jesus Christ are two separate beings was solidified when both came to Joseph Smith as an answer to a simple prayer. Joseph saw each individual, similar in appearance but definitely not the same person.

“When the light rested upon me I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing to the other – This is My Beloved Son, hear Him!” Joseph Smith – History 1:17.

Again there is the proclamation of God the Father declaring Jesus Christ to be His Son, only this time there was a witness who acknowledged them as two separate Beings.

We were created in God the Father’s image.

“And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness…

“God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them” Genesis 1:26-27.

We are His children.

“I have said, Ye are gods; and all of you are children of the most High” Psalm 82:6.

As Mormons we also believe that we might also become like God.

“The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of God: And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if it so be that we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified together” Romans 8:16-17.

“Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God: therefore the world knoweth us not, because it knew him not.

“Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is” 1 John 3:1-2.

I will, as I begin to study a lot more about this particular subject, write a separate post on this belief. For now, I simply hope it helps you to understand just a little of our belief in the Father.

Jesus Christ

“In giving revelations our Savior speaks at times for himself; at other times for the Father, and in the Father’s name, as though he were the Father, and yet it is Jesus Christ, our Redeemer who gives the message” (Smith, Joseph Fielding, Selections from Doctrines of Salvation, p. 19).

I referred earlier to the visitation of God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, to Joseph Smith. If we continue reading in the next few verses we can see Jesus speaking in behalf of the Father.

“…When the light rested upon me I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy description, standing above me in the air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing to the other – This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!

“My object in going to inquire of the Lord was to know which of all the sects was right, that I might know which to join. No sooner, therefore, did I get possession of myself, so as to be able to speak, than I asked the Personages who stood above me in the light, which of all the sects was right (for at this time it had never entered into my heart that all were wrong) – and which I should join.

“I was answered that I must join none of them” (Joseph Smith – History 1:17-19, italics added).

Though God the Father could have directed Joseph in what to do, He left it up to His Son, who did so as though He were the Father.

Think for a moment of a Mother and Father who are in harmony, that work together to raise their children. At times we are able to answer for the other, even when the other is not present to affirm a decision. The simple word, “I” is often used in place of “we” because it’s simply not necessary to differentiate between the two. The child knows if one parent says so, the other parent will agree.

So it is with the Father and the Son. Often Jesus Christ speaks in the first person, “I” or “my”, but is actually speaking in behalf of the Father. He is the mediator between the Father and mankind.

When Adam transgressed one of the commandments he could no longer stay in the presence of the Father. Christ stepped in as our advocate. In the scriptures we often witness Him praying to the Father in our behalf.

Christ was the Firstborn in spirit and the Only Begotten in flesh. “…The firstborn of every creature” (Colossians 1:15).

Though Christ was the literal Son of God, he still grew up in a mortal world and needed to live and learn as we all do. He “increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man” (Luke 2:52). “Though he were a Son, yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered” (Hebrews 5:8). Though He never sinned in this life, He was still required to learn as the rest of us: line upon line, precept upon precept.

Jesus Christ did what we all must do: He lived, He died, He was resurrected, and then He ascended to the Father. This we must do also, in our own way, though it will take longer to accomplish.

Holy Ghost

I once read a woman’s article on how Mormon’s bear their testimony. In it she made the comment that “you have to say Holy Ghost. That’s what they call it.” I found it to be such an odd comment as he is often referred to in the Bible as the Holy Ghost. We are not the only ones who refer to him as such. He goes by many different names: The Holy Spirit, the Spirit of God, the Spirit of the Lord, the Spirit of Truth, and the Comforter.

The mission of the Holy Ghost is simple: to teach truth. Not the truth of Man, but God’s truth.

“But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you" (John 14:26).

Christ was speaking of the time when He would no longer be among his disciples, though they fought hard not to believe that time would fast approach. In His place would be the Holy Ghost to guide and comfort and direct them in proclaiming the Gospel.

The Holy Ghost reveals things to us. “For the prophecy came not in old time by the will of man: but holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost” (2 Peter 1:21).

Not only were the prophets directed by the Spirit of God, but as individuals we are given the right to personal revelation as well. He will reveal truth to those who are humble, obedient, and worthy to receive truth and light. These are the basis behind one’s testimony (or personal witness). No other being has that same convincing power. Some hearts are too proud and minds are too closed to receive revelation and become more easily influenced and tricked into believing falsehoods.

In our Church we believe that all have access to that beautiful influence of the Holy Spirit, that ability to have revelation of truth and light. We also believe there is a difference between having the influence of the Holy Ghost, and having the gift of the Holy Ghost.

