And I am Home - in the Home of the Beloved - a Convert so to speak

Writing this morning from the heart, less from the head.  We are home this Sunday morning, listening to our collection of favorite Mormon hymns, mostly piano, which have an emotional impact on me every time I hear them.  I find that I am missing that we are not in Church this morning.   In January 2014 it will be three years that I have had the privilege and honor to walk among the people who populate the LDS Church.  To say so is a recognition of humble acceptance on my part.  I did not believe I would or could 'convert' and did not see myself as such.  I have become what is termed in the LDS culture and religion a convert.

 In other words, I wasn't born into the Church, wasn't raised in the Church, don't have heritage or ancestors in this Church and what brings me to it is my husband's fact of both being born into the Church and having long-standing heritage among the peoples who brought us Mormonism and kept it a viable, living way of life. My connection to his heritage is my deep feeling for what his ancestor, Mary Jarvis, endured in making the treacherous Martin Handcart crossing to Salt Lake City.  She speaks to me in a voice that resonates so strongly within me.  I may be projecting my thoughts, experiences, wishes, hopes, desires onto her, yet it may not be descriptive of who she was, more that it could well be descriptive of who I am.  I embrace her faith, the faith she had within the depths of her soul as she drew upon that strength to survive the journey.  This does not speak as much to the nature of the religion as much as it speaks to individual's sense of faith and for that she has my respect.

For many years I have yearned for what my husband had in the fact that he knew his origins, his people, his heritage, his faith, the nature of his spirituality.  When he rejected the Church for the teachings, for the Correlation period of the Church that condensed individuality towards efforts of conformity, it was easy enough for me to help-mate him with his explorations that led to deconstructing what about the Church teachings didn't work well, were not healthy.  If one could step back and stay in their head, keeping discussion philosophical, abstract and conceptual, it was not difficult to disregard the Church teachings as having holes, sometimes very big black holes of despair.  But it is far more difficult to disregard the people of the community of the Church who give so much, work so hard towards self-improvement by the outline given them by their Church.  So many reach out in belief they are being helpful often not recognizing that their sense of helpful may in fact be hurtful.  And yet their hearts are in their efforts, the intent is not malicious.  I finally get to a place where I can appreciate, respect, understand misunderstandings for what they are - mis-understood.  Not understanding a meaning; erroneous interpretation; misconception; disagreement.   In other words, a very human way of being human.

It was August that I last wrote here.  Much has transpired in the few months since August.  We spent the month of September with his brother and wife in their home, in their community, in their Church, in Eastern Idaho, in what is known to be part of the Mormon corridor.  Our plan at the time was to take the next step towards what constitutes a Temple sealing of our marriage, and frankly speaking, at the end of that month, we were further removed from taking that step than when we began.  So there is no mistake, that is not as much by anything done or not done, said or not said in our stay with his brother and wife, nor the people of the community.  My caution antennae was again fully raised in my sense it is not necessary to take that step as it constitutes an immersion into beliefs I cannot yet accept or embrace.  They are both what is called Temple Workers.  He has held the calling of a Bishop and now teaches the Gospel Doctrine class.  I would say they have a situation that works for them in many ways and I respect that for them.  We came to the conclusion that because it works well for them is not indicative that it would work well for us.  We were married in a ceremony we loved, incorporating  Native American beliefs into what it means to join lives, sharing in joyous togetherness, communion.   It is difficult for us to see something more beautiful than the wedding ceremony we chose in uniting to become one with one another.

As my understanding or better said, my interpretation of how I understand a Temple sealing, I would receive my endowments (which I can receive apart from my husband at any time I so choose), and we could then choose to seal our marriage making covenants within the Church that are with respect to the LDS Church viewpoints or interpretations.  It does not make our marriage any more or less sacred, and what it portends is a deeper immersion into a way to behave with regard to the LDS Church.  We wish to continue to find ways to balance our love of the Native American way of seeing spirituality, our appreciation of other's way of seeing and practicing spirituality in a web of life kind of way, inclusive of much, exclusive of little.  Even so, I appreciate the need to belong to some tribe that knows me, can reach out to me, care about me, care about us even in our own jagged journey.

October gave us some challenges to our thinking with regard to best ways to be attentive to my mother in her aging years.  We have an ongoing decision to make as to where we will spend our later years, opportunities to relocate, yet mourning the loss of where we have been located for the past thirteen years.  We have grandchildren whom we wish to be close to who adore our company and we theirs.  We have issues ourselves with our bodies which choose to age in years despite our mental state of reacting in surprise that our bodies would age at all.  Mortality looms closer in our thoughts, requiring thinking that heralds responsibilities toward that end we have not yet fully embraced.

We return to our assigned Ward in November.  The young missionaries pay a visit, and I ask my husband to spend time with them as I am involved in a tasking for our home and not dressed to receive visitors.  He, having his own long ago experience of being a returned missionary has stories to share with the missionaries and imo some issues he has to work out for himself that don't require my attention.  Maybe a week later we get a visit from our home teacher and his teenage son and I find myself astonished in a most positive way at the things he says and shares.  It seems to me that I experience that sense of a heavy curtain being slowly drawn back to reveal a light that shines brightly out of these Mormon teachings - the ones we together have disparaged over the years even as we have walked tentatively toward that very light.

Somehow it seems to me he offers thoughts that fit what I need at this juncture in my, in our life decisions.  He says respectful and appreciative things about my efforts in going into this church, about my support of my husband's heritage, about my questions, my doubts, my observations, my thoughts, my conclusions up to this point.  He does not spend time backing me up, repeating well known to me phrases that defend the church.  At some point I ask if it is okay to have such a candid discussion with his teenage son there with him.  He assures me his son is fine with the discussion.  As the discussion comes to an end, I learn he is a physician and discern he likely is quite experienced with people's diverse ways of seeing a situation therefore knows how to respond to their needs as to where they are in the moment.  And that is exactly what I needed at that moment.  The empathy of someone who could get to my space and not push me into their space.  All the resistance I've felt for all these years fell away in those moments.   It did feel very much like I was getting a most personal message from the Beloved that was meant specifically for me.  I felt like I had found my home and I intend to stay there even if my dear husband does not.  Recognition that my husband's issues are his to work out, his to make the good fight and I have fought with him all these years, sometimes to my own detriment, putting my faith in him.  A recognition comes gradually that I can put my faith in him as my husband, being human, with his own strengths and frailties just as I have and that together we could put our faith in something beyond -- never mind how it is named, defined, conceptualized, explained -- it is a feeling that the head cannot experience and the heart knows.  I am there.  I call to our Beloved to cradle me, nurture me and bring me closer.   Amen.


---- After writing this post, sharing it with my loving husband, I had a long period of emotion swelling in me that brought me to tears over and over again - something that doesn't happen often.  I tried to verbalize what was the emotional and feeling inside me, and fell short of expressing those emotions in a logical way.  He listens with his heart, not with his head and we are blessed that has been the nature of our lives together as we listen to each other with our hearts, while our words try to find an emotional equivalent.   He shared with me a post he had written on his own blog earlier this summer when we were seriously committed to finishing the work we had begun with a sealing in the Temple.  He updated the post in November, adding some thoughts and additions.  I was so struck with his thoughts and wanted to share that link here.

This morning I heard the hymn  Abide With Me, familiar to Episcopals.  This hymn has also been adapted and is used in LDS services as well.  The particular verse that caught my attention is worded as follows:

                         'Oh Thou that changest not, abide with me'

 Hearing it this morning though, in that wordage, captured my attention, and likely because I was in such an emotional space.  Thinking of Thou who does not change, remains the same, forever and all time.  I believe that each of us as human creatures need a sense of Compass to guide us through our life travails, and we need that Compass to be steady, to be a definte place of measurement, to be a point of demarcation that we can count on each and every time we need to reference our personal Compass. I believe when we lose our sense of Compass is perhaps when we most feel lost.  In talking with my husband this morning, he mentioned that at this time in our lives, this time of uprooting, it is perhaps close by that we feel the need of our compass to be steady in guiding us.  In my world view, it is a great comfort to think of Thou as one who changest not and does abide with me.

Owning my testimony, with personal pride in jubilant joy

Attending the Ward to which we are newly assigned.  Learning it is a Ward with a high turnover of members and visitors for that matter.  Young families, young people just starting out in family life live in the area temporarily for a couple of years as interns in new jobs, as college students, as military families assigned to a military base, and what other reasons that would bring people to a short term living arrangement for a long-term goal.

