Labyrinth

I was introduced to a new religious archetype this weekend, the labyrinth.

Some friends and I were exploring the grounds of Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennessee and we found ourselves at the Scarritt Bennett Center, a religious institution and retreat.  We followed the signs toward the garden and found a labyrinth set into the ground with paving stones. It was in the center of a lovely courtyard with trees dropping vibrant yellow and red leaves onto the grass below. The air was fresh with just a nip of cold in it, something that I didn't realize I missed, having spent my fall in humid, rainy Dallas. It was a lovely, affirming morning.

But it got even better.

The labyrinth is an interesting icon. Anthology has taught us that it was an important symbol in Greek myth, Tantric Buddhism, Native American mythology, and Egyptian culture. Many people use it the word synonymously with "maze," but they are not the same thing.

I started at the beginning of the labyrinth, sort of as a lark, but with each turn, I got more and more emotional until I was almost in tears by the time I stepped into the center.  It was such a beautiful experience. My friends and I discussed it and made a few realizations.

The first is that if you look at the center or the other paths, you're going to be confused when the path you're on changes course unexpectedly. The best move, for motion-sickness-avoiding sake, is to look as far down your own path as you can and look for the turn ahead, then look for the next turn after that, and so on, and turn by turn, you'll eventually get where you're going.

The next is that there will be times when you're really close to the center, but your path will suddenly bear farther away for a few moments. It's actually really frustrating being one bank away from the center one moment and then four banks away the next.  But that's how it goes.

The final thought we had is the difference between mazes and labyrinths. As the plaque in the SBC's courtyard explained, a labyrinth has no tricks or dead ends.  There is one path and it always leads to the center if one presses forward long enough.

Do you remember the experience I had with my Heavenly Father a few weeks ago? When His soft, gentle voice told me that it would be okay someday, even though now was shit?  Since then, my life has been exponentially easier.  Don't get me wrong, it still sucks being me in a lot of ways (and it rocks being me in just as many ways [US Grand Prix was this weekend and I was there :) ]), but through it all, I have hope that it will be okay, and the mere presence of that hope makes all the difference.

That's what this labyrinth was to me.  It was proof that life turns out okay, even if the path you're on is circuitous, serpentine, and inefficient.  If you press forward and only look as far ahead as the next turn, you'll get there eventually.

I took a video of the path.  Feel free to watch and experience it through my eyes.

Pastor in Process

My friend Brad posted something pretty cool on his blog this week.  After being excommunicated from the Anglican church, he posted his rationale for the actions that led to his disfellowship from the church in which he grew up and studied to become a priest.

Go have a read.  I wish y'all could see the Facebook conversation it's generating.

Pastor in Process - Why I Date Men: A Conversation Starter

EDIT: His Facebook link is active. Here's the conversation that it started. He gave me permission to link to it, but please be respectful of his choices, his friends, and his privacy.  And give my blog a shout if you leave a comment, I'd be interested to see how many people came from here, haha. Shameless plug over.

Treating the symptoms while ignoring the causes

My brother is a doctor of osteopathy. It's a unique school of thought within the medical field that emphasizes healing the body's core problems, rather than merely treating the symptoms. He's a full-fledged doctor who works at a legitimate hospital and can write prescriptions and perform surgeries and do anything a medical doctor can, but he was educated to not merely prescribe painkillers to someone with a sore throat. Instead, he finds the root cause of the pain and treats that to solve the problem from the inside out.

My struggle with pornography addiction has been similar.

For years, I have had doubts about the LDS church. I have always wondered why this and why that. I have heard the vile rumors about Joseph Smith's personal life and speculated more perverse motivations behind plural marriage as the early Utahans practiced it. I have pondered about the nature and origin of the Book of Mormon and questioned its validity as a book of scripture.

However, these questions always coincided with my struggles with pornography. I'd relapse and binge, then feel terrible, then doubt the truthfulness of the gospel. I always assumed that because I'd chased the Spirit away with my porn consumption and made way for the Adversary to enter my thoughts. It became easy to quiet those doubts by reassuring myself that it was my disobedience that fed them.

However, after abstaining from porn for longer than I have in years, I've found that the opposite may be true. My consumption of porn may have been a manifestation of my doubts, rather than the other way around. Those doubts may have always been there and merely covered up by a scapegoat of pornography, when in reality, I only watched porn to distract myself from the core problems.  As I abstained from pornography, I treated a symptom of the doubt while ignoring the root cause of it all.

I assumed that after I'd had some time apart from pornography, things would seem brighter and better. For some time, they did. I felt more confident and stronger in my day-to-day life; nothing could touch me. But as time passed and the "new" wore off, I found those same doubts wriggling their way into my head. They consumed me. "What if I'm totally wrong? What if God doesn't care who I marry or what church I go to or how I live, so long as I'm nice and kind and helpful?" I laid awake at night, wondering about the possibilities.

This all came to a head today. I was so sick of these questions bouncing around in my head and I snapped. I woke up for work early, but called in sick. I spent the rest of the day aimlessly walking around the house, checking the fridge every few minutes, washing a dish or two, flipping channels. I browsed the Internet listlessly, wasting my time in front of Craigslist or YouTube or Facebook. I planned on doing some work on the house and yard, but when the time came, I stayed on the couch instead. I had zero motivation to do anything; my brain was broken. I was overcritical of myself and my family, sarcastic and unkind to the one individual I saw when gassing up this morning and completely out of touch with my emotions and reality.

I was (and still am) amazed that removing pornography from my life didn't cure my doubts. But after a holistic blessing from that same osteopath I mentioned before, I see what I need to do to fix them. I have some motivation to do what needs to be done and to literally get my house in order before I can get the answers I need. I'm still shooting for a mission and all the blessings of faithful church membership, but I recognize that I'm on shaky ground, standing on a thin crust of earth ready to give way at any moment.

I do not regret removing pornography from my life and I encourage everyone affected by it to do the same. But it's interesting and surprising what you'll find after you've removed that scapegoat.

As usual, if you want to talk, feel free to e-mail me. But I'm also asking that you please pray for me tonight and tomorrow. I need motivation to work and I need a clear head to get those answers I seek.  Thanks.

Can I Bear His Cross?

One of my best friends wrote a very beautiful musical fireside presentation that was performed tonight.  It was about the Atonement of Jesus Christ, told from the point of view of some of the "supporting characters" from the Gospels. People like Mary of Bethany, the Roman centurion who understood Jesus' divinity, Joseph of Arimithea, and Pontius Pilate each had a story to tell through beautiful music.

One song absolutely cut me to my core. Simon the Cyrenian, a passerby during Jesus' burdensome walk to Calvary, was compelled to carry the cross for Jesus by the Romans. My friend told his story through the most beautiful song I've heard in a long time.

Can I Bear His Cross?

Lauren Woodbury

I was only passing through, unaware of the reason for the throng,

But something in me knew as I walked along.

And then I saw the man, bruised, wearied and tried

And I didