This season, almost my entire family was able to come together for Christmas. My oldest brother and his wife and son weren't there, but everyone else was and it was the most people we've had together in about five years, so it was a rare treat. There were big kids, little kids, and fun older siblings to make Christmas much more exciting and lively than it would be if it were just me and the 'rents, awesome as they are.
Anyway, all of my siblings are married and have been for a few years. Now, even if I weren't the GMP, I'm still not old enough to be married, in my opinion, so I've never had a problem with being single. I enjoy the freedom and ability to do whatever, whenever. I like not having to ask permission (even though I think most of my brothers and sisters only ask permission out of politeness, not necessity), not having to go to bed when someone else gets tired, etc. Occasional loneliness aside, it's a decent life.
In any case, this family gathering was the first one where I felt the difference between me and them. My mom always gives the married kids a book on a gospel topic so that they can build their libraries, and while I know she never means to leave me out, I kind of feel a little jealous when everyone else gets a book my mom enjoyed and found value in. I know the justification is that I can just as easily read my mom's copy as anything else, but it still makes me feel ever-so-slightly like an outcast.
It happened again when we all went skiing. My brother and his wife were curled up in the lodge sipping chocolate, my sister and her husband were shredding down the slopes, and my other brother and his wife were enjoying some cross-country skiing, leaving me the choice to either do my own thing or third-wheel it with someone else. And it happened again whilst playing Just Dance, when each of the couples did a dance together, again leaving me high and dry.
No one ever left me out or excluded me and we did plenty of things as a family throughout the week, including everyone in our adventures. It was a great week. But there were moments of loneliness and pining for a different life situation, one in which it'd be easier to find the perfect mate to add to our already-exciting family group.
That feeling has been coming on more and more recently. The other noteworthy example was attending my friend's wedding, the same friend who I feel could have been the pretty girl to break this beast's spell. All week leading up to the wedding, I hoped she'd "come to her senses" and jilt him, giving me a second chance at a normal life. And then I saw them at their wedding reception. They danced, they kissed, they smiled that smile that says that they each had just made the best decision of their life. I knew I wasn't the one for her, he was. It was (and is) a hard truth to try and live with, that those rare enchanting girls were never meant to be mine. And so it is I wake up alone each day, listening to schmaltzy love songs that have me wishing I could "feel your heartbeat through my shirt," and "taste your lips and feel your skin."
Life is great. I love (almost) every minute of it. Things are getting progressively easier and all is well. But as much as I love falling in love with myself, I certainly wouldn't say no if the right person came into my life.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Sunday, December 25, 2011
My Favorite Christmas Story
Merry Christmas to the blogosphere!
Last week, a girl I home teach and I sat down, shot the breeze for a little while, shared our holiday plans and current activities, and made our way to the lesson. It was my turn to teach, so I decided to share a Christmas story. I'll share it here as well.
Last week, a girl I home teach and I sat down, shot the breeze for a little while, shared our holiday plans and current activities, and made our way to the lesson. It was my turn to teach, so I decided to share a Christmas story. I'll share it here as well.
Wallace Purling was in the second grade, but he should have been in the fourth. He was big and clumsy, but was liked by all of the children in his class, who were much smaller than he was. He had a kind heart, quick to come to the defense of anyone who he felt was being mistreated, and so gained the respect of everyone who knew him, even the boys who'd try their best to hide their frustration whenever slow, dim-witted Wally tried to play ball with them.
Christmas was getting close. The teacher had been preparing the class for the Christmas pageant since all the way back in October. Wally wanted to be a shepherd so he could hear the angels bring their glad tidings and invite him to visit and bear testimony of the baby Jesus, but the teacher thought that having that many directions on stage would be difficult for Wally. She reasoned that being the innkeeper would be a much better job for him. After all, the innkeeper only had two lines to learn, and Wally's size would make him much more intimidating and convincing as a callous innkeeper than a meek shepherd. Wally was disappointed, but took his part with a willing heart and set about learning his lines immediately.
Well, the night of the pageant came. The whole town showed up to see the children portray the night of our Savior's birth. Little Joseph and Mary wandered about, searching for a place to rest for the night. Tender Joseph walked up to the inn's door. Wally flung open the door with a brusque gesture. "What do you want?" he demanded.
"Please, sir," the little boy pleaded, "my wife Mary is with child and needs a place to sleep tonight."
Wally stood in the door, silent. The audience began to feel awkward as they watched him, thinking he'd forgotten his lines. Tears filled his eyes. Somewhere offstage, the teacher whispered, "No, be gone. There is no room for you here," hoping to prompt Wally on.