It seems to me that because of this dynamic, there is an effort on the part of the members in being extra friendly, warm and welcoming to new members, visitors, with the constant flux of people coming and going.  It has a familiarity to it that resonates with me for perhaps the very reason that I'm familiar with the lifestyle of having grown up in a military family that moved every two years or so, leaving friends behind, making new friends, and knowing that we would be on the move again within a couple of years.  Makes an indelible mark on the mind of this child, always knowing that there will be a next duty station, another new situation, meeting new people, a new school, making new friends (not easily I might add) leaving things and people behind.   But in this Church, that is not so much the situation, as relationships continue, irrespective of the comings and goings.  It's intriguing to me.

My husband, who knows more of a rooted lifestyle, having grown up in a small, rural town in Idaho, knowing everyone who lived there, has introduced me in our later years together to a similar lifestyle in what was to be our permanent living arrangement in a small, rural county with small rural towns.  I think I did fairly well adapting for the thirteen years we lived there, but truth be told, there were many times I yearned for a more urban lifestyle with the plethora of urban choices, while at other times I valued immeasurably the quiet and beauty of small town living in rural setting off the hyper busy beaten path.

This evening, we attended a Stake viewing of dvd that was created of their Stake Pioneer Trek with the young people pulling the handcarts, the Ma's and Pa's giving guidance and the jubilant joy throughout the filming of the dvd.  This will be my second time sharing in  a Ward's young people's experience of a pioneer handcart trek.  I delight, with emotional tears, in their experience and in a  deep yearning for myself for something that continues to elude my conscious thought.  

Tonight, it came to me that it was exactly that element that reached out to me from the very beginning of my relationship with my husband.   In reading the book he wrote, I was compelled to empathize with the hardships of the handcart pioneers, and more than that I found their deep faith in their great adversities to be a strong testimony of what I believe faith means.   Not as much the faith in the God as defined by their Church in that era (19th century) but for me, clearly a faith that was beyond anything I'd known to date.   I realized after twenty years with my husband who struggled through his own disenchantment with the church and the recent three years I've had as a convert to this church, struggling with owning a testimony of my own, that I DO, in fact,  have a testimony.

I'm proud that the young people are doing these pioneer handcart treks, as I think the depth of value in respecting what their ancestors went through all those years ago resonates with the young people more deeply than the lessons and the talks given in the church settings.  Experience somehow seems to trump inspirational stories but that would be my opinion, not church teachings.  Given that these are the tomorrow's members of the Church, they will have families and be bringing up their children, I love the concept that the younger members will have a deeper appreciation for their heritage because of their experiential knowing of the ancestors handcart experiences, and thus will be able to teach it to their children from a place of knowing, not as much a place of repeating stories.

It is not difficult to appreciate the wide array of choices facing today's young people.  It is equally not difficult for me, in my aging years, to appreciate that some of yesterday's ethics and values still carry weight in these harried times.  I like to think that taking a breath, harkening back in time to re-enact the courage, strength, faith of yesterday's pioneers can only help to strengthen the young people of today bringing to them some of those character traits they will need going forward in their lives.  I see it as a positive step the Church is taking in offering up opportunity for young people to bond in what could perhaps be called renewed old ways of the ancestors.

I have often said to my husband that I have long had a testimony of faith, and if I lacked the language to express it well, nonetheless the testimony was not diminished because I lacked language of expression.  Even so, I yearned to have a language of faith expression.  When I read the book my husband wrote, I recognized the faith I so wanted to express.  The book he wrote is a fiction based on history of his own heritage as descendant of Martin Handcart Company survivor.   When I met my husband, he was in the throes of struggling in his own faith crisis, and I well remember my amateurish advice to him when he recounted his faith crisis to me.  Lacking the command of religious language as he might have and feeling quite shaky in offering any advice at all, the phrasing not to throw the baby out with the bathwater was the best I could come up with at the time.  He can speak and write circles around me using expressive faith language and I could feel the absence of knowing how to express myself in faith terms, wondering how I would carry on faith conversations with him.  I resolved that I would grow my own faith language in an effort to deepen the conversations we shared.

Over the years as he and I have explored so many avenues in exploring, seeking, deepening our own faith journeys, I was ever reluctant to fully embrace the LDS faith, fearing any number of things but primarily how I would be viewed both by people in the faith and people who saw the faith in a less favorable light.  I think I've written it before, and if I haven't written it, I've certainly shared it in conversations with my husband - my sense of logic fights with my sense of emotion. They do not share the same playing field at all, however it seems safer to remain in my head (logic) than to let go and let my emotions rule.  And given the trauma of my young child years, I was not easily given to the quivering lip, it had been beaten out of me, scared out of me, terrified out of me and strongly considered the wrong behavior to have according to my persecutor.  Tears were not permitted, or tolerated as acceptable to any situation, even though the situations called for more than tears, called for a howling of the soul.

  I have known Jesus since I was a small child.  There has never been a question in my mind of that - never!    Over the years, youth to teen to young adult, I looked for language to describe my sense of Jesus as defined by dominant faith practices, thinking religious people knew better than I how to define and express Jesus.  I wasn't raised 'churched' as the saying goes, so it was hit and miss for me often along the way, coupled with moving every two years and availing myself of whatever church or faith offered itself to me where we wound up living.  I think I can take solace in the recognition that I never stopped looking, and while I tired, I didn't stop.  In that regard, I like to borrow some of the phrasing I've heard describing putting one foot in front of another even when the circumstances look bleak.  I could empathize strongly with the handcart people pushing and pulling their handcarts in extremely bleak circumstances.

My eager young child enthusiasm would be fired up when a preacher called people to come down and be saved, be baptized, be born again, and down I would go, feeling the strength of my sense of Holy Spirit touching my heart.  Sadly, in retrospect, too many religious faiths were too eager to baptize new members, with little recognition or regard to what I was feeling, looking for, wanting, hungering and yearning for - the connection to the Jesus of my child years - the Jesus who comforted me, kept me safe, got me through some exceptionally tough and extreme situations.   I was disappointed more often than not, and knowing that my sense of Jesus was very real, willing to keep exploring, keep seeking till I found a match.  I'm not sure I ever did find a match, and it certainly gave me cause to do a lot of research over the years, digging, contemplating, praying, searching, yearning.

This very evening, taking personal delight in the dvd of the young people re-enacting the handcart experience, I realized in a round about way, in what might be called a personal revelation or a prompting that I Had already found a match, I had already found a people with faith, as deep and great as my sense of my own faith.   A recognition that I wasn't looking for definitions to define what I already knew, a revelation if you will, that what I had already found some twenty years ago with my husband was not so much borrowing from his heritage as much as it was owning my own testimony, owning aloud my own faith.  I was elated with feeling to realize I could stand alone even in his faith of birth, on my own in my own testimony, and elated to recognize that his ancestors didn't leave it only for him and his posterity, but she left it for me as well.

After watching the dvd tonight with my husband, I pulled him aside out of the din of the jubilant noise of young people, to share with him what I believed to be personal revelation for me.   I can own a deep and abiding faith, the one I have always had, and in much the same way that I can deeply respect the St John's Episcopal Cathedral building in Spokane has application from the time it was built for the longevity of the generations that will come after, so can I deeply respect that Mary Jarvis and her children left a heritage for the generations that will come after, myself included.  Recognition that I don't have to borrow from my husband's heritage, I don't have to continue to feel extraneous or peripheral to the community because I wasn't born into the church, rather  a convert, therefore not of the heritage, somehow less authentic because I wasn't a lifetime member of the church, didn't have family in the LDS faith, didn't have the family relationships.  I think the Bishop of my home Ward tried to help me to see that some years back when I expressed to him how inauthentic I felt in my calling as a Relief Society teacher and he went down the list of members who were converts, not born in the church.

 Appreciation as of tonight in recognition of something that has been eluding me all these years;  Mary Jarvis gave her all that I might have this opportunity to own my faith as well as the language in which I choose to express my faith.  It's not a newly acquired faith, not even a conversion, more a recognition of what I have owned since my child years.  Jesus talked to me then and when I listen, I can still feel the presence, the depth of unshakable faith, Jesus gave it to me to own, the means, the venues in how that message is driven home to me is the gift Jesus gives - to us all.  Mary Jarvis was mirroring a message Jesus gave us long ago, and there was more than a kernel of truth for me to learn in recognizing a message coming to me through my husband's heritage.

 I don't have a testimony of this church as is popularly cited when members share their testimony as this being the one or only true church, but I do have a powerful testimony of this church for reasons I haven't fully allowed myself to entertain or own.  And with that, I can say I, in fact, did hear the oft quoted 'still small voice' talking to me this evening, wrapping up for me years and years of rigorous studies, rigorous research to find expression for the Jesus who came to me as a young child whispering in that small voice the words of comfort that I desperately needed.  He walks with me still, yet today, and I can own my sense of Him, no matter where I find myself.  That is, I believe, the truth of my testimony, that is what I believe Mary Jarvis gave of herself in her faith given the travails, the traumatic challenges she and her children along with the others of the handcart companies faced in their journey to Zion.    And quietly in the lyrics of one of my mother's favorite hymns, what she sang to us at bedtime when I was a child, even as I heard the lyrics the way I wanted to hear them -  'I come to the Garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses, and the sound I hear, coming on my ear, none other has ever heard.  He walks with me, He talks with me, he tells me I am His own -----------
                               and with that may I say Amen.

New Ward, Cathedral, Grandchildren

Last post shows as Aug 2012.  Now it is July 2013, with almost a year passing in which I have not posted to this blog. Which does not mean that my mind has been quiet over this past year.  Quick catch up;  continuing to attend LDS church, study of the Book of Mormon in the Sunday School class, appreciating the sense of community via Relief Society, and one on one participation with the members in various forms and callings.  Continuing as 3rd Sunday R.S. teacher which is intriguing challenge to me in teaching via the narrative while holding as true as I can to my own sense of the narrative.  Continuing R.S. visiting teaching, and sometimes finding the visits admirable, other times not so much.  Continuing preparing meals for the missionaries, visiting at homes of members in difficult circumstances, and enjoying the participation in the social activities as put on by the Ward.

In December 2012 my daughter asked for our help in watching her two little ones as she took on a promotion that would scramble her hours in a non-consistent work schedule manner.  The continued emphasis in R.S. on the grandparenting element of families gets to me in that I miss my own grandchildren who are scattered about living in different geographical locations.  It seems I have three sets of two; 2 granddaughters in colleges in different locations, 2 grandchildren who are now into their teens and tweens having grown up as children of military parent with father deployed three different times (Iraq twice, Afghanistan once) over the children's growing up years and they have lived in multiple military bases over the years, and lastly these 2 grandchildren who are young enough at 7 and 8 years for us to still have an investment in their growing up years.   My husband, supporting my wish to have more immediate connection and contact with grandchildren agreed to the arrangement to provide after school care for them.  It meant living across the state from our home and living for a time in my daughter's home.

Skipping the challenges that all of us had over the period of time we did live in my daughter's home, we found it more comfortable to take on temporary situation of finding our own apartment, while keeping our home on the other side of the state.  We found relief in some of the challenges, the grandchildren more receptive to our focused attention on them specifically, the parents more relieved to focus on their own employment and parenting challenges.  This is their second go around in parenting as they have a daughter they already raised attending college.  I detect some degree of exhaustion in both parents, yet they persevere and that speaks well of them, imo.  These are energetic youngsters that keep us on our toes all the time!

In the interim, we felt blessed to take the grandchildren with us to our new Ward, and they seemed to take well to the 3 hour block.  A dramatic shift for them in very irregular church attendance to three hours all at once.  They seemed to adapt well.   I found the urban Ward setting considerably different from the rural Ward we attended in our small town on the other side of the state.  Younger people, younger families, energy abounding and I could be telling of my own insecurities yet it felt like these young people weren't sure what to do with us 'older people'.   I immediately missed my former Ward, the R.S. women I knew and loved and the people of the Ward whom I'd come to have great affection.

It occurs to me that the older people in my former Ward give us immediately something in common - our age, many of us retired, many of grandparents.  While there were some young families with children and they were respectful to those of us who had a longer lifeline, I realized that I had cut my teeth in a Ward with people who already had commonalities with me in living rural, retired, and reaching that period of life that is less busy with tending to children and growing family.  Now I found myself in a Ward that was abuzz with activities related to a younger mindset, growing their families, growing their careers and economic status.  I found myself feeling like I didn't really fit well here whereas the Ward I came from it was easy to become part of their community.

In short time we learned of a disturbing situation that had emerged in the new Ward.  There was a newly called Bishop, young man with family, capable and able. He was called because the Bishop called before him had resigned within a week of being called.  He and his wife were still members of the Ward. In fact, his wife is one of the Primary Teachers and was very warm, responsive in taking the initiative to get our grandchildren into their classes. However, the reason he had resigned was what was disturbing for me.  He held the position in former President Bush administration as the psychologist who developed interrogation techniques that amounted to torture, ie, waterboarding of detainees post 9/11.   (link to newpaper article reporting on the incident)

Given my years of advocacy against U.S. invasion of Iraq, therefore the abhorrent behaviors that followed the invasion, it was difficult to reconcile my own political, personal beliefs against what I learned about the calling of this Bishop in this Ward.  The Ward was new to me, yet my activities in the decade following 9/11 were not new to me.  I had much difficulty reconciling within myself, recognizing that my maturity would be invaluable aid to me, I couldn't reconcile having my young grandchildren in an exposed and vulnerable position, given that they were not familiar with the LDS church belief set.  It was an uncomfortable development.

 I had initially been pleased to introduce the youngsters to the LDS church setting, even having awareness that both my husband and I would take exception to some of the Church teachings.  We believed we could work with the children and their parents in finding a balance in how the children would assimilate the teachings.  However, we were less confident we could find a way to explain to the children the vast discrepancy between what we stood for over the past decade and therefore against, and a church calling that embraced what we had stood against in their calling of the man whose profession was an affront and insulting to our own values.  Appreciating that this is God's judgment to make, not mine, does not negate the reality of the very real human dilemma for us in dealing appropriately with the particular circumstance in which we found ourselves with regard to the grandchildren.

As we explored our new surroundings in the city to which we were living, we had occasion and frankly reason to visit what was a well known tourist visitation site, in St John Episcopal Cathedral situated on a well known hill location causing the Cathedral to overlook the city.   Built in gothic architectural tradition, we were fortunate on the day of our visit that there was to be a tour of the Cathedral, and we were the only two this particular day to be taking the tour, meaning we were given very much one on one attention to the details of the Cathedral building.

We were in awe of the sacred beauty of the Cathedral, in search of a safe, temporary spiritual home in the plight of our experience with our new Ward.  It made sense to us to attend a familiar worship service, given that we had spent several years in an Episcopal chapel environment in our home town before our time with the LDS Ward in the same town.   The Episcopal congregation was comprised of older people who had long history with their Parish, going back to the days before it was built, raising money to build it, and a lifetime of attendance and service from their congregational positions in their Episcopal Parish church.

We were among the youngest in attendance and we were already approaching our senior years.  We were 'hands-on' in many capacities within the church given that it was a small, rural church.  At the time, we sometimes felt we could not keep up of all that was asked of us, in addition to the timing of our own activism roles as military family in the protestation of the Iraq war.  We eventually devoted our time to the activism in hopes of contributing to being a part of bringing the Iraq war to a quick close before more lives, those of our own military men and women and those of Iraqi civilian men, women and children were lost in war.  

We saw this, felt this as a ministry we were called to at that time and place in history, more so than the hands on assistance in the liturgy services within the chapel that commanded our time on Sundays at the expense of sharing the news of a different kind of ministry given our role as military family opposed to the war in Iraq.  We were often invited to speak at large conventions and this often time meant weekend travel, precluding our presence at the Chapel on Sundays, also preparations that demanded a good deal of our time impeding the time we were able to give to the liturgy with the Parish congregation.

Providing this background material to show some of the reasoning as to our decision to attend services at St John's Episcopal Cathedral, giving us a bit of spiritual rest we badly needed at that time.  We took both grandchildren, and granddaughter immediately wanted to participate as an Acolyte, and she was quickly accommodated, thus began her walk as an Acolyte in the Liturgical procession and service within the realm of the Cathedral, itself a testimony to a long and cherished Christian tradition.  

We invited our daughter and son-in-law to visit a service, they did and my daughter had no difficulty in announcing to me she found the liturgy boring, that there wasn't much about it that resonated with her.  We attended the church service of an Evangelical Community Church they attend, complete coffee, comfortable chairs, a band and concert, a big screen projecting the talks/sermons, huge collection buckets, different buildings where the children attended children services, age-related.  I could definitely see the attraction for my daughter, given that the services seem completely arranged to be attractive to a younger set - a younger set that is abuzz with energy and it is indeed a lively service.   Perhaps more lively than my many years are accustomed in what has become my perspective of a 'sacred' worship service.

After the initial exchanges of visiting my church and I'll visit yours, I was pleased the parents permitted us to continue to take the children to worship services, first at the Ward, then to the Episcopal Cathedral, although grandson discontinued attending very shortly after those first visits.  Granddaughter continues with her Acolyte duties, be it carrying the cross, or the book from which the gospel is read, holding the thanksgiving plate, or helping lead the younger children into the Cathedral to be welcomed into the Communion.

Since we have moved into our apartment, and the situation has settled down some with continuing to watch our grandchildren, only in our own setting, not in their home, giving us some license to interact with them on our terms, respectful of their parents' wishes.  It is a reciprocal relationship in that their parents trust their children in our care and find it desirous even that we can offer them different forms of exposure and stimulation, reinforce values and standards as contributed by their parents, adding a few 'old fashioned' type values and standards of our own and we trust the parents in their care of their children, even as some of their values and standards differ from ours.

We are blessed in the Episcopal setting to have a Dean so willing to share abundantly not only his seminary training with us in his teachings, sermons, but as well giving a strong sense of the directions the Church is taking in shaking loose some of it's older, traditional viewpoints to embrace this time in history as many churches of many denominations, including LDS, struggle in attempt to read the barometers of what it means to be Christian in these times.  Of recent climatic change for the LDS Church to take on is the ruling of the Supreme Court on the issue of gay marriage and their new rights to federal level benefits just those of heterosexual marriages.

We are also blessed in the Episcopal setting to attend services within the Cathedral which is not typical of the Episcopal arrangement.  Typically congregational parish activities take place in a Parish chapel, not the Diocesan Cathedral.  This Cathedral is different in that regard in that it absorbed 3 of the city parishes when it was being built and continues to offer the building for services that would otherwise be performed in a chapel setting, as well as the multitude of services, performances, concerts that happen in Cathedral setting.  We are privileged to be able to take advantage of attendance to any and all activities held at the Cathedral, as is the public at large welcomed.  There is not a requirement that one be an Episcopal or baptized Episcopal.  All baptisms are honored as legitimate.  One can be confirmed to the Episcopal Church by their baptism be that baptism be within the Episcopal belief set or another belief set.

In my own story, I have felt the spirit in different denominations that I attended as a young child, a teen, and young adult and walked down the aisle to affirm my belief in the Saviour, agreeing to be baptized and I have been several times in different denominations that insist that only their belief set is the correct authority, therefore rendering my previous baptisms void....and it was so for my baptism in the LDS Church, even though my explanation that I had been baptized in several denominations, confirmed in the Episcopal faith, and did not see the value in yet another baptism in the LDS Church.  However, the LDS belief that they are the 'true' and 'restored' church and that whatever holy spirit, holy ghost, connection to Jesus and God I had before exposure to the LDS Church was not in it's own right good enough, strong enough or however it was stated to me, although intended to be lovingly stated, underscored the arrogance I came to see as part of the narrative of the LDS membership that this is the only true church.

I did gain a testimony, still have a testimony, only it is of Joseph Smith and far from the traditional narrative that he was a prophet, establishing the restored church, therefore the true church, the authority of the priesthood and that only by the keys of this priesthood could one walk their journey of progression.  However, this is my logical and intellectual pursuits, it is not my emotional response to the church membership.  It is exactly that emotional reaction and response that is triggered for me in appreciating that the good the LDS Church has to offer is comparable to other denominations, however, I do believe the LDS Church has a corner on building community and fellowship that other denominations might well envy.  And I say that with a smile and love in my heart.

Two of the young missionaries called on us recently while we were attending to the grandchildren.  We invited them in, and I asked them to give a lesson to the grandchildren.  Gotta love those young missionaries who in all earnestness, with sincerity of heart and the brightness that young people have, gave my grandchildren a heartfelt lesson based on their beliefs in the narrative of the LDS Church.   The children were attentive and fascinated.    We are known to our new Ward and it is my wish to pay a visit to our newest Ward, experience once again an urban setting with young, growing families, a Ward abuzz with energy, prosperity and see what kind of fit it has for us.   We reference it to the grandchildren as the 3 hour church to differentiate it from the 1 hour Episcopal church.  It's not easy to get that title, Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints or LDS or Mormon explained easily to the grandchildren, without a bit more exposure to the teachings.  Maybe, the Lord willing, and with God's help, we will find a home in our new Ward that can be an extension of our home in the Episcopal Cathedral.  

At the bible studies at the Cathedral, we are able to share some of the beliefs of the LDS church in a productive manner that meets with respect among the people at the study.  One of the men there told a story of two young missionary women who came to his home and asked what they might do to be of service to him, how they might help him, what he might need help with, could they perhaps clean the area alongside his driveway for him.  He agreed, they worked and worked hard, he brought them some gloves to soften the potential of callouses on their hands.  He was impressed with the young women and their devotion.  He did not know they were Mormon, he didn't have preconceived ideas about what that might mean, he shared with the class his appreciation for what those young women did in sharing service with him.   We affirmed his story in the approach the LDS Church is taking in encouraging the young missionaries to offer services, less proselytizing at initial contact and demonstrating what service can mean.  I am pleased and impressed with his story, we are pleased to be able to share our own experiences of the LDS Church.

Somehow though, I rather don't think that if I were to share the experiences of the Episcopal Church in an LDS meeting that it would meet with as much receptiveness as was met in the sharing of our LDS experience at our Episcopal bible study in the Cathedral.  It's a wait and see experience.  Having already attempted many times to share the broader Christian experiences I've had when I was in the LDS meetings at my former Ward, it was met with awkward, uncomfortable silence, and a quick reaction by someone or several to correct and adjust my perspectives to alignment with the LDS narrative.  I would expect something similar were I to share such again at this new Ward, however, I am content to wait and see, and within the LDS language, respectfully share what have been my other experiences that also equate to the Christian message.  

I miss the community and fellowship, and while we have placed ourselves in a self-appointed exile from the Church, it has not been the position of the Church or the membership to exile us from fellowship as members of the community.  That is an emotional experience that does not have as much to do with exchanges about theology, beliefs, doctrine, dogma, as much as it has to do with genuine human connection, and via human companionship, connection, a connection to our Lord, to Heavenly Father and part of the human community of being Children of God.

It is real enough...

What has transpired with us since last I made a blog entry?  Catching it up with brief  outline.  A visit to the Friends (Quakers) services in nearby community.  It is as is described, sitting quietly with others for 45 minutes, contemplating and no sound.  Brief sharing at end of service.  We tried, we really did, and the service just didn't resonate strongly with us.  I feel like we have done a fairness in completing our explorations of other churches, church services, church communities.

 January was our wedding anniversary month. The first part of the month, I came down sick with flu or winter cold or some kind of bug that was going around the county where we live.  I was down pretty much from Christmas day through the first two weeks of January.  Arthur went to Ward services Christmas weekend, and when members asked where I was, he explained I was home sick, not eager to share the germs with the members.

We had invitation to attend Christmas dinner with one of the member families and when she learned I was home ill, she said they would bring Christmas dinner to us.  Oh, not, please, that is just too much kindness on Christmas day.  The family has children, live about 1/2 hour away and I felt that would just not be the way for them to spend Christmas Day. I phoned her to dissuade her from coming out and I was anxious not to share the germs with her family.   Her husband answered and was okay with the change in plans but not before offering to drive out with a meal for us, staying in the car and having Arthur come out to pick it up.  Of course I said No, this was just too much, more so given that it was Christmas Day.   Nonetheless, their act of willing kindness has left a very strong, indelible imprint on me.  I'm just not used to this brand of sharing willingness.

I teach the lesson in Relief Society on third Sunday and it had snowed in the county that particular Sunday.  Church services cancelled.  We don't get snow here very often, and if we do, it's for about a week at the most.  Yes, I know we are indeed wimps here in Western Washington when it comes to snow. I didn't have to give the lesson that Sunday and wasn't sure how it works for the following Sunday -- carried over or a pass.  It was a pass.    