The influence of the Holy Ghost is not constant. It is here and there as truth and light are humbly searched after and prayed for. The gift of the Holy Ghost comes after one is baptized by immersion by those who have the proper priesthood authority, and are then confirmed a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and asked to receive this gift. For us, we believe that so long as we are worthy, we might have access to the Holy Spirit to guide, guard, and direct us.

That is a basic overview of what we, as Mormons, believe regarding the Godhead. It is not a perfect summary, but it is what I felt guided to share with you at this time. Perhaps there are those out there who might be able to add to this information, especially when it comes to scriptural evidences, or who can clarify things far more than I was able to accomplish.

As I continue to put up posts like this I will attempt to link them together. My next post will center around what Mormons believe when it comes to life before mortality.

An Unusual Way to Gain a Blessing

Without a doubt this has been an unusual week. Not bad, just unusual. Tonight, though, takes the cake. Not only for weird things happening, but for the blessing it provided us.

Last weekend my husband noticed our older son's bike had been stolen. Again. This marked the second time this year it had been taken from our backyard.

Earlier tonight my husband and I were called out to a friend's house who was greatly struggling. Upon arriving home we were met with the sight of a young man (maybe 12 or so) entering our back yard. When he realized we were there to stay he tried to look as though he was heading toward our neighbor's yard. My husband got out to confront him, and was told the kid's friend was making him try to take a bike from our yard.

It was then I remembered the three boys kind of hanging around on bikes just a few houses down. I jumped back in the car and started chase. Two of them weren't fast enough and I managed to catch up to one. He was scared, that's for certain, and he led me back to an apartment where one of his "friend's" just happened to have 'found' a bike at the local park.

Guess what? Turns out this bike just happened to have belonged to my son! Another kid rode the bike back to my house where the police was just arriving so we could get a handle on what was going on with the first boy.

So here's what I figured out from the few things the boy said to the police: he and three other kids were looking for another bike to steal for him. The older brother of the guy I caught up to pointed out our house as a good place to look, but we arrived just as he was heading into the back yard. When the other three realized what was happening they took off, leaving the boy at our house alone.

The policeman told the boy to walk over to his house and he'd follow in the car. I could not just let him leave without saying something - he was so scared. As he walked off I kept asking him not to follow along with what someone says to do when he knows it's wrong, especially if it's just to impress some other kid. I wish now I had at least asked his name.

I'm not certain what happened after they left. My husband and I had another appointment we needed to get to and the policeman stopped by while we were out, basically saying he'd be keeping an eye on the boys.

I'm very happy J got his bike back, but oh I hate the way it all had to happen, in particular for the young man who was left behind by his so-called friends.

I am a Member of the Mormon Church, and I am Not Afraid

I have spent a good majority of my life afraid. It has nothing to do with physical danger or of any threat to me, or anyone I love. In my youth I was afraid of looking dumb, of being made fun of (and trust me, I was a chubby redhead with freckles, glasses, AND braces – there was plenty to make fun of), or not having any friends. As I grew the fear became not having any guy like me, of disappointing my parents, of not being good enough. Upon becoming a wife and a mother I began to fear for my family. Was I a helpmate to my husband? Was I a good mother? I also feared hurting others. Having been made fun of and chastened while growing up, I knew the damage an unkind word or correction done incorrectly could do. Looking back there are so many things I wish I could undo, but that would also take away all the lessons I learned from my mistakes. 

For the most part I’ve gotten over many of those fears, in particular through the last few years. I have grown to know myself better, and appreciate my foibles as well as those things that make me awesome. I can see myself more and more through the eyes of my Heavenly Father, and know He has a plan for me. One big part of that plan is to preach the Lord’s gospel, as is my duty as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, or the Mormon Church.

Therein lie my greatest fears of today. Several months ago during a Fast and Testimony meeting I stood to bear my own testimony (or express the witnesses I had received from the Holy Ghost as to the truthfulness of the Lord’s gospel). The Holy Spirit had been working on me so hard during that entire meeting and I finally could not ignore it any longer. Before bearing my testimony I spoke of what I felt the Lord was asking me to say. You see, a trend had begun of telling many a story or experience before bearing the testimony, and often the story was longer than the testimony. One person was so focused on relating his experience by the time he began to speak to us of the testimony he'd gained he actually said the words, “Blah, blah, blah” to help relate what was supposed to be the entire point of standing up in front of the congregation.