With a choking voice, Wally repeated the line. Joseph hung his head and turned to walk back to Mary. Wally should have walked back into the inn and closed the door, but stood and watched the forlorn mother and her husband with concern, great big tears rolling down his cheeks and a horribly depressed look on his face. And then this pageant became different from every other.
With tears still filling his eyes he called, "Joseph, wait! Come back! Bring Mary!" And then, with a bright smile he said, "You can have my room."
Some in the town thought that Wally had managed to ruin the show, but most think that it was the most Christmas of any pageant ever.
As I told this story, my eyes too filled with tears and my voice broke. I realized how important and amazing all of my Christmas chores were. In the challenge of finding the perfect gifts for my family, making time for those in my life whom I love, and completing those necessary tasks I had, I'd lost the spirit that Wally showed. I had no room in my heart for loving those I was serving, and so had no room for the Savior. I came away with a new hope for my Christmas. I wanted to give and get good gifts and I wanted to find the perfect tree for my family and I wanted to party with my friends, but the motivation was much more people-based. My friends and family were no longer items on my checklist, but people I genuinely loved and wanted to see happy. And, as awesome as the first half of December was, the second half has been much, much better for it.
Merry Christmas. I love those of you I know and I want to know those of you I don't know, so I can start loving you too. Because God loves you. Jesus Christ loves you. Our Savior lives. He was born to show us the way back to our Heavenly Father and through the grace of His Atonement, we are saved.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
The Coat: A Story of Charity
Yep. It's definitely that time of year, when every Christmas story makes me tear up a little bit. Hope the message shows through the cute animation.
A Balance Between Responsible and Fun
Pardon the deviation, but I had kind of a micro-epiphany last night during my prayers.
Lately, I've been looking for a winter project. A few years ago I drove a 1952 Ford Customline sedan and really enjoyed it, but as is my habit with such things, I dug in my heels, hemmed and hawed, and by the time I decided I'd buy it, it was gone.
I've discovered my fatal flaw in that plan (and many of the others I've hatched to buy cars). I am, at my core, a responsible guy. The Ford was a discretionary expenditure, a fun purchase with no practical reason to recommend it.
My current interest is in a contemporary of that old Ford. 1949-1952 Dodges and Plymouths are at their bottom dollar right now, the nexus of their depreciation. They were functional cars of their time, but none too attractive or elegantly designed, unlike the Fords, Chevrolets, and Studebakers of the day. Because they're not terribly desirable, those old Dodges and Plymouths are an affordable, easy way to get into vintage motoring. Parts are plentiful, there are a total of, like, three moving pieces in the whole car so repairs are simple and cheap, and even though they aren't as pretty as some of their competitors, they still have loads of that vintage charm.
I found the one. It's in good shape, a full-time Arizona car so it's very rust-free, and it runs well. It has the bigger six-cylinder motor and a manual transmission, and all ancillaries work as they should. The price is at the low end of the scale for its condition and the seller is motivated. By all accounts, it's the perfect winter project, a cheap initial investment in an easy job requiring a little paint and some body work, but with a huge payoff in the end.
I was praying last night and I asked the Lord to help me with my decision. I said that I wanted a cool old car and that I needed to know if it was a good choice to sink that kind of money into something like that. I reminded myself that men are that they might have joy, and while a car won't bring lasting, real joy, it still makes life a little more fun. And I told the Lord that cars are a hobby I really enjoy. I justified the potential spending, saying that I'm young and making irrational purchases like this will be much harder if a family ever enters the picture, and so I should get one now while I can, and maybe sell it if I need the cash later.
Then, I made something of a discovery. I quickly changed my prayer to something that went like, "Help me buy a car if it's right, and if it's wrong, help me not want to buy a car." I realized that, while I do love my vintage classics, perhaps my flaw isn't in hesitating to buy one, it's in wrapping myself up in wanting one in the first place.
Really, that's the core of almost every problem, isn't it?
Lately, I've been looking for a winter project. A few years ago I drove a 1952 Ford Customline sedan and really enjoyed it, but as is my habit with such things, I dug in my heels, hemmed and hawed, and by the time I decided I'd buy it, it was gone.
I've discovered my fatal flaw in that plan (and many of the others I've hatched to buy cars). I am, at my core, a responsible guy. The Ford was a discretionary expenditure, a fun purchase with no practical reason to recommend it.