January - our wedding anniversary month.  My husband and I shared and enjoyed couple time together most of the month, and could not have planned anything better than this intimate time together, just the two of us in our beach house in a winter month.

We are well into February now and my collection of Mormon related library books have been stacked on the coffee table while I read through parts of them.  Terryl Givens 'People of Paradox, A History of Mormon Culture' (I like it), Grant Hardy 'Understanding the Book of Mormon; A Reader's Guide'  (reading the Book of Mormon as literature), Fawn Brodie 'No Man Knows My History' (don't know what that big controversy was about .. for me it was an informative and helpful biographical of Joseph Smith), and a start on Richard Bushman 'Rough Stone Rolling' (didn't get far into it - enough reading on Joseph Smith, letting some of it digest).    By far the book having the most impact for me was reading Samuel Morris Brown 'In Heaven As It Is on Earth; Joseph Smith and The Early Mormon Conquest of Death'.

As it turns out, this Sunday it was my assignment and I gave the 3rd Sunday lesson,  from the George Albert Smith manual; topic - 'The Prophet Joseph Smith, God's Instrument in Restoring The Truth'.   It feels to me like all that reading will pay off in helping me to give the lesson in a manner conducive to my own interpretation via the lens of George Albert Smith talk on the matter.  

We had invite to dinner at the Bishop's house with his wife and another couple from the Ward last Sunday.  We spent the entire afternoon and well into the evening with them.  This Sunday we had invite from another family at the Ward, spent the afternoon with them, dinner, movie, and participated in their Family Home Evening with their children.

The Ward had a talent show on Saturday, and we spent enjoyable evening with member families.  Arthur provided a piano medley, which was well appreciated.  I showed three of my paintings, which were also well appreciated.  The greater fun was watching the youngsters share their talents, and we were particularly looking forward to a solo performance by one of the boys we knew had been working on his musical contribution.  We had driven out to his home the night before to do a run through with Arthur to accompany the boy in his solo hymn 'Nearer My God To Thee'.  They did their practice which brought another invite from the parents that we stay for dinner.  This is the same family who had offered to drive all the way out to our home bring Christmas dinner to us.   One more time we had to turn them down and couldn't stay for dinner; we were expected at the Ward for clean-up duty as we were on the clean-up crew that week.

Also this week I had Visiting Teaching spent time visiting some of the Sisters.  Arthur had Home Teaching last week.   Having now captured the events, in no way does the writing capture the flavor of what is happening to me inside.  And frankly speaking, it feels too personal to write about.  For the record, though, it is the people of this Ward with their continued kindness, outreach, genuine enjoyment of us, sharing so much of themselves with us and their willingness to embrace us into their church and personal families that has me in studied wonderment.   While I feel like I have seated the logical elements, ie, church historicity, doctrines, beliefs and practices, well enough in my head (innoculated), the contradiction is in finding so much genuine kindness among the people.

For me this walk into this Church has taken a serious turn and I'm afraid of it.  I am finding that I am wanting more of this, yearning to keep moving forward into the life, and less about leaving substantial room to back out in case it erupts in my face.  If it does, well it does, and somehow I don't think it will.  If it does, what has been and is real enough is that these are authentic relationships at this point.  And they know I am not one of them, they know I am not even a 'convert' in the traditional sense of the word.  They know me for who I am, what my beliefs are, and should there be some kind of eruptive disruption in the future, what is happening now is real enough.

The online  Facebook discussion communities of members who are in various stages on the continuum in their faith walks are of great help to me in seating my own walk.  For me it is fluid, it is moving, it has not remained static.  I'm rather pleased that I began this blog as something I can look back on in retrospect to see what my perspective was, is, and will become.  As of this writing, as of today, as of now, it is real enough.  It is more than a religion, more than a belief set, and I don't yet have the words to write or describe it as it fits for me.

Summer Time, Social Time

What has happened since I last posted to this blog in July?   Lots.  Summarizing.

July we attended Pioneer Picnic at church member's home, that home being on a large property bordered by a creek.  Sunny day, casual fun. July also is the month of my birthday and my oldest daughter's birthday, and we made arrangements for family weekend get together with stay over at cottages on the ocean.  Another 3rd Sunday in teaching the lesson in Relief Society for me.  I did a stand in for vacationing teacher for a Primary class for a couple of Sundays.  Fortunately for me, the lesson plan was about Missionaries, so I invited the two Missionaries into the class to share their experiences with the children.  Afterwards we did a make believe with the children being missionaries visiting potential investigator.  They had some fun defining who would play what role.

My husband was taking a stint as stand in for the vacationing Primary pianist.  I rather knew where he was going with that and sure enough, after a few weeks he was given that 'calling', releasing the woman who had held that calling for 3 years.  She was pleased with the respite.  I understood, and also felt he had abandoned me to the Sunday School sessions.  I use the word abandoned because I still have many questions about the manner in which this church chooses to interpret New Testament gospel.   I'm struggling with finding the established protocol for asking the questions respectfully, and in meaningful way without it being a challenge to the Teacher or confrontational or contentious.  Sometimes though, things need to be said aloud, and I'm still struggling some with saying such things in a tone that reflects respectful dialogue.  My husband knows much about my viewpoints and I have appreciated having him sitting next to me in the Sunday School period.  Now I am sitting alone, and feeling like he rather abandoned me before I was ready to be alone in that particular class.

Still July and we participated in a community meeting regarding the potential closing of a Dept. Social and Health Services Community Service Office in our area.  Resources our community can ill afford to be without, and with a senior aged population, the geographical terrain to get to another region is prohibitive. It is part of our activism efforts to alert the community and encourage their participation in keeping the much needed community resource office.

August was all about my husband, his birthday coupled with his retirement at end of the month.  Birthday celebration, retirement celebration, getting all those last minute preparations completed to transition health insurance, pension, medical and dental visits, paperwork processing.  An unusual event did happen in that four of his children arranged a surprise get together for his birthday/retirement.   Another 3rd Sunday in teaching the lesson in Relief Society for me.

Moving into September and Labor Day celebrations with our new friends in another Ward who come up annually for Memorial and Labor Day camp outs.  I felt moved to give my first 'testimony' at the first Sunday Fast and Testimony service to thank Sister A. for the helpful way she explained her understanding of Priesthood as an office separate from the men.  Somehow her explanation of how she viewed it clicked with me as I have had problems with the separate roles of male and female in this church, males seeming to hold the 'authority' type roles, which is contrary to my experiences in the world working side by side with men holding jobs with equal responsibilities, holding supervisor positions instructing men in their responsibilities.  The structure in this church has felt like steps backwards in time to the pre-feminist era of the gains women made in the 1970's with the galvanized feminist movement. While many have tried to reassure me that women do not hold subservient roles in this church, and are in fact, highly regarded, I still see that as having limitations for women in the expectations for women's roles in this church.  I hope to expand in sharing my thoughts on this at another time.

His sister from Utah came for her annual week visit.  Our schedule that week had several social activities, joining our out of town friends in a camping dinner, an evening wedding and reception of  young members of our Ward, and we had been asked by the Bishop to attend Stake Conference, he to play piano, me to sing with our impromptu 'choir'.  Also our Ward was to provide dessert for the Stake Conference, about 300 people.  We had a quick practice after services Sunday before Stake Conference weekend.  He sat at piano and we, as the improvised choir surrounded him at the piano.  All appreciated his playing, and the choir leader (she does have a degree in music) showcased him by asking him to play the third verse of the song with the trills, twinkles and extras that he does that makes the music more than a straightforward hymn.  His talent and ability as pianist is well regarded and I think our Bishop was eager to showcase him at Stake Conference.  Sure enough, he played beautifully and many came up to thank him and express how taken they were with how he played, something he possesses within himself that makes itself known spiritually in how he plays the piano, and it resonates strongly with people when they hear him play.  I know, I have heard it often from many who wish to express to me how they react and respond to his music.

I'd say August into the first week of September was the month of my husband.  And I'm pleased, happy, and take pride in his humility that indeed, this has been his moment.