On that Sabbath morning I stood and tried, in my imperfect way, to express the Lord’s desire: that the hour appointed to bearing one’s testimony return to it’s purpose. Stories and experiences are beautiful things, as they are what help to bring that special witness to us. But there is a time and a place for the stories, and we had forgotten this. Though the feeling in the chapel was warm, and sweet, and loving, the Spirit had to wait through the stories before it could do what it was meant to do: bear witness to the truths told by those who felt inspired to relate them.

How important is that special witness to our church? I would imagine just as important as it is in any church. Vital, even. In fact, once a month our main meeting is set aside from having regular speakers to allow those in the congregation to bear their testimonies as they feel inspired to do. Once a month! When done suitably the Holy Spirit is allowed to witness to all who are willing to listen, which not only strengthens the one standing at the microphone, but all others in the room as well. It is a beautiful, marvelous experience. One our Heavenly Father knows we need.

Let us go back to the day I stood, as prompted by the Spirit, to remind everyone of this. I know my words, my actions, did not sit well with many, and as the bishop’s wife both he and I are under major scrutiny. I also knew my husband might not be so happy with me. I even knew I might hurt those who had been at the microphone before I got up. Which is why it took me until almost the end of the meeting to finally obey, for it came down to this: whom was I more prepared to disappoint – my husband and people I love, or my Heavenly Father and my Savior?

I was terrified of the moment my husband got home, not because he’d yell or anything, but because I knew he’d feel let down by my actions. We chatted for a few minutes until I couldn’t take it any more.

“Did I do bad?” I asked.

“I don’t know, honey. I just don’t know.”

My heart broke. I began to doubt that I’d really been listening to the Spirit. Was it just me? Had I made a horrible mistake? We talked a little more and I agreed to at least apologize to those who had born their testimonies that day. Unfortunately in doing so I made one of them feel worse than if I’d just left it alone, which preyed on my more, and placed me on a cycle of self-recrimination I could not work my way out of.

I was a horrible person. I couldn’t differentiate between my own feelings and that of the Lord’s. I hurt people I purported to love. I disappointed my husband and placed him in an awkward situation that could get him in trouble with his own leaders. These thoughts and more circled through my head for days and days.

I began to try to make up for being such a wicked person. I kept telling myself, “If I just do this then it means I’m not bad.” “If I get this done then maybe I’m not so horrible.” “If I give up this and that it means I might be a good wife and mother.” By the end of the week I had myself so worked up I even had thoughts of harming myself. Because who was I to tell anyone else what they should or shouldn’t do? I. Was. No one.

Satan worked me over thoroughly that week. It didn’t help that my doctor had toyed a little with my depression meds to see if it would help with my constant exhaustion, but they were not the true cause of my turmoil. Things came to a head Friday evening. I’d gotten some pizza for the kids for dinner and stood in the kitchen washing dishes. My husband, who’d just woken from a nap, came in and told me I didn’t have to do those. He’d do them later. In my mind came the thought, "But if you have to do them it means I'm not doing my job. I'll have failed you again."

I couldn’t stop. My headed shook no and I refused to look him in the eye. All week long I’d been able to hide the torrential storms of emotion I’d dealt with, but no longer. When asked why I wouldn’t come eat dinner I finally admitted, “If I can just get these dishes done, maybe it’ll mean I’m a good person.”

It took some doing but he finally got me into our room and we began to talk. I still couldn’t look him in the eye and I know I frightened him with my ramblings. At one point he asked, “Does this have something to do with what I said on Sunday?” He sounded horrified, which only confirmed in my mind that which I already knew: now I’ve hurt my husband. I really was horrible!

Because we hadn’t discussed my actions since Sunday I didn’t realize he’d been thinking about it too. Granted, it was not to the extent my guilty mind had done, but he said something that offered a tiny sliver of hope in my overtaxed mind: Did you ever think the Lord asked you to do it because I didn’t have the courage to do it myself?

It was the first mention that maybe, just maybe, I hadn’t goofed up as royally as I’d convinced myself. My husband, the sweet, remarkable, amazing man, then picked up the phone and called my parents to come down. My mother held me in her arms as we discussed what I’d been through that week, and gave voice to the words that maybe, just maybe, I was simply a soft-hearted woman who didn’t want to hurt those I love. When I’d calmed down more my father placed his hands on my head, along with my husband, and gave me a priesthood blessing.

Therein was my grace, the balm to my aching soul. I was told, in words that could not be mixed up, twisted, or doubted, that I had done exactly as He had wanted me to do.