My current interest is in a contemporary of that old Ford. 1949-1952 Dodges and Plymouths are at their bottom dollar right now, the nexus of their depreciation. They were functional cars of their time, but none too attractive or elegantly designed, unlike the Fords, Chevrolets, and Studebakers of the day. Because they're not terribly desirable, those old Dodges and Plymouths are an affordable, easy way to get into vintage motoring. Parts are plentiful, there are a total of, like, three moving pieces in the whole car so repairs are simple and cheap, and even though they aren't as pretty as some of their competitors, they still have loads of that vintage charm.
I found the one. It's in good shape, a full-time Arizona car so it's very rust-free, and it runs well. It has the bigger six-cylinder motor and a manual transmission, and all ancillaries work as they should. The price is at the low end of the scale for its condition and the seller is motivated. By all accounts, it's the perfect winter project, a cheap initial investment in an easy job requiring a little paint and some body work, but with a huge payoff in the end.
I was praying last night and I asked the Lord to help me with my decision. I said that I wanted a cool old car and that I needed to know if it was a good choice to sink that kind of money into something like that. I reminded myself that men are that they might have joy, and while a car won't bring lasting, real joy, it still makes life a little more fun. And I told the Lord that cars are a hobby I really enjoy. I justified the potential spending, saying that I'm young and making irrational purchases like this will be much harder if a family ever enters the picture, and so I should get one now while I can, and maybe sell it if I need the cash later.
Then, I made something of a discovery. I quickly changed my prayer to something that went like, "Help me buy a car if it's right, and if it's wrong, help me not want to buy a car." I realized that, while I do love my vintage classics, perhaps my flaw isn't in hesitating to buy one, it's in wrapping myself up in wanting one in the first place.
Really, that's the core of almost every problem, isn't it?
Monday, November 28, 2011
The Parable of the Spoons
One night, a man had a dream. He found himself in a room, completely sealed off from the outside world. There were no doors or windows and no way to escape. After several hours of walking around the room, a door appeared that he hadn't noticed before; on it was an inscription that read, "For the Damned." The man hesitated, but seeing no other escape, he walked through the door.
On the other side of the door was a bright, well-lit and ornately decorated room, centered around a long, lavishly appointed banquet table. On the table were hearty meats, savory vegetables, exquisite delicacies, and mouthwatering desserts, elaborately prepared and presented for the table guests. Several people were seated around the table, but none were eating. As the man looked closer, he saw that each of the people were tied to their chairs, with one hand tied behind the seat back. The other hand was free, but it held a spoon too long to be of any use to its owner. The man saw the people load their spoons and turn them back towards themselves, but there was no way for them to hold the spoon in such a way as to feed themselves. He watched in horror as the people, pale and emaciated, starved to death in agony.
He ran from the banquet hall back into the room in which he originally found himself. On the other side of the room, he noticed another door, upon which he read, "For the Saved." He walked through the door and thought for a moment he'd walked through the first door again. The room looked identical, with the same embellishments, decorations, and elaborately spread banquet table. The guests at the table were again tied to their chairs, with one free hand holding a spoon that was far too long for them to eat from. However, the guests were happy and well-fed, each one laughing and talking jocularly with the others. As the man looked closer he noticed a critical difference between the rooms: while the inhabitants of the first had been unable to feed themselves with their spoons, the guests of the second realized that they instead could feed their neighbors with their spoons and be fed in kind. In serving each other, the saved found life and happiness.
The man realized that Heaven and Hell offered the same circumstances; the difference laid in the way that people treated each other.
Taken from Hindu and Judaic allegories
On the other side of the door was a bright, well-lit and ornately decorated room, centered around a long, lavishly appointed banquet table. On the table were hearty meats, savory vegetables, exquisite delicacies, and mouthwatering desserts, elaborately prepared and presented for the table guests. Several people were seated around the table, but none were eating. As the man looked closer, he saw that each of the people were tied to their chairs, with one hand tied behind the seat back. The other hand was free, but it held a spoon too long to be of any use to its owner. The man saw the people load their spoons and turn them back towards themselves, but there was no way for them to hold the spoon in such a way as to feed themselves. He watched in horror as the people, pale and emaciated, starved to death in agony.
He ran from the banquet hall back into the room in which he originally found himself. On the other side of the room, he noticed another door, upon which he read, "For the Saved." He walked through the door and thought for a moment he'd walked through the first door again. The room looked identical, with the same embellishments, decorations, and elaborately spread banquet table. The guests at the table were again tied to their chairs, with one free hand holding a spoon that was far too long for them to eat from. However, the guests were happy and well-fed, each one laughing and talking jocularly with the others. As the man looked closer he noticed a critical difference between the rooms: while the inhabitants of the first had been unable to feed themselves with their spoons, the guests of the second realized that they instead could feed their neighbors with their spoons and be fed in kind. In serving each other, the saved found life and happiness.