Granddaughter to visit at our home this week.  We will spend a few days at my mother's home, supporting her as she deals with a medical procedure. We will be spending weekend with my son and his fiance, then a day with his son as they put together music for his daughter's wedding at end of the month.   It's been a summer filled with family and social activities. As the Autumn season makes it's way, we will close out the summer having experienced fullness of spirit with loving friends, family and our new church family.  New chapters ahead in our lives with him retired now, and us with new opportunities as well as new challenges straight ahead.

Getting familiar with the layout of the church building

I came across this link which I'm sharing here.  It is a pdf which shows the basics of the interior set up of LDS church buildings.   As I understand it, the LDS church building that we attend is not the same building that many of the long term members attended back when it was the 'white chapel building on the hill'. Since I don't have an earlier history to compare it to, I am getting acquainted with the church building as it relates to other church buildings where I have spent time, ie, the Episcopal Church, other Protestant denominational churches, Methodist, Baptist, community churches, Buddhism, Shinto, Native American.   Having grown up a child of military family, there was a lot of moving around, and attending churches in the proximity of where we resided at the time.   I am initially struck by the absence of many elements that I am more familiar with, as the cross icon,  alter, candles, banners, but otherwise there are striking similarities.  The pews, the chapel part, the dais or choir section, the hospitality room.  The LDS church includes in it's buildings what is called a cultural hall which serves as a multi-purpose room, has sports (basketball) markings on the wood floor, foldable round tables and chairs, so the room is used for social, holiday, funeral, children's and family activities.  It also has separate rooms where the lessons are held separately for children; women; men.

It continues to take me some acclimation to get used to what is not there, while also embracing what is there that hasn't been there in other churches I've attended.  I do miss the candles.  Lighting a candle in  prayer for someone or something happening in one's personal life.  I do miss the ritual of the Episcopal Eucharist.  While the LDS Sacrament is ritualistic, I do prefer the elements of the Eucharist. I can easily get used to the absence of the cross, but unlike the views of the LDS church, which state they do not wish to worship His suffering, I have too long a history in viewing the cross in a quiet, personal spiritual manner that is not likely offensive to Him or others in that it is merely a different way to show reverence and respect.

However, there are many elements in the LDS services that I find I am appreciating as also a show of reverence and respect in a different format.  I do a lot of mental translation in trying to recognize similarities while appreciating differences.  On the one hand, as I understand it the earlier Mormon church did not want to replicate elements of Catholic worship services and were opposed to rote repetitions.  On the other hand, whenever anyone in the LDS church in these modern times gives a 'testimony', I often hear rote repetitions along the lines of bearing testimony that has some stock phrasing (those who know it will know what I mean).

I value the parts of those personal testimonies that tell a bit of story the person is wishing to share, and I value that for the most part the person sharing is quite moved by what he/she is sharing.  I value that others are moved by their testimonies, enough sometimes to generate tears of sympathy or empathy or both.  I appreciate the efforts at respect that are demonstrated one to another.  Where that falls down, in my opinion, is in the reinforcement of what is considered 'doctrinally correct' which has the effect of shutting down further discussion/conversation.  For me developing the conversation requires differing views be shared respecfully, which is a process whereby people can consider varying view points and get to a place of arriving at personal conclusions, which are subject to change in accordance with their own life experiences.

Back to the church building.  Overall I am pleased to arrive at the building, knowing a bit more about what will take place in the building.   I am pleased with the concepts of the attentiveness to who will be using the rooms and for what purpose.  I love the concept of the cultural hall, even while I'm not sure that I like socializing in a basketball court.   A familiar concept to me is that for the most part what I am participating in that day is what is happening in LDS churches internationally.  For the most part there is some similarity to the Episcopal rotational study for services used internationally, even while doctrinally the beliefs of the two churches are quite different. I like the antiquity of the Episcopal church building we attended, and I like the modern convenience of the LDS church building we attend now.

 I like church buildings in general, and often think I wouldn't mind living in one, a sacred space in which to have a home.  I've seen church buildings converted to restaurants, and occasionally converted to a home space.   I've seen church buildings abandoned, and feel sadness knowing that their time of useage has passed, wondering who will purchase the building and how it will be used.  I think I feel the sadness of the loss of the sense of the sacredness of the space, even while I appreciate the cathedral nature provides us, mostly free of charge. Somehow though, I don't think  LDS church buildings would convert so easily to another kind of space useage.  Maybe I need a bit more time with the building so that it takes on the intimacy for me that I have found in other church building spaces.

Caring for Newborn

My husband just left for work.  We have a morning routine where we exchange thoughts, prayers, blessings for a few moments before he heads out the door.  This morning he played a couple of hymns I like on the piano and I sang along.  Feeling cheerful and uplifted, I told him I am beginning to find my niche within this Mormon structure.   Afterwards, when we shared our together time he said in passing he liked what was happening for me and it was our 'baby'.  Oh so much more profound than he could have known when he said it, I stopped in my tracks to consider it and told him that is exactly what I have been doing since February, like tending to a newborn, I have been giving full borne attention daily to nurturing this newborn, leaving off attending to other elements in my life that for the moment have taken on a lower priority.

A symbolic concept, to be sure, and I like it.  It is our baby, our newborn, and deserving of the attention being given to care for, nurture, and give time for this child to become the center of our lives.  A labor of love,  in the woman's way of creating life, giving birth, attending to the new child.  I love the symbology and it does indeed reflect the loving time we have shared and given to creating this new life.  I hold it dear, we hold it dear.  Amazing what a few words will inspire in imagery.

Last weekend was Memorial Day weekend.  We had a lot of activity in different yet similar arenas over those four days.  We had made plans to meet his son's new baby and it was rescheduled several times - their scheduling conflict, ours, and a holiday in between the original weekend date and when we finally were able to come to a mutually agreeable weekend date.  In between, we have had our baptism, and family coming from out of town and out of state to participate in our baptism.  His daughter was among one who came from out of town to be at our baptism.  She knew of our plans to visit new grandchild, and had offered to have us stay overnight with her and her fiance.  We were appreciative of the offer, and had a thoroughly pleasant visit with both of them.  Next day we went to his son's home to meet new grandchild.  His children were there and it was pleasant enough. There has been a long term estrangement from or with his children so when I say pleasant enough, it means it was awkwardly pleasant for all.  Except for the grandchildren, they are, as most all children are, spontaneous and engaging for their own reasons.   We then visited the cemetery where two of my granddaughters are buried.  Somehow appropriate for Memorial Day weekend.  Drove home again, off to the church for the chili feed.

At the chili feed we met new friends who are from the visiting Ward, had some fun exchanged with them when we explained why we were not going to be at Sunday services in that we planned a drive up the Washington coast to the new town Seabrook or south down the Oregon coast.  Explaining the concept of Seabrook as a new coastal community designed  to be a walk about community and our new friends trying to imagine it brought up the word commune, which became a running joke for all of us over the next two days.  We also met  a young man from the visiting Ward who is stationed at Fort Lewis and will be deploying to Afghanistan in next two weeks.  He shared conversation with my granddaughter and I asked if I could send him letters, post cards, care packages while he is deployed.  He agreed, although, I'm sure he is surrounded by family who will be sending him all those things and more.  Since my granddaughter has her stepfather deployed in Afghanistan just now, it was meaningful to me that this chance encounter with another young soldier headed for the same destination should fall into our laps.

The lovely elderly couple who live in this little village where we live have befriended us and taken us with some affection as a part of their family.  They were charming to my granddaughter as were our newly met friends at the chili feed Saturday night at the church, and again at the camp out Sunday night at the KOA.  At the Saturday chili feed, he quietly gave my granddaughter a Book of Mormon and another book 'As A Mustard Seed' which is a history of the people of our local Ward back to it's formation days. She quietly and graciously accepted his offering.  I'm proud of how gracious she has been with the members of our's and the visiting Ward.  This is not likely quite what she would have put on her list of things I'm going to do on Memorial Day, and yet, I think she thoroughly enjoyed the contact and community on both days.  And we shared a 'Girls' day on Sunday, she and I, with a drive partially down Oregon coast, she did the driving, her car and I think she enjoyed the curves and twists with the enthusiasm of a young driver.

 Our affection for this lovely elderly couple is growing, and since they are in their spry 80's, we know our time with them is short, and we know it will be meaningful.  He is WW 11 veteran, and I made a mental note that he was wearing his cap to the camp out on Memorial Day weekend. We must invite them to dinner at our house soon, they have twice now had us to Sunday dinner at their home.

