Who am I: Why I Believe

Yes I know I've been terribly religious lately. Get over it or go else where. If you haven't noticed I tend to work on a theme until I chew my way through it and get bored. Then I move on. This is where we are right now.

I keep trying to figure out what angle to come at this topic by. I feel I need to go into it for reasons I don't know yet exactly but I feel strongly its what I need to write about, tho this post is liable to take a few drafts to get right. 

I believe in God because I know He is there. 

I know it as surely as I know the sun will rise in the east tomorrow and that my Momma loves me. And I know that no matter what happens I cannot deny my sure knowledge. I'd be lying if I did. 

You can say that I was socialized to some sort of group hysteria by my religious upbringing. Please go right ahead and feel what you want. The point of this post isn't to convince anybody or start an argument. I just feel the need to share what I know to be true. 

I was 14 and I was suicidal. I didn't want to die, but I couldn't live like that anymore. The pain, the despair, the total isolation. The body that seemed to have its own mind and I was locked in a cage in the back of my mind watching myself do things and screaming and beating against the bars and I couldn't get out and I couldn't stop and I couldn't be me. 

I had a plan. I was going to write a note and take a whole bottle of pills (probably Tylenol cuz Mom had those giant bottles of them from the discount store) and time it for just about an hour before dinner. So that hopefully I'd be passed out but they could find me before it was too late and .... somehow this would save me. 

They'd taken me to "therapy" with some nut job that saw me like a half dozen times but declared me "well" and that just made me even more hopeless because now therapy hadn't worked. So I had no idea what the solution was, but I couldn't live like this anymore. 

The two things keeping me from enacting the plan were as follows: I was scared to death I would actually die (what if they forgot to get me for dinner, that had never happened but it might!). And if I actually died that would cause 2 problems: 1. It would hurt my parents. I knew it would break their hearts and I couldn't bear that thought. 2. I believed that God would punish me if I took my own life and I couldn't quite justify being miserable for all eternity vs being miserable now. (My opinions on that subject have evolved some since then but that's neither here nor there and probably a really good thing I thought that way at the time...). 

And so there I was, in so much pain I couldn't see straight. I felt powerless and hopeless, and completely and totally alone. 

And I remember one night, one horribly bad night, I was alone in my room and this poster I had on my wall just captivated me. It was a picture of Christ and it was captioned "You are never alone. I will not leave you comfortless, I will come to you." 

And I sobbed and I stared at the picture when I could and I started praying. I explained to my Heavenly Father that I had never in my life felt more alone and I just couldn't do this anymore. I had to know if I was alone or not because if I was I couldn't do this anymore and this was going to have to be it. 

And it was then, in truly my darkest hour ever that I suddenly felt peace. I felt love. I felt like I was being wrapped up in a big warm hug and my tears changed from the wracked sobs of grief and pain to tears of joy and happiness. I could keep breathing. I could exist. It was all going to be okay because I was not alone and God loved me. 

It was probably the single most glorious experience of my entire life. 

I could not have felt His presence any more clearly than if a friend walked up and gave me a bear hug right now. From that day on I have never, ever had any doubt that there is a God. That He is a real, personal, living Father in Heaven, who knows, loves and cares about me. 

I was humbled to the core of my soul. Grateful and honored and shocked that somebody like me merited such love. He was REAL and He loved ME. And it was going to be okay. 

And it was... I think it was shortly after that that my gym teacher caught me smashing my head into a locker (if you hit your head hard enough you don't have to feel for a while, that and the other kids thought it was a great party trick) and for some strange reason she was concerned and sent me to the school counselor who listened for a bit and then called the district psychologist who listened for a few hours, who then called my Mom and explained very carefully that if she didn't get me help right now things were going to be bad. And she referred us to some amazing non-quack people - a psychiatrist who got the brain working right (so that THIS neuron fires into THAT receptor likes its supposed when I tell it to and only when I tell it to) and a psychologist who gave me the tools to heal once the brain could even work right. 

I think before that night I was mostly a social conversion. I'd been raised and taught these things by my parents. But since that night, my faith is mine. I believe because I know. 

There are times I wish I could touch a person and make them feel what I feel, because if I could share that feeling it would knock you flat on your butt and you too could know. But thats not how it works and I don't think it would be right even if I could do it.... with knowledge comes accountability.... 

I can list a few dozen other reasons "why I believe" but as I think on them I think what they really are is reasons why I'm grateful I believe. This is the real reason. Its been reinforced, powerfully, many times since that night. But this is the start, the flame that still burns. 

For the record I'm not sure I've shared this with more than one or two people my whole life until now. And yet I feel strongly that now is the right time to share it with the whole internet. This is a little piece of my heart. One of the core pieces that makes me who I am and altered the whole course of my existence. 

Please be kind. This is sacred to me. 

ps - who knew? This is the first draft....

Why I'm a Stay-At-Home Mom

Feminism in Mormon-land gets REALLY complicated really quickly. Its a fascinating and at times challenging balancing act. (Warning: I will get religious at times. Its my blog and I can if I wanna).