The man realized that Heaven and Hell offered the same circumstances; the difference laid in the way that people treated each other.
Taken from Hindu and Judaic allegories
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Thanksgiving!
I love all holidays. I like wearing green in March, I enjoy eating May Day cookies, the Provo 4th of July parade is the best, I love the Easter hymns and Christmas carols, I even like learning about Abraham Lincoln and George Washington on President's Day. I am a holiday kind of guy.
And so it is with joy, anticipation, and gratitude that I welcome and commemorate Thanksgiving 2011 with a blog post.
Contrary to how I make it sound, I live an amazing life. It has its ups and downs, but through it all, I have been blessed. Every tear shed was counted by a loving Heavenly Father who has sent His angels to be with me, both when I asked for them and when I've turned away. I have so much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.
I am so grateful for a family who loves, supports, identifies with, and prays for me. I have two amazing brothers that never let me forget to have fun and eat dessert first, and yet show incredible maturity and compassion when the situation calls for it. I have a fun and loving older sister who is willing to listen to me vent, but also excitedly calls me whenever one of my adorable nieces or nephews does something cute. I have three siblings-in-law who each have added a unique and invariably positive dynamic to the clan. I have a father who has taught me frugality, service to others, and how to camp, throw a baseball, and replace a car's brakes. And I have a mother who wakes up before me every morning to make sure I leave the house with a full lunchbox and a hot breakfast. I have grandparents who have filled my life with treasured memories and who have encoded my gene pool with any number of characteristics that are mine if I choose to live up to them. I have aunts, uncles, and cousins who show me by example how a person can succeed in spite of just about any circumstance, and be happier for it.
I have similarly been blessed with friends who lighten my load, whether it be by sharing a joke, playing music with me, offering a listening ear, or inviting me to the night's adventures. There are also countless spiritual leaders and teachers who have offered a wealth of advice, insight, and empathy, no matter where I stand spiritually. And I'm blessed with professors, bosses, and study partners who provide training and education for a bright future.
I have a great car, a decent snowboard, and all the toys a guy could ever want. I live in the electronic age, when uplifting messages, practical information, and social interaction are just a mouseclick away. I have a job, more money than I need, and a good start to an education. I have talents and skills that have aided me and provided me with praise and a good self-image, while still encouraging me to constantly improve and refine them. I am incredibly blessed.
And yet, even if I had none of those things, I suspect it wouldn't matter much, because I have been given something that has been given to everyone, regardless of their other blessings. The Lord and Savior Jesus Christ suffered in the Garden and died on the Cross, and then rose again from the Tomb, for me. He intimately knows me and is with me every step of the way. He stretches out His scarred hand when I fail and begs me to return when I turn away. He takes me under His shoulder when I am weak. And he rejoices and celebrates in my happiness.
He offers you and me His grace every day, grace that we can use to pick ourselves up when we fail, comfort our souls when we despair, and continually move forward in a path that will bring us the utmost happiness and joy. He has offered us all He has and if we truly show gratitude for this gift, He will not let us down.
I bear unequivocal testimony, with every ounce of strength I have, that Jesus is our Lord and Savior. I will go to my grave telling of His love. No matter what happens, no matter what changes, Jesus Christ suffered, died, and rose again for all of His brothers and sisters. He loves us and will always be there, stretching out a scarred hand towards us. He will never fail us.
Happy Thanksgiving! Here's to your health, happiness, and bounty for one more year!
And so it is with joy, anticipation, and gratitude that I welcome and commemorate Thanksgiving 2011 with a blog post.
Contrary to how I make it sound, I live an amazing life. It has its ups and downs, but through it all, I have been blessed. Every tear shed was counted by a loving Heavenly Father who has sent His angels to be with me, both when I asked for them and when I've turned away. I have so much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.
I am so grateful for a family who loves, supports, identifies with, and prays for me. I have two amazing brothers that never let me forget to have fun and eat dessert first, and yet show incredible maturity and compassion when the situation calls for it. I have a fun and loving older sister who is willing to listen to me vent, but also excitedly calls me whenever one of my adorable nieces or nephews does something cute. I have three siblings-in-law who each have added a unique and invariably positive dynamic to the clan. I have a father who has taught me frugality, service to others, and how to camp, throw a baseball, and replace a car's brakes. And I have a mother who wakes up before me every morning to make sure I leave the house with a full lunchbox and a hot breakfast. I have grandparents who have filled my life with treasured memories and who have encoded my gene pool with any number of characteristics that are mine if I choose to live up to them. I have aunts, uncles, and cousins who show me by example how a person can succeed in spite of just about any circumstance, and be happier for it.
I have similarly been blessed with friends who lighten my load, whether it be by sharing a joke, playing music with me, offering a listening ear, or inviting me to the night's adventures. There are also countless spiritual leaders and teachers who have offered a wealth of advice, insight, and empathy, no matter where I stand spiritually. And I'm blessed with professors, bosses, and study partners who provide training and education for a bright future.
I have a great car, a decent snowboard, and all the toys a guy could ever want. I live in the electronic age, when uplifting messages, practical information, and social interaction are just a mouseclick away. I have a job, more money than I need, and a good start to an education. I have talents and skills that have aided me and provided me with praise and a good self-image, while still encouraging me to constantly improve and refine them. I am incredibly blessed.
And yet, even if I had none of those things, I suspect it wouldn't matter much, because I have been given something that has been given to everyone, regardless of their other blessings. The Lord and Savior Jesus Christ suffered in the Garden and died on the Cross, and then rose again from the Tomb, for me. He intimately knows me and is with me every step of the way. He stretches out His scarred hand when I fail and begs me to return when I turn away. He takes me under His shoulder when I am weak. And he rejoices and celebrates in my happiness.
He offers you and me His grace every day, grace that we can use to pick ourselves up when we fail, comfort our souls when we despair, and continually move forward in a path that will bring us the utmost happiness and joy. He has offered us all He has and if we truly show gratitude for this gift, He will not let us down.
I bear unequivocal testimony, with every ounce of strength I have, that Jesus is our Lord and Savior. I will go to my grave telling of His love. No matter what happens, no matter what changes, Jesus Christ suffered, died, and rose again for all of His brothers and sisters. He loves us and will always be there, stretching out a scarred hand towards us. He will never fail us.
Happy Thanksgiving! Here's to your health, happiness, and bounty for one more year!
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Goals, and Seeking a Little Advice
I spent a long time Monday night writing a depressing post. The words kept sounding trivial and flighty, in spite of how seismic and strange the emotions motivating them were. I tried for about an hour, never getting past two poorly written paragraphs, before I abandoned the pursuit in favor of some milk and cookies and an hour of car racing on XBOX. It was a temporary solution to a problem that felt too real to handle with a blog post.
I went to bed early that night. I was tired of dealing with the day and spent the last part of it counting down the minutes till I could go to bed late enough to avoid feeling like an old man. Before I laid down in bed, a said a quick, but earnest prayer. I told Heavenly Father how I felt. I told him how worried I was that I was always attracted to my friends. I asked for some kind of solution, so that someday I could have a good, fulfilling "best-friendship" with someone I appreciated and who appreciated me, without me adding a hopefully-invisible element of being a attracted to him.
Evergreen International says that male homosexuality isn't driven by poor relationships with women; instead it's poor relationships with men that cause our alternate attractions. Sometime, probably sometime early, we had some kind of experience that left us wanting for genuine and appropriate male bonding, and that desire became toxic as it grew.
Anyway, the next morning, I began thinking of why I felt like I did. I was happy in that I had been making good choices and had lots of blessings, but I was forced to confront the reality (again) that faithful obedience doesn't mean that I won't still be attracted to men. I'd made those bargains before, that I'd stop looking at pornography, that I'd serve a mission, that I'd go to BYU, that I'd accept any calling He had in store, if He'd just make this attraction go away. But that's just not how it works.
At work, in my hours of alone time, I mused about what to do with the friendship in question. I knew the standard answers, like losing myself in service, magnifying a calling, and improving myself, but those solutions, while worthwhile uses of my time, seemed like they beat around the bush. What I really needed was a way to feel like I could have a healthy relationship with someone.
I decided to make a list of things that make me happy, either superficially or really deeply, and decided that I'd make goals to correspond with each of those happy-makers. For example, I'm putting money into a savings account that's dedicated to repairing and customizing my car. I've also gone through my bookshelf and made a pile of books I'll be reading over the next few months. I found some old piano music that I like, so I'm going to start playing again. If this all sounds familiar, it's probably because I've said it before. These are the things that make me happy and I want to give them more prevalence in my life.
The only goal I'm really struggling with is trying to find fulfilling relationships. I'm not really capable of them, at least with other guys, as it turns out. I've outlined my shortcomings, but just have no idea how to approach them. As I was muddling through my list of interpersonal weaknesses (and strengths too), a sentiment I read years ago popped into my head.