My husband will be going with his home teaching companion (the same man of the elderly couple I mentioned) early this month and surprisingly (or not) enough their lesson will be on tithing.  Which is the lesson I had to instruct on 3rd Sunday last month.  A person could start to think there is a message we are to be receiving and assimilating.  Since he and I spent a lot of time processing the preparation I put into giving the lesson, he will be using some of that material and reassembling it in his own manner for his home teaching assignment this month.  He and his teaching companion agreed to trade off every month in who would give the lesson, and this month it will be my husband's turn to present the lesson.

I'm still waiting for my visiting teacher assignments, there has been some sort of  interruption for Relief Society President who is taking some time off just now and her newly called Counselors are picking up the slack.  I'm in no hurry, all in good time.  Meanwhile, the studies, podcasts, reading, blogs, books keep my time fully engaged.

'Be Still My Soul'

A Calling, Home Teaching, Visiting Teaching

Last Sunday I was given my first 'Calling'.  What does that look like?  The Ward Bishop asked to speak with me, asked my husband if he would mind, to which my husband, with a big smile on his face, shook his head no and said go right ahead.  Because my husband already knows how much of this works, he was amused, lovingly so, but amused nonetheless.   The Bishop asked if I would agree to being called to be a Relief Society (R.S)  Teacher (once a month, third Sunday, even numbered lessons).  Ahh, sure, I can do that is what I said.  He talked with me a while longer, and my questions for him were along the lines of being very new to these doctrines, I was very likely to be more off track than on track in 'teaching' anything.  I have no wish to offend the sisters.  He encouraged me with some instruction in how this church conducts situations in which 'discussion' is encouraged and  some methods to ensure it remain gentle, loving discussion.    Okay, so this is my new function in R.S. meetings, and I already envision the sisters teaching me more than I would be 'teaching' them.  I'm both flattered and also mildly amused as this may be a gentle, loving method to get me up to speed in learning some of the doctrine of this church.

Tuesday night my husband went out with another male member of the church to complete 'Home Teaching Visits' to the families assigned to them.  Better that he should write or talk of his own experiences, these are not new to him, new to me as his newly baptized wife, but not new to him at all.

Wednesday night R.S. President visited me at my home to help orient me to my new function (calling).  There will be the usual formalities on a Sunday where it is announced and followed at some point by a process of 'setting apart'.  My first 'teaching' experience will be this Sunday, using the manual/book the church uses and the lesson will be on tithing.   How fitting since I still have personal issues to work through with the concept of tithing.  She and I  talked some about how I viewed tithing, especially in relation to my prior employment and the impact on families at lower end of economical scale, for which this county is particularly known.   What is the difference between a church requesting a collection and a church requesting a tithing?  Well, there is to be the crux of my 'teaching' this Sunday in giving this lesson.

She also asked me if I would be willing to be a Visiting Teacher.   Home Teacher, Visiting Teacher ...  I hear these words used frequently, and haven't figured out which is which, why, and functions.  She explained that Home Teachers are male (priesthood) who visit the family and Visiting Teachers are women who tend to the women.   I agreed to participate as a visiting teacher.  Since we are located some miles from the town served by the Ward, and we are down to one vehicle temporarily, I had some concerns about time frames.  She explains that the visiting teaching can be done by phone calls, letters, or home visits.  Another sister who lives in our little village does her visiting teaching by phone calls.

Thursday night, we had Home Teachers visiting us at our home.  Awkward as that feels to me, it went fairly well in that it was more of a get acquainted visit.  I was pleased that both of the men have formal professions one as superintendent of the local school district, and the other a retired college counselor.  I'm not going to say I was altogether comfortable with the visit, given some of the topics and at one point one made use of the word 'liberal' somewhat disparagingly.  It quickly became clear though, that his intent was in a different direction related to his professional field, and perhaps not aimed at those of us who may hold and cherish our 'liberal' views.  I wanted to be entirely honest and forthcoming in my belief set, the story of my husband's return and my reasoning for baptism into this church in sharing information about us with them.  The discussion took on a respectful tone, a sharing that I found useful, and the discussion soon shifted away from topics that are not yet comfortable for me.  As I explained, I am not a 'convert' in the traditional sense of the word and bring with me my own testimony of faith which is steadfast irrespective of the differences in doctrinal teachings.  There are aspects of this religion that I much respect, and aspects that I am not likely to value as much.  I prefer to set my own pace, and not be instructed as to what I need to or should believe, nor the manner in which to express my beliefs, although I see learning the Mormon vernacular and the symbolic definitions as relevant to shared communication.  It was a good visit, and I think I shall appreciate their future visits as appreciable opportunities.

It has been an interesting week.   I can feel myself softening a little, pulling down some of the walls.  Given that my orientation to the LDS religion has been from an unfavorable vantage point from several directions, understandably I have adopted a somewhat defensive position.   It does indeed appear that these are caring people who do have an interest in caring for one another.  I'm not yet sure that the established methodology for how the members care for each other is in the best interest of the individual or the best interest of the organization.  My thinking is that it is in best interest of the organization, rightly so, with the bigger challenge being addressing the individuals as to their best interests when those interests conflict with the organizational interests.

As promised, details on our baptism

I have had ten days to think about it since our baptism weekend, and now feel ready to write my post about the experience.   In between was Mother's Day weekend, in which my two granddaughters chose to spend the day with me and we had  wonderful 'girl time'.   Given that the baptism weekend has taken on sacred qualities for me and my husband, I will give only the outline, and probably won't begin to try to capture the depth of emotion.

My husband and his two brothers have been somewhat estranged over the years of our marriage.  In my assessment, partially for their own familial  'brother' kinds of family relationships, inherent in all families.  The baptism served well to bring them together to forge new relationships going forward.  Both brothers, by choice, wanted to travel from Utah to our home in Washington (state) to witness our baptisms.  Taking it a step further they offered to perform the baptisms.  One brother (former ward bishop) baptized husband, and the other brother (in a bishopric) baptized me.  I have had my own falling out with the younger brother over a strong difference of opinion which has lasted over the years, making his performing of my baptism all the more significant.  This is the same brother who is musically talented, has played the piano all his life, and he performed the music for us that day.  His especially soulful rendition of the song we chose for my husband 'Consider the Lilies' was so personal between them, for all of us, and the impact was felt by all in attendance.

Having family as guests in our home over that weekend was a treasure.    Although our house is not well configured to be much accommodating to overnight guests, it was still a quite successful weekend.  They were accommodating to the restricted geographical circumstances of our home and I applaud them for their willingness to make the best of the situation.  We had traveled north to pick up my mother from Tacoma a day earlier, and she occupied the one guest room in the house, and family made do with air mattress and couch in the living room.  Friday night we were getting tucked in when the electricity went out (happens sometimes here, fortunately not so often).  That added to the 'camping out' feeling that already existed with the camping out sleeping arrangements, except made a tad more challenging getting it set up in candlelight.

Saturday, April 30, 2011, day of our baptism, and we knew to expect some of his cousins who wanted also to be there to witness the baptism.  My son and his lady were coming, and my husband's daughter was also coming.  In a suprise announcement, our niece, a mother of four little ones, was able with help of her family 'move mountains' to make the trip from Utah. I was planning to prepare a meal for all our guests after the baptism, and the head count started at one number and kept growing.   It was exciting and challenging all at the same time.   We had eighteen of our family at the baptism and to our home afterwards for dinner.  Travelers from Utah, Portland, Oregon, Woodland, WA, and most all were heading out that night, either back the same night to their homes or to a stopover location.   Earlier in the day, my sister-in-law suggested a walk and she took photos of interest points in our quaint little community.  Appreciating the walk with her as it was rather calming for me.

Sunday, May 1, 2011, day of our confirmation.  We went to the Sacrament meeting at our Ward, knowing the confirmations had been planned.   With family having performed the baptisms the day before, the Bishop wanted the confirmations to join us to the Ward family, and while respecting it was our choosing as to who would be 'the voice' in stating the confirmations, we had agreed to having a long time elderly member of the Ward speak the words.   I really did want the young missionary who has been with us from the start to have a more active role in my confirmation, and I also understood the symbolism of having a Ward member say the words.  The confirmations were done, including the young missionary, husband's two brothers, the Bishop, and the elderly member of the Ward.  It felt inclusive, covering all the bases, personal, family, missionary and Ward.