I honestly don’t recall anything else from that blessing, but it’s okay. That was all I needed. Turns out I wasn’t a horrible person. Turns out I wasn’t imposing my own thoughts on Him and attempting to pass them off as His. Turns out I had done what was right. What I’d done wrong was fearing man more than I feared God, once my task had been done.

Since that time I’ve been learning more about what it means to do that which the Lord asks of me without fearing the outcome. I still struggle with what is me being a passionate person, and what is of the Lord or the Father. Perhaps I always will.

This morning I had the opportunity to attend one of the sacred temples here in Utah. From the moment I awoke there was an intense feeling of happiness at the thought of going. In the car on my way there I couldn’t stop tears from forming, my happiness was truly so complete. A part of me knew there was Someone who loved me deeply by my side, though I could not say whom that Someone might have been. Nothing grand occurred during my time at the temple, no angelic visitations or life-changing revelations as I might suppose would occur with such remarkable feelings. It’s more what I walked away with today that has reaffirmed what I need to do with some of my time spent here at home now that the kids are all in school.

It is time to teach. I was blessed with a desire to learn, a desire at times so intense I can hardly gobble up books fast enough to quench the thirst for knowledge. I was also blessed with a gift for teaching, something I love to do and am able to accomplish in my Primary class every Sunday. But more than this I was given a gift to express myself through writing, and it is this gift especially I have been told to concentrate on.

There has been a mighty focus on the Mormon Church with Mitt Romney running for the office of President of the United States. Media, much as it may try to keep from doing so, is biased and more often than not it is biased in the negative when it comes to this church. So be it. Many out there will choose to believe what they are told by the media, or what they hear by word of mouth, much of which is not, and has not, been kind.

There will also be those who will want to know more, and it is for them I am to begin teaching in earnest about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. This is what was confirmed to me today while at the temple. It is time to stop being afraid. No more fearing I might offend or hurt someone by what I have to say, so long as those words I put down are inspired of the Lord. No more fearing I might disappoint anyone but my Father and my Brother, and if I am doing what I do in faith then there is no need to worry.

There are three particular subjects I’ve avoided as much as possible, due to fear, that I will attempt to address in my limited ability over the course of the next few…well, however long it takes me. Those are polygamy, blacks and the priesthood, and homosexuality. My sincere hope is that in knowing where we come from, light might be shed as to why we believe as we do, and why and when things have happened as they have.

I love my Heavenly Father. I love my Savior. I am not afraid to show this, no matter what the consequences may be. If I am to disappoint anyone, let it not be Them.

The Blessings Behind a Broken Microwave

WE...are a microwave loving family. From warming up pancakes in the morning and melting cheese over corn chips for some quick nachos, to heating up a bowl of Chef Boy RD and defrosting chicken, this quick-cooking contraption has long been one of our favorite kitchen appliances.

Our white microwave died earlier this year. We were heartily saddened at it's passing, as it had been with the family for a long, long, long time. Many years, in fact. Of course, things were made to last back in the days we purchased it. Not so these days, as you will soon read.

Out my hubby and I went searching for an awesome-possum microwave. The color didn't matter. We just wanted to find something from a brand we'd trusted in the past, and were willing to pay a mid-range price for it. Not too expensive, as we're not rolling in waves of money. Not the cheapest either, as that typically says, "I'll break on you in no time."

We ended up picking a black one by Emerson. I put down the name knowing full well the company has a reputation of being good, and our one bad experience won't keep me from purchasing it again.

I loved our new microwave. It had all sorts of buttons, and popped the kids' popcorn to perfection - a very important consideration in our house. All four of them had tons of fun using it, which may have contributed just a smidge to it's premature death.

That's right. Only six months and our beloved new microwave passed away, refusing to heat a thing. It'll happily blow cold air on whatever you want to stick in it, but no more heat.

Sadness, I know.

One thing I haven't loved , but will accept as there's nothing I can do about it, is the sudden increase in the amount of dishes we must now do. We are not ones who have an electric dishwasher. Two hands and a sink full of suds is how we get things clean.

Our utter dependence on this one appliance for the nourishment of my children became apparent as suddenly my kids began to declare there's "nothing to eat!" In truth I realized they were proclaiming, "We don't know how to eat things you don't cook in the microwave!" Here we come to blessing #1.

1. Mom's cooking things for the kids again. Whether it's warming up last night's leftover burger patties or mixing up some pancake batter, Mom has actually been in the kitchen, at the stove, actively participating in the feeding of her children. And since she's already cooking up things for lunch, why not get a few things prepared for dinner! Which brings us to...