Erin Eldridge, author of Born That Way?, writes that in her quest to overcome her same-gender attractions, she was able to supplement her emotional needs and find solace in friendship and fulfilling relationship with the Lord. (Interesting sidebar: Sometime early in the book, she writes that she subconsciously mistrusted God because of his maleness, because of her bad experiences with men in the past, but eventually overcomes that fear. She writes, and I'm paraphrasing because I lost my copy, that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are perfected in their gender. They are both male personages, but in their flawlessness, they have grown beyond the shortcomings and limitations mortal males have. Interesting insight.)
Does anyone have any experience/practical advice with cultivating such a close relationship with the Godhead? I'd love to hear some insight into the matter. Also, looking for book recommendations.
My life is a good one. I generally am happy, but there's always room for improvement. Seems like getting better at living is a more effective solution than griping into the ethereal blogosphere.
I went to bed early that night. I was tired of dealing with the day and spent the last part of it counting down the minutes till I could go to bed late enough to avoid feeling like an old man. Before I laid down in bed, a said a quick, but earnest prayer. I told Heavenly Father how I felt. I told him how worried I was that I was always attracted to my friends. I asked for some kind of solution, so that someday I could have a good, fulfilling "best-friendship" with someone I appreciated and who appreciated me, without me adding a hopefully-invisible element of being a attracted to him.
Evergreen International says that male homosexuality isn't driven by poor relationships with women; instead it's poor relationships with men that cause our alternate attractions. Sometime, probably sometime early, we had some kind of experience that left us wanting for genuine and appropriate male bonding, and that desire became toxic as it grew.
Anyway, the next morning, I began thinking of why I felt like I did. I was happy in that I had been making good choices and had lots of blessings, but I was forced to confront the reality (again) that faithful obedience doesn't mean that I won't still be attracted to men. I'd made those bargains before, that I'd stop looking at pornography, that I'd serve a mission, that I'd go to BYU, that I'd accept any calling He had in store, if He'd just make this attraction go away. But that's just not how it works.
At work, in my hours of alone time, I mused about what to do with the friendship in question. I knew the standard answers, like losing myself in service, magnifying a calling, and improving myself, but those solutions, while worthwhile uses of my time, seemed like they beat around the bush. What I really needed was a way to feel like I could have a healthy relationship with someone.
I decided to make a list of things that make me happy, either superficially or really deeply, and decided that I'd make goals to correspond with each of those happy-makers. For example, I'm putting money into a savings account that's dedicated to repairing and customizing my car. I've also gone through my bookshelf and made a pile of books I'll be reading over the next few months. I found some old piano music that I like, so I'm going to start playing again. If this all sounds familiar, it's probably because I've said it before. These are the things that make me happy and I want to give them more prevalence in my life.
The only goal I'm really struggling with is trying to find fulfilling relationships. I'm not really capable of them, at least with other guys, as it turns out. I've outlined my shortcomings, but just have no idea how to approach them. As I was muddling through my list of interpersonal weaknesses (and strengths too), a sentiment I read years ago popped into my head.
Erin Eldridge, author of Born That Way?, writes that in her quest to overcome her same-gender attractions, she was able to supplement her emotional needs and find solace in friendship and fulfilling relationship with the Lord. (Interesting sidebar: Sometime early in the book, she writes that she subconsciously mistrusted God because of his maleness, because of her bad experiences with men in the past, but eventually overcomes that fear. She writes, and I'm paraphrasing because I lost my copy, that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are perfected in their gender. They are both male personages, but in their flawlessness, they have grown beyond the shortcomings and limitations mortal males have. Interesting insight.)
Does anyone have any experience/practical advice with cultivating such a close relationship with the Godhead? I'd love to hear some insight into the matter. Also, looking for book recommendations.
My life is a good one. I generally am happy, but there's always room for improvement. Seems like getting better at living is a more effective solution than griping into the ethereal blogosphere.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
What Salvation by Grace Means to Mormons
Linked below is a BYU-Provo devotional address given by Brad Wilcox, a faculty educator at the university and member of the Sunday School General Board. To be honest, I don't tend to like Brad Wilcox's talks because to me, they sound more like a string of nice, faith-promoting, uplifting stories rather than well-developed discourses on a central theme. This talk is what changed all that. Find 30 minutes to spare and watch it. In all honesty, it will change your life.