It happened to be what is called Fast and Testimony Meeting Sunday, whereby members who feel compelled can have time at the podium to share their faith experience.   Knowing how emotional it already was for us, and not likely either of us would be able to get more than a few words out should we choose to share our feelings, it still seemed an opportune time to me for my husband to speak given that his brothers were in attendance and we would not likely see them again in that capacity.   Dear husband did decide to try, and words were lost to him, he delivered a sense of his feelings by performing one of his beloved piano hymns, one that he had played upon the return of his mission all those decades earlier in the brother's lives together.
It was a quite moving way to give expression when words won't come.  

His brother followed up giving a powerful sharing of his feelings, in which he included what he knows of me in what he shared, catching me by surprise, the singular stand out thing for me he said was acknowledging my personal spirituality.   I will hold onto the content of what he said that Sunday for many years to come.   A few other people came up to share their experiences, and by then his other brother was seated, waiting his turn to share his thoughts, but the clock was ticking and had ticked away the time by the time his turn came, and I don't know this to be factual, but I believe he abbreviated his talk, probably changed the topic as well. But it is good; enough sustaining emotion had passed that weekend and may blessings abound.

Catching up, meeting Stake President, more Missionary lessons, more Sundays

For whatever reason I took it into my head that we were 'fast tracking' towards baptism, I was leaning forward eager to get through the steps and reach conclusion.  It was an impression I formed based on information given me in various exposures to this church experience, and perhaps with the information given me I formed my own sense of time lines (too long perhaps working in a bureacracy where timelines meant by this time these steps will have been taken toward conclusive goal).  

Now, a mere three weeks later (honestly, it feels like it's been two months), I'm starting to realize that it will be when it will be and all my endeavors to get and grasp as much information and knowledge as I can is not going to hurry the process.  Therein lying the operative word -- process.   Not the language of the LDS church, rather language more familiar to me I take a breath and slow down a bit reminding myself that a process is, in fact, a process, not always linear, not always with a timeline.

Since last post, we have had meeting/interview with the Stake President (last Sunday), two more lessons with the Missionaries and another Sunday 3 hour meeting block including a Linger Longer potluck afterwards.  My  continued question which I now state with personal amusement 'Where are the Women' has been taken seriously by the young missionaries and the last lesson a woman from the Ward was at the lesson with us.  You have to love the earnestness of those young missionaries!   Bless their hearts.   It wasn't quite what I had in mind, yet it does show some degree of appreciation for what I am asking as well as some degree of accommodation.

In the interim between lessons, and Sunday block meetings, we have been voraciously consuming information available on internet, audio podcasts in the Mormon Stories series, hosted by John Dehlin, reading, discussing, and audio mp3 of self assigned chapters of the Book of Mormon.  Arthur assigned the homework for us =  3rd Nephi and the King Benjamen part of Mosiah.  Plus the Book of Moroni, which Arthur read aloud the first week of lessons.   And the ongoing daily dialogue he and I share, have shared throughout our marriage.

It has been a whirlwind type experience as in moving quickly while I attempt to adapt my experiential belief set to this LDS belief set.  Wishing to bump up the pace a bit, we requested the missionaries suspend the usual introductory type lessons and permit us to get into more hefty aspects of the doctrines. They have been most accommodating and I appreciate their efforts more and more each time we meet with them.  Arthur shares stories of his time as a young missionary, then we'll hit some piece of knotty doctrine and I thoroughly appreciate how the young missionaries allow for either or both of us to express our opinions, while they find ways to incorporate those concerns into the lessons without dismissing our concerns as irrelevant.

I still find a goodly number of doctrinal concepts that I strongly disagree with while simultaneously trying to understand how those concepts were structured by looking at the scaffolding that built those belief sets.  The people I have met thus far have been sincere in their outreach, and it will take time (process) to build communication blocks that permit a flow of understanding the symbology, meanings, and power of words.  For now it more resembles elements of tower of babble to me in that I am speaking a language perhaps foreign to them and they are speaking a language foreign to me.  I truly do not wish to have the vocabulary I do use fall by the wayside in adapting/adopting a vocabulary more familiar to their comfort level.

Small example, the assurances that continue to come at me that I will feel the spirit, be filled with the Holy Ghost, feel the fire, grasp the understanding, develop the appreciation for the Book of Mormon, for Joseph Smith, and more such like codified terminology understood amongst themselves.  Sometimes I listen politely, sometimes I attempt to inject my viewpoint, sometimes I strive for mutual appreciation of what I am trying to convey, sometimes I shrug and say to myself another day and will try again.   Today one such concept was shared with me, as told by a great grandfather, about the fire of the Holy Ghost after not feeling it for long period after baptism and conversion, and when he did...........

While this is meant as encouragement, to my ears this is what I am hearing;   you don't yet have the Holy Ghost, you don't yet have the fire, you aren't yet converted and can't have these experiences until you are converted.    I'm fairly sure this is not the message they mean to give me, more that they are enthusiastic in sharing what I might expect or could expect, their enthusiasm for sharing their version of the 'good news' with me and that I am interested.  What I have not been able to convey is that I don't come to this church less the Holy Ghost, less the Holy Spirit, less my own personal close connection and walk with Jesus, and I do not have a desire or wish to convert or be converted.  I wish to understand, I wish to respect and appreciate but I am not without my own internal resources, and spiritual experience, values, ethics and morals, that make up who and what I am as a person, as a child, a daughter, a beloved of God.

I'm not of the belief that there is a prescribed way to experience the experience of spiritual connection to Creator, nor necessarily a set of behaviors that define Godliness.  On the other hand, I'm fully cognizant that for people to share in community there needs to be some standards of behaviors that promote valued morals and ethics that elevate the human spirit to desire to walk the path that elevates others' humanity.

What is highly significant thus far about this experience is the warm receptiveness of the people connected to us (families), and the new family of which we are seeking to become a part.  I do indeed understand this as the honeymoon phase in any new relationship, but in all honesty, I have to say the people have been very genuine is their outreach and skeptic that I am as in it's that early love bomb stage, somehow I don't think that is the case.  Time will tell, time will show, and meanwhile I trust firmly in the guidance of spirit that has served me well over my many years.  The Mormons like to say repetitiously to read the Book of Mormon, and pray about it.  I doubt that reading the Book of Mormon is going to cause me to feel any more spiritually connected than I currently do, and in fact, at this point, I'm more annoyed and angry with how Joseph Smith used the Book of Mormon to set in motion....but I digress.  As to praying, that is typically useful advice and sharing among people, and among different cultures there assuredly are different ways to pray.

I can live with the concept of calling out that a young Joseph Smith, derived from the religious atmosphere of his time a unique way to cope with or initiate another way to look at the scriptures (as in the bible, not the books he developed after).  I can live with the concept that in this regard Joseph Smith was considered a prophet of his time, many others were as well.  I can live with the concept that Joseph Smith introduced a revelatory church in that more revelation had come and was to come.  In the personal experience of revelation, it is not so unusual to experience a sustained strong spiritual connection as to feel that revelation is indeed happening uniquely to you while perhaps not fully appreciating that this is a more often than less commonality of experience among people.

My hurdle for this time being though is that the testimonies I hear point more to the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith than they do to the life, example of Jesus Christ (and not the Jesus Christ of the Book of Mormon --- that portrayal is too righteous, dry and a bit of a two dimensional character imprint that belies the fullness of my own experience of Jesus the Christ).  Each prayer and testimony ends with in the name of Jesus Christ, and that seems to be as much attention as is given to Jesus Christ.  While there is a strong emotional sharing of belief of the Atonement, it is still as if this is the backdrop from which Joseph Smith is then elevated along with the books he caused to be created as revelatory scripture.

I think perhaps for some, perhaps many, the means of expression so deeply personal and real to them is better met in the codified language which seems to be understood as the common language of sharing.  Thus saying such things as I have a testimony of  (fill in the blank ---- Book of Mormon as true, Joseph Smith as a prophet, Jesus Christ died for our salvation) that it has deeper commonality meaning of sharing emotional, spiritual experience than perhaps my ears are hearing at this time.  Ah, but you know this is called The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, it is not called nor imho should it be called The Church of Jospeh Smith of the Latter Day Saints, nor should Joseph Smith nor the subsequent books he brought forth be elevated above the due to be given to Jesus Christ.  Just a humble opinion, but it's mine and one I hold dear.