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.

What's my contribution to my Ward community?

It's never been easy to be the new person entering into a community, be that school, work, church, or affiliations within the community where a person lives.   Having been raised a child in a military family, moving from military base to military base, some of the time overseas, I like to believe I developed some of those characteristics of what are known to  'third culture kids', children raised in cultures, communities, nations different from their birth country.  I appreciate that I can enjoy a new community, looking at their belief sets, customs and cultures with a fresh viewpoint.  Obviously different, and sometimes even strange, yet for the most part there seems to be some thread of logic, tradition to the customs of their culture.   Sometimes though, there are customs or practices within a culture that are just unfathomable and seem to have very little in the way of logic to them, so that all one can conclude is that it is a custom of tradition held and handed down through the generations.  Who knows where it started or even why it started, nonetheless, it is a treasured tradition within the culture.

I find myself then the 'new kid' in this faith tradition.  And I have been communing with these people for what seems to me a short while, but long enough that some have formed thoughts or a sense of who I am or maybe better said who I am to them.  I think in the anxiety of being a new kid and trying to fit in while keeping my own identity, integrity and sense of ideology, I forget it is a two way street and as much as they are influencing me, I am influencing them.  So aside from the 'callings' that define what I will 'do' in this church, and my efforts and performing well in these callings, it surprises me when someone comments on how I may have had an influence on them.  So it was last Sunday when one of the sisters gave a talk that I thoroughly enjoyed exactly because it was somewhat unconventional.  I mentioned that to her after the service, and it surprised me when she said to me, thank you, and yes, I had Sister Ruger in mind this morning knowing I would be giving a talk at church.  Now honestly, I don't know if it was a compliment or otherwise, but I do know that it caused me to realize that this communion is not one way, lest it wouldn't be 'communion'.  Another sister in an earlier Sunday had referenced something to effect of gotta love that Sister Ruger in a way connoting I did bring something to the church community.

Given that I am taking this all so very seriously, with enormous amounts of research, reading, comparison, discussions and conversations with my husband and a few others, it is nice to come up for air from time to time and recognize that it really is about sharing with others in communion and community and while my mind may be seriously engaged, that is not the presentation that my personage makes in my 'new' community.  While I may see myself as the awkward new kid busily learning everything there is that I can learn, some others are seeing me in an affectionate light, as the new kid, yes, but not necessarily the awkward new kid.  It's a nice change of pace.

Landslide - Caving In

Internally my landscape is shifting and I can feel it.  Internally I can feel the strong walls of resistance I have built for myself starting to crumble.  Which means what, I'm not exactly sure, as I also recognize it wouldn't take much to patch them back up to once again stand strong against .... what  .....  influences I think I prefer not to be built into my internal castle.  Lying deeper though, protected, insulated is a waking part of my self yearning to fully embrace and take it into myself to own, to cherish, to love, to adore, to nurture, to care for, to share, to give.

Since I last wrote in my blog, I have had opportunity to substitute and fill in teaching for Primary Class for two Sundays.  We have had a weekend of family get together and sharing weekend to celebrate mine and my daughter's July birthdays.  Last Sunday was 3rd Sunday which is my time to teach the lesson in R.S. and the lesson was a challenge for me; families together for eternity.  Knowing I could not teach the 'ideal' of the lesson without also including the reality was the challenge for me in giving the lesson.  I think it went as well as could be expected in the framing of the lesson.  The women were responsive, engaged, and actually quite helpful in bringing their own material to the lesson.

My husband was called to be pianist for Primary where he has been substituting for past three weeks, which gives release to the woman who has fulfilled that responsibility for years and desirous of release so she could take in other elements of the Sunday services.  He is happy with this calling.  I am pleased for him, and also feel a bit abandoned as I am left to my own devices in Sunday School lessons and Relief Society lessons.  But it is my time of learning, assimilating, integrating, and he is content to learn anew as he sees it through my eyes.  I would hazard to guess he is doing his own internal integrating.

Yesterday I listened to another podcast at Mormon Matters, subject was on keeping the weirdness of Mormonism.  Somewhere in the middle of the podcast though, as the guest panelists were talking about what works for them, their love of certain doctrines, certain idiosyncrasies, even certain folk lore in what comes together to make up Mormonism, I found myself embracing instead of resisting what I was hearing.

This morning in our typical start the day morning routines, one of which is to start up the laptops and do a quick rundown check of email, I found myself chasing links to Mormon related blogs.  In a moment where I spoke aloud thoughts circulating in my mind normally not spoken aloud, I reflected to my husband that I wish I had been raised Mormon, and that I had been able to raise my family in the LDS church.  I'm not sure what his internal reaction to my thought was but his face registered surprise, maybe even approving surprise, didn't seem to be startled surprise.