I watched this talk on Saturday night and it filled me with hope and confidence. I am so grateful that Brother Wilcox acknowledges how hard it is to be a Latter-Day Saint and what pressure it can put on an individual. In his address, he debunks lots of myths that I think most of us have regarding salvation by grace versus salvation through our works. Watch the talk because I won't do it justice, but the biggest take-home message I received is that grace isn't something that I get rewarded with after I've done all I can do, but instead is a gift I've already received and a tool that I need to use as I'm trying to do all I can do.
He begins by using a story of a student of his worrying because she knows that she's not doing all that she can do, as it impeaches in 2 Nephi 25: 23, "...for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do." This student acknowledges that she likes certain sins and dislikes certain virtues and knows that she hasn't reached the minimum requirement of "after all we can do." She fears that grace won't play a part in her life because she hasn't cleared that bar. Thank goodness Brother Wilcox gently corrects her misgivings about grace.
He expresses the sentiment beautifully when he likens it to a mother paying for her child's piano lessons. The child's practice time neither pays back the mother for the money she spent nor does it pay for the lessons themselves, but instead shows that the child appreciates and would like to take full advantage of the paid-for piano lessons. Additionally, the child's imperfections at the piano keyboard do not disqualify him from being able to keep practicing or taking the lessons; instead the child can go back and correct his mistakes and continue to improve. The mother will always supply the lessons when the child is willing to play and improve.
Brother Wilcox quips a few quotables. My favorite goes, "Latter-Day Saints know not only what Jesus has saved us from, but what He has saved us for." Another good one comes after he relates a story about a Protestant friend arguing that Mormons are trying to earn their way without grace: "We are not earning Heaven, but instead are learning Heaven." His point here is that we will fail and fall short, but this life is a time to practice being heavenly, because ultimately, it will be our choice to decide if we want to live with our Heavenly Father for eternity.
This thought intrigues me as well. He tells a story of a young man who, after a downward spiral, is coerced by his family to attend EFY. He doesn't even make it through the first day before he demands to come home, uncomfortable and annoyed as he is by his religious surroundings. Brother Wilcox says that this is what Heaven will be like for some of us. Instead of Jesus standing at the entrance, forbidding or allowing people to enter, He will be standing at the exit, begging people who want to leave to change their minds and choose to stay and become heavenly. The decision is ours, whether or not to give up.
The ultimate, overall feeling of the talk is one of the Savior's love. The timing of the talk is excellent as well, because it filled me with hope and faith that, even in my imperfection, the Savior's grace is there for us to partake of and use to improve ourselves. It makes me feel incredibly grateful that I don't have a minimum bar to reach to acquire this grace, and yet inspires and motivates me to do better now that I know and understand how His grace works a little bit better.
I watched this talk on Saturday night and it filled me with hope and confidence. I am so grateful that Brother Wilcox acknowledges how hard it is to be a Latter-Day Saint and what pressure it can put on an individual. In his address, he debunks lots of myths that I think most of us have regarding salvation by grace versus salvation through our works. Watch the talk because I won't do it justice, but the biggest take-home message I received is that grace isn't something that I get rewarded with after I've done all I can do, but instead is a gift I've already received and a tool that I need to use as I'm trying to do all I can do.
He begins by using a story of a student of his worrying because she knows that she's not doing all that she can do, as it impeaches in 2 Nephi 25: 23, "...for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do." This student acknowledges that she likes certain sins and dislikes certain virtues and knows that she hasn't reached the minimum requirement of "after all we can do." She fears that grace won't play a part in her life because she hasn't cleared that bar. Thank goodness Brother Wilcox gently corrects her misgivings about grace.
He expresses the sentiment beautifully when he likens it to a mother paying for her child's piano lessons. The child's practice time neither pays back the mother for the money she spent nor does it pay for the lessons themselves, but instead shows that the child appreciates and would like to take full advantage of the paid-for piano lessons. Additionally, the child's imperfections at the piano keyboard do not disqualify him from being able to keep practicing or taking the lessons; instead the child can go back and correct his mistakes and continue to improve. The mother will always supply the lessons when the child is willing to play and improve.
Brother Wilcox quips a few quotables. My favorite goes, "Latter-Day Saints know not only what Jesus has saved us from, but what He has saved us for." Another good one comes after he relates a story about a Protestant friend arguing that Mormons are trying to earn their way without grace: "We are not earning Heaven, but instead are learning Heaven." His point here is that we will fail and fall short, but this life is a time to practice being heavenly, because ultimately, it will be our choice to decide if we want to live with our Heavenly Father for eternity.
