The Day I Waited For

As an Unconventional Mo (see a couple blogs back) I did many things my own way, rather than the way that was always expected, or the way "everyone else was doing it." The biggest choice that affected my path and my life was in marrying a non-member. Though my husband was baptized right after our marriage, it still meant I ended up making unforeseen sacrifices in my own spiritual growth. For instance, I didn't get to go to the temple right away for my own endowment. Through the years I took the temple prep classes 6 times, always expecting to go to the temple, but every bishop wanted me to wait and to go with my husband when he was ready. Many years later, I grew impatient with the waiting, and feeling like I was being held up in my spiritual growth and blessings. I finally had a bishop ready to move me forward....and then he was released as bishop. And the new bishop became a real challenge for me in so many ways. Move forward 6 years, and we got another new bishop, and I went to him with my same earnest plea. The night he gave me the go ahead to take the temple prep class again and plan to attend the temple, I broke down crying. The overwhelming feelings of finally being able to take that step were powerful. Bishop Pressler and my husband just stood and watched my speechless weeping for several minutes, and then both hugged me in turn.

Once I received my recommend, what followed was a number of events that seemed especially designed to test my character, and to test my reliance on the Spirit. The biggest obstacle was a particular, tenacious human thorn in my side surfaced yet again, expressing hatred and ignorance and, frankly, acting as if he knows better than my own bishop and stake president regarding my testimony or my worthiness to hold a recommend and enter the temple. In the form of a very longwinded, preposterous letter, this person was a tool in Satan's hand. It could have made me feel anger, outrage, sadness, disharmony....it could have kept me from feeling the Spirit. But all I could do was laugh. I didn't even finish reading the letter because it was just too foolish. There was just one paragraph that struck me a bit, and I addressed that with a prayer and a call to my step-sister, Leigha, for clarification. In the course of that call, my one fear was laid to rest, and I began to joyfully plan for my visit to the house of the Lord.

Some days, the wait was hard, but there is more preparation that must occur once the recommend is in hand, and it felt just a bit like preparing for a wedding day. There were certain special guests and escorts to invite, clothing to choose, etc. and so I looked at that time as a gift to prepare for a day I would not forget, and in which I did not have to look back on wishing I'd done something differently. Leigha came down for a couple days with 3 out of 4 nephews and nieces, and she was my chosen escort on temple day. Other special guests included Cathy Snow, Whitney Moody, and her husband, Jack. Whitney and Jack had just recently been sealed together with their children in the temple.

The feelings of that day were very special, and I promised myself I would return frequently to learn all I can and to keep those feelings with me as much as possible. At the end, Cathy Snow came and squeezed me and said some kind words which triggered a flood of emotion and tears. Leigha sat quietly next to me, holding my hand until I was composed enough to talk, and then we talked about what brought that on...how Cathy had been there in the role of a mother, and how much it hurts that my own mother can't seem to be there for me in that way, in the way that I need her to be there for me as a grown woman with a family of my own. It was a good moment for Leigha and I, and it sparked conversations that helped each of us understand one another a little better and grow closer.

I have returned to the temple several times since February, and since it was announced that the Memphis Temple will be closing for up to 2 years for major renovations, I have committed myself to weekly visits until October. After that, the nearest temples are Birmingham, Nashville, and St. Louis and planning a trip will be much more challenging, given the distance and the nature of working on-call. My husband has done all he can to make sure my weekly visits are possible, and I'm sure he doesn't know how much that means to me, but I know he feels the difference in our home when I return. I know he takes me seriously when I ask him to remember I'll be returning from the temple, and that transitioning back into worldly chaos and disorder is jarring, and to please minimize contention, etc. at home while I am away, so that I can bring home the good feelings of the temple for everyone to share.

Purity, Chastity, Virtue - Sex By Any Other Name...

The name "Elizabeth Smart" is being seen in the news a lot again lately. Her story weighs on my heart and her courage and openness inspire me to do more for my own daughters and other women. You can read the latest from Elizabeth here. It is an encouraging read.

Like Elizabeth, I grew up in the Mormon faith. I still practice that faith, though I freely admit to anyone that I am an "unconventional Mo." We can talk more about what that means another time. Also, like Elizabeth, I experienced repeated sexual abuse. I was not kidnapped, and most of the abuse I experienced was not at the hands of a stranger. Most times, my own parents put me in the hands of my abuser/s, and to this day I have no idea if they have let that sink in. I don't know if they are still claiming ignorance. It's only been in the last 5 years that I've been able to talk to ANYONE about it EVER. And tonight was the first time I ever shared this with my daughters, sparing them all details, of course. My experience lasted from sometime after I was born (my first memory is around age 3) until I was about 10 and acted up enough that I was able to avoid the abuser/s altogether, or he was finally afraid of me.