2. The evening ritual of dinner prep isn't as hectic. Don't get me wrong, it's still hectic, just not AS hectic. Yet it has freed up enough time to enjoy having the kids come in to help finish putting everything together, like preparing a green salad, setting the table, and slicing up some veggies. Of course, that's all dependent on what we're eating that night.

3. Another unexpected blessing has come in the form of teaching the younger ones to use the stove. Both of my boys are old enough, but until now I hadn't taken the time to do anything about teaching them until the last two weeks. I'm not talking about anything huge, just warming up a can of spaghetti and meatballs or cooking up some Ramen noodles.

4. The last blessing I have noticed in this short time has been an increase of my children's gratitude for providing a simple meal for them. It may not be exactly what they want, but the fact that I took time out of my busy day to prepare something just for them has been noticed, and I've felt the increase in gratitude and love.

I'm still hoping we'll be able to get a microwave someday soon, but until then I find myself oddly happy that for a time our microwave is broken.

The Value of a Dollar Earned

Our boys came to us about two weeks ago begging for a game. They really, really, really, REALLY wanted this game. Would we buy it for them? Pretty, pretty please?

The irony here is we've been talking about needing to cut back on a lot of stuff to get certain debts paid off. We're not rich, by any means. We don't spend an awful lot of money. But due to not enough income to supplement the inflation in prices, as well as several emergencies that have required the use of a dreaded credit card,  we're not doing as well as we have in the past. So looking into the faces of our two little boys who really, honestly thought we'd just buy them a new game was a wake up call in our need to help our own kids realize money is not always there whenever we need something.

A plan was devised to help them earn some money. The car needed a good cleaning both inside and out. There was a flower bed in desperate need of weeding. the pantry needed a thorough examination to see what had expired, what would expire soon, and what would last us a while longer. We agreed on a price for each job. These jobs plus a few others would help them to pay for their own game.

At first the boys were all excited. Halfway through the weeding job their excitement waned, especially when friends came over hoping for someone to play with, but they plodded on. Halfway through cleaning the car Mr. B was disheartened to hear about all the little places they needed to get in and dejunk, but he hitched up his shorts and kept going. I could hardly believe the commitment these two young boys had in regards to earning the money for something they really wanted.

When the pantry job remained Mr. J was called away to participate with a scouting event. I thought this might keep them from finishing with the pantry this week, but Mr. B surprised me by tackling this all on his own. He rocked it! I couldn't have been prouder to see him figuring out what could stay and what needed to go (though I have a feeling many things that could have stayed now reside in the garbage can).

I have paid my boys for these jobs. Someone will be paying them to keep watch over their house while they go on vacation.  It has been awesome to see their dedication to doing a job well done. On a whim I thought I should try looking on Amazon for the game. Not only did I find it for half off, but we found two controllers for a discounted price as well, something they eventually also hoped to earn money for. Their excitement over getting both put them over the moon!

I told them two things had to happen before they got their game and controllers. First, they had to pay tithing. Second, they had to pay me for the "merchandise."

Tithing is really important to me. I have seen the blessings that have come from returning to the Lord 10% of what we have been blessed with. Tithing is the first thing out of our paycheck. I want my kids to have that same reverence and respect for what they have also been blessed with. We have gone over exactly how much they'll need to pay, and both are so happy to do it.

I want them to pay me the money so that they can see this is not just something I did for them. This is something they accomplished though their own hard work.

Ms. M has had a babysitting job for the last two weeks. She works with a friend Thursday and Friday from nine to five watching a couple of kids. It's not an easy job, but she's very proud of what she's accomplishing, of the responsibility being handed to her. She too knows tithing is important, and is also planning to get many of her own school things so we don't have to.

The last unexpected blessing has been in seeing our littlest want to earn some money as well. Her skills are limited, and she wants to give up mighty quick. It's taken a lot of prodding to make certain she does the job she's been assigned, and does it well. We want to see her recognize even this early what it means to do a job well done, to know what it means to earn an honest dollar.

Today the boys' game arrived. Their faces as money was traded for the merchandise was awesome to behold. This was in every way their game! I may never get my living room back, but it's been worth it.

One last unexpected bonus: this week Mr. J was helping me with the grocery shopping. We were in a crunch for time and by the time we got home from the store and brought the groceries in the house I was desperate for a shower. "Mom," he said, "you go ahead and take a shower. I'll put everything away." "Are you sure?" I asked, both surprised and delighted by his offer. "Sure," he said with a shrug. I got in my shower, and he put the groceries away. A little act of service from a boy who'd been working hard all week. LOVE IT!!!