This thought intrigues me as well. He tells a story of a young man who, after a downward spiral, is coerced by his family to attend EFY. He doesn't even make it through the first day before he demands to come home, uncomfortable and annoyed as he is by his religious surroundings. Brother Wilcox says that this is what Heaven will be like for some of us. Instead of Jesus standing at the entrance, forbidding or allowing people to enter, He will be standing at the exit, begging people who want to leave to change their minds and choose to stay and become heavenly. The decision is ours, whether or not to give up.
The ultimate, overall feeling of the talk is one of the Savior's love. The timing of the talk is excellent as well, because it filled me with hope and faith that, even in my imperfection, the Savior's grace is there for us to partake of and use to improve ourselves. It makes me feel incredibly grateful that I don't have a minimum bar to reach to acquire this grace, and yet inspires and motivates me to do better now that I know and understand how His grace works a little bit better.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Circling the Wagons
I just found out about the Circling the Wagons conference this last weekend and I'm sad I didn't know about it in time. I'm not really plugged in to the gay-and-Mormon blogosphere, which I generally think is a good thing. I follow a few people here and there, but generally, I like my solitude when it comes to gay men. I don't have a very good track record of managing relationships with them. However, I was feeling that isolation today when I realized I missed what could have been a good experience.
Circling the Wagons is a large-scale conference held in Salt Lake City for gay and lesbian Latter-Day Saints and members of other faiths, or even for those reaching out to either the religious or the gay, or both. I'm sure there's a lot of agenda going on, probably a lot of agenda that might be damaging to my spirituality, but there was one speaker I'd have loved to hear: Bishop Kevin Kloosterman.
Bishop Kloosterman spoke in the Sunday morning interfaith worship service on the subject of finding peace within. He spoke on the homophobia in the world at large, calling it "an atrocity" that LGBTQ people of any faith had to deal with any manner of persecution.
In a clarifying interview with Joanna Brooks, Bishop Kloosterman outlines his quest for knowledge about the whys and wherefores behind homosexuality, especially as it relates to members of the Church. Having been a bishop for a few years, he felt prompted to learn more about the nature of the battle, even though he'd never encountered it in his life, either with himself, family members, friends, or even members of his ward. (That surprised me. I honestly thought that every ward had at least one.) In any case, this came to a boiling point for him recently when Salt Lake experienced three hate crimes directed at homosexuals in a short time. The bishop explains that it was no longer time to be a Levite, so he started getting more active in the gay Mormon community.
He further clarifies his statements made at the conference, saying that he upholds the standard that the Church has planted regarding homosexuality.
Circling the Wagons is a large-scale conference held in Salt Lake City for gay and lesbian Latter-Day Saints and members of other faiths, or even for those reaching out to either the religious or the gay, or both. I'm sure there's a lot of agenda going on, probably a lot of agenda that might be damaging to my spirituality, but there was one speaker I'd have loved to hear: Bishop Kevin Kloosterman.
Bishop Kloosterman spoke in the Sunday morning interfaith worship service on the subject of finding peace within. He spoke on the homophobia in the world at large, calling it "an atrocity" that LGBTQ people of any faith had to deal with any manner of persecution.
In a clarifying interview with Joanna Brooks, Bishop Kloosterman outlines his quest for knowledge about the whys and wherefores behind homosexuality, especially as it relates to members of the Church. Having been a bishop for a few years, he felt prompted to learn more about the nature of the battle, even though he'd never encountered it in his life, either with himself, family members, friends, or even members of his ward. (That surprised me. I honestly thought that every ward had at least one.) In any case, this came to a boiling point for him recently when Salt Lake experienced three hate crimes directed at homosexuals in a short time. The bishop explains that it was no longer time to be a Levite, so he started getting more active in the gay Mormon community.
He further clarifies his statements made at the conference, saying that he upholds the standard that the Church has planted regarding homosexuality.
"The way the Tribune reports it takes my words out of context. I
was not criticizing the Church. In fact, I felt and feel like we needed
to support the leadership of the Church in their movements forward with
our gay brothers and sisters."
I appreciate that sentiment. I admit that in times of weakness I think that the Church is outdated and that homosexuality within the membership will be to the 21st century what being black was to the 20th century. However, at my core, I believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ as it is revealed today to church leaders. I also believe that things will work out in their own time and season, and while I'm not positive what form that they'll take, I still believe it. So I appreciate that Bishop Kloosterman acknowledges both the struggle and the strides the leadership is taking towards spreading a gospel of love, while still upholding the standards of the Church.
In any case, I don't regret not going to the conference too much, especially since this was the first Sunday in a very long time that I didn't leave my ward feeling hopeless. It's good I stayed home, but I will definitely be Celestial-TiVoing Bishop Kloosterman's talk when I get to the other side.
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