As a Young Woman, ages 12-18, we often had confusing, embarrassing (I was embarrassed for my leaders, mind, more than I was for myself, or about sex) discussions with strange and disturbing object lessons/analogies about our purity. The big, overused story of my generation was ABC Gum. ABC Gum, if you don't know, is Already Been Chewed. Our virginity was compared to a pristine, non macerated piece of chewing gum (probably the really white kind, like a Chiclet, or maybe the stick kind with pretty sparkles of chemical trickery). As non macerated white sparkly gum virgins, we were desirable and whole and pure and chaste and virtuous. But, if we shoved our non macerated white sparkly gum virginity/purity into the dirty hands of boys (or girls) and they chewed us up touched us inappropriately or penetrated us in any way, then we would be discarded unceremoniously and every other human on the planet (but especially boys) would find us revolting. Yeah. About that.

The newer generation of Young Women are fence posts. You can drive nails in them, and the nails can be yanked free, but the holes are there forever. (Never mind how one might find it difficult to reconcile the Atonement after such a story, but I digress.)

Annual panel discussions with our Bishopric and youth leaders were no more helpful. In fact, I feel they were worse and even more harmful. They were certainly confusing. Most of the time, the 3 men (Bishopric), and our male and female youth leaders, sitting before us and answering our anonymous questions about dating and sex couldn't even agree amongst themselves about what was appropriate or not. One thought no kisses anywhere prior to marriage. One thought a kiss on the hand or cheek. Another thought a light kiss on the lips (closed mouth) would be fine. WHAT?! Get it together, guys! This is GUM we're talking about!!!!!!!!

But seriously....you know what I want my children (not just my daughters) to know about sex? First, I want them to know the correct terminology for their sex organs and sex acts. Seriously. That's basic.  Additionally, I want them to know all the good and wonderful things about sex. Sex should be fun, sex should feel great, sex can be full of laughter and passion and love. Sex can make babies. Sex can be awkward and fumbly. Sex should absolutely be part of a mutually committed, safe relationship. You should not be ashamed or afraid to discuss sex with your partner (or your parents when you have questions). I want them to come talk to me when they hear well-meaning but ludicrous and potentially harmful analogies from teachers they look up to.

I want them to understand consent.  I want them to value other human beings, and themselves as human beings. Even as human beings who might make regrettable choices. I want them to understand that the only person who gets to regret his/her choices is the person who made those choices. I want them to know that I love them unconditionally, that Heavenly Father loves them unconditionally, and that mistakes don't define us but can help shape us. I want them to understand and exercise personal accountability...and forgiveness if needed. I want them, most of all, to understand that their entire worth is not wrapped up in their sexuality!

My Daughter's A Teen - The Emotional Challenge of Parenting

Loving mothers love their children. I don't want to devalue another mother's love and devotion to her children by assuming that I appreciate my motherhood more because it didn't come easily. It took several years for me to have my first baby, and I experienced several difficult miscarriages throughout my childbearing years. That colors my every experience as a mother, and I mindfully cherish my role because I understand what it means.

My daughter turned 14 this month, and she has truly been off in the world (though not too far) with a great deal of fledgling independence this summer. This was her 3rd year at Young Women's Camp. 5 days there. She was able to attend Youth Conference because the cut-off date was her actual birthday. 3 days there. She is currently at EFY for 5 days, and this is the furthest she's ever been from me without at least her dad. None of our familiar local ward members are there supervising. It was a big step, and I encouraged her in taking it. Not without some heart flutters, mind you, but with excitement for her as she grows and finds her way. She has been so eager to go, and she saved part of the registration cost herself.

Isabel and 2 other girls from our ward set off on the 4-hour drive with the other girls' dad Monday morning. By 4:00 I was hearing from Isabel and she was crying and having a tone that was so far from her bright, adventurous spirit that I was ready to jump in the car and go get her. Nick and I prayed for and with her, and I was restless all night hoping she'd feel better after a good night's rest. She wasn't home even 48 hours between Youth Conference and EFY, so I thought it was possible she was just exhausted. By this morning, she sounded slightly more hopeful, but I still felt something was off. She called again when it was time to settle into their rooms tonight and there was a clear shift for the better in her mood. I felt so much relief. I knew I couldn't leave her there through the week if she didn't come around, but I wanted to give her the chance to rally. She shared about her day and some of the fun they had, and I mentally put my keys away for the night.

Isabel has always been a steady thing. Happy, content, easy-going. "Seeing" her out of sorts really turned my world on its ear. I find myself wondering if I struck the right balance of protectiveness and faith in her that she would find her way. I am not a helicopter parent, so I'd hate to startle her by suddenly squashing an opportunity for her to learn and grow free from my intervention. But what if I fail her by not coming to the rescue when she really needed it? I think I succeeded, but I won't be surprised if this comes out in therapy someday. There has to be some therapy fodder in here somewhere.

I've spent the last 14 years mindfully parenting in precisely the opposite manner to which I myself was parented. I'm hoping to minimize the damage to my own children, but I feel almost as if it is impossible that they won't be angry at me for something someday. How can someone with so much baggage not shove some of it off on their own kids, right?