I know views of women inside the church by those outside the church can be... a smidgen on the negative side. I had the experience in college with one of my favorite psychology professors who I'd taken several classes from discovering after all that time that I was in fact a Mormon.

You should have seen her jaw hit the floor. She gawked at me like I was a side show freak and then sputtered a line I will never forget: "I never would have thought that you would be a member of so patriarchal an organization!!"

Then it was my turn for my jaw to hit the floor b/c coming from her "so patriarchal an organization" was dirty words. I then laughed and responded with something to the effect of "Clearly, we're not who you think we are." It turns out her source of what she thought we were about was a disgruntled former member.

I've had MANY people throughout my life be surprised that I was Mormon, although they're not usually so  specific about the cause of their surprise. I usually just get "You're not like the other Mormons I know." And I never know exactly how to take that. I hope its a good thing. That I'm doing something right. On the other hand if its a good thing that leaves me with the fear that perhaps my fellow members are doing something wrong. But the alternative is that I'm the one who is way off and needless to say that thought is... uncomfortable.

But I digress. Basically a lot of people group Mormon women in the "must be barefoot, pregnant, in the kitchen popping out whole herds of crotch parasites while singing jaunty tunes, making bread from scratch and carving ice sculptures for relief society" or something to that effect. I should probably top that off with "is a good 'yes wife' who does as she's told and knows how to grovel properly and bow and curtsey before the men folk".

..... Yeahhhhhh. Needless to say that is NOT ME. In fact, it is so far from NOT ME that I will get a little bit, um, violent, in my expression should anybody try to tell me that I should be like that.

Now the flip side of this is where it gets a bit complicated: If you WANT TO stay at home, and reign over your crotch parasite herd while singing tunes and kneading bread I say "More power to ya". If you want to go out and have the high power career "More power to ya".

My clearest thought is this: If it makes you happy, and you pray about it and that is the path that your Heavenly Father has for you and you wanna do it: then GO FOR IT.

Not all of us or supposed to be Susy Homemaker and not all of us are Patty Highpower. Some of us don't fit remotely neatly into either of those molds and some of us will fit neatly in to both of those molds at different times in our lives.


That said, the person who tries to shove me into any mold is liable to get a knee to the groin. And I think that my INTENSE reaction to that has more to do with my firm belief in the sanctity and divine right of agency. It is given to us to chose. No one has the right to take that from us. Not even God. And He doesn't and He never will.

So call it feminism if you will but either way I think that women, AND men, have the right to chose.

That said, I am a stay at home mom because I chose to be. Because in my little heart of hearts, I've prayed about it real hard and the place I am supposed to be right now, for better or worse, is at home with this baby.

Now there are other women whose lives, personal situations, etc are different and can manage better than I can the balance of career AND family, but I don't think I am that person. The message that I feel strongly about right now is that nobody can love and teach my child the way that I can love and teach him. That right now, with this kid, it needs to be me.

And I feel that this is the time and the season for me to have my children. To get my "child bearing years" done and over with. Do I still want to go to graduate school? Oh my gosh yes. Is now the time? I've prayed about it and its a resounding "no". I figure that 30 is creeping up on me by the day, and yes LOTS of women have children at MUCH older ages than 30, but it ain't gonna get any easier the older I am. In fact its pretty much all gets harder and higher risk and with my luck I probably shouldn't push it.

But more than anything, to me, this path is what feels right.

Are there lots of amazing careers I could be having? Sure. Could I positively impact the world, and make my mark on history? Sure. But I can only say this: In this time and this place, in doing what I'm doing with my one little child, I am doing the greatest good I can possibly do in all the world. And I know that to the core of my soul.

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One final thought on Feminism Meets Mormon-land (don't worry I'm sure I'll revisit this topic in depth) - Mostly in regards to the secondary claim that we're supposed to be good subservient yes-wives.... Oh HECK no.

And here it does get complicated b/c the person I will submit my will to is my Heavenly Father. I chose to do this because every time I have I have found greater joy in His path for my life that I could ever have planned for myself.

Extend that thought to - I believe that God leads and guides a church. He has a Prophet and 12 apostles just as He has done all through out history. I believe that God leads these men and guides and directs them. As long as they are following direction from Heavenly Father what possible arguement could I have to submitting my life to the guidance and direction they receive from God? So one could argue that I am "submissive to men".

However, I will state this: my obedience is not blind. I have the right to pray to God myself and ask for confirmation that the things I am being taught and asked to do are right and good and true. And you better believe He and I have LONG chats about things and I don't generally do anything unless I believe it to be right. Sure once in a while, I'll go on faith and just do it, but I always get my confirmation that its right.

You could argue I've simply been brainwashed and conditioned and all of that. Go ahead. But this is my life, and I believe.

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One final thought to my final thought: regardless of gender I don't think anybody has the right to make some one else feel degraded and inferior, especially not with in the bonds of marriage. I believe that is NOT what God intends for His children. I think it should be a partnership. Sometimes he leads, sometimes I lead, mostly we discuss things a lot and pray about it and try to follow God's lead.

If that's feminism then I think God is a feminist.