I tried to explain to him that I was appreciating the protective and insulated environment created against distractions from the larger world scope.  I was particularly thinking of my years of dance training and the environment of focus created in the dance world.  I was thinking of family that could nurture each other and build each other up, appreciate each other for their talents and contributions.  I was thinking how I yearned when I began my family to have a better family environment than the one in which I was raised.  How I wanted for my children to have the nurture of a close family, none of the emotional onslaughts that wracked my formative years in a hellish dervish.  I was thinking that the map laid out by the LDS church, while too tightly woven in some areas, nonetheless provides an 'ideal' to aim for with demonstrable steps in how to at least aim for the ideal.  Obviously I don't agree with many of the steps or the ways suggested by this church, but I don't take exception to the effort at community, communality, and working towards achieving nurturing connection points.
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This morning in our few moments before he goes off to his workplace for the day, we share a few quiet moments in prayerful reflection.  It isn't always a reverential bowing of the heads in respectful worship kind of prayerfulness.  Sometimes it is a brief exchange of deeper thoughts reflected in a few sentences that each of us may take with us into our thoughts while attending to the tasks of the day. Today mention was made again of our appreciation of the Native American spirituality which does not seem to offer condemnation, more ways to be in loving community with each other.  Perhaps that is why it has appealed to me, the quiet, steady focus on being a 'people' together in community.  A tribe of belonging, a place of knowing to whom one belongs.
I think of Mormonism in that way, a people having formed a tribe held together by beliefs shared in commonality, not necessarily their genetic heritage as a people, but their desire towards a tribal community.

I'm idealizing, and I know it.  I'm remembering the insular environment of being raised in military setting.  I'm remembering the 'ideals' of that environment.  I'm feeling a deep sadness of a history for myself that was more strongly about cutting ties with heritage than reinforcing and growing that much needed tethering.  I wanted to give my children that very tethering.  To the degree that I was successful, I also know there were many areas I could well have been more successful, given them more.  I forgive myself in knowing I did the best I could do at every step of the way, even so, I ache in knowing I could have given them more.  I'm not sure that giving them the map of Mormonism/LDS would have been the answer, even so, it would have been a map with high goals to aim for, given them a bit of the insular against the oft times chaotic waves tossing us to and fro less the  benefit of a map by which to steer and guide our ship.

 Destiny being what destiny is, we are in the places we find ourselves given our life circumstances.  Someone once described how she saw me as a person punching at paper bags in my efforts to take on the world on the terms dealt to me.   I think I understand what she meant with the paper bags analogy.  So much time spent punching at paper bags, time that could have been put to better use in other endeavors.

No Mormonism is not the answer, it is not the sum all or be all and often falls short in helping people who have faced challenges based on their differing realities.  Even so, even with all the peculiarities in the history that makes up Mormonism, even with the out and out wrongness that sometimes permeates the messaging people receive, there is a thread of desire that runs through it all in wanting to be a safe, nurturing, loving community, a people caring for one another, a tribal people.  There is much in the map of Mormon life that is good, wholesome, decent, and while I don't believe that the Mormon way holds a monopoly on those kinds of values, I am coming to believe that it would be a great loss if the Mormon way were to be lost in the landslide that seems to be crushing us globally in these times.   I have a feeling of relief in sensing my internal shift as one of being willing to embrace and letting go of punching paper bags.

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.

Convert - a most annoying word to me and I'm not one am I ?

Among the LDS people there seems to be a need to differentiate between generational LDS and 'converts', meaning people who were not raised in the culture (or the covenant) but decided to join the culture via baptism covenant.  Okay, in the sense of converting to another religion or culture, I get the useage of the term convert in it's many definitions.  In my limited understanding of how that word is used in context of religious cultures, a person changes from one belief set to another or it could also mean when a person more closely aligns to a belief set similar to the one they already carry.  

I don't see myself as doing either in this case.  I see myself as bringing what I already own via my appreciation, experience, understanding and belief sets to this religion without any wish for my belief set to be 'converted' to align more in line with the LDS model.    In some ways, it feels more like a testing ground to see if the LDS model can be adaptive enough to permit me to keep my belief set and permit it to be deepened within the their structure, a structure which, btw,  I view as subtly changing, perhaps needfully so, and in a way as to be more inclusive, opening up what has been or seemed to me to be a closed cultural structuring.  


However, in the technical definitions applied to the word convert, perhaps I am more comfortable with this definition;   to exchange something of equal value.  


I don't see myself as 'converting' to the LDS world view, rather I see myself as trying to embrace yet another human made structure of the spiritual mysteries.  I see myself as bringing intact my already existing relationship with Jesus Christ, and not that I am without a relationship and in need of having a relationship.  


But, perhaps I personalize the words I hear a bit too much.  As Arthur has explained, it could well be that the people in their earnestness to embrace me as a newcomer, they are liberally (wink, wink) pouring out the spirit, their testimonies all over me in a show of loving embrace.   Okay, I'll work on reframing it in my mind to be more the latter than the former.  I've pretty much resolved that Jesus walks with me where ever I go, there is no threat to the belief set I have formed of my relationship to Jesus except that it continues to expand.  The difficulty is in attempting to verbalize the individual personalization of that relationship, it has lived comfortably in a place of no words for a very long time, and giving voice to something so personal does not come easily.  


I see in many religions there is a standard of normal to share ideas, thoughts, discussions and dialogues about what is the meaning of the spirituality connection to the Greater Source, and that gets defined in many unique and different ways.  For me, less comfortable with the religiosity of the word useage, it seems more comfortable to keep my personal relationship quietly, inwardly personal.  I'm not saying better, just more comfortable.  

Having grown up with parent in military, it became part of my heritage to look at different cultures, different approaches with interest and curiosity, borrowing what I valued, leaving behind what was less valued.  I'm not sure that has left me with what is called a cafeteria approach to my own personal spirituality, as in taking what I want and leaving the rest.  It feels more like I'm drawn to a precept not unlike Joseph Campbell's comparative religions (belief sets) archetypes of mythical figures as is better explained  in his book 'The Power of Myth'  and the 1988 PBS collaborative series with Bill Moyers of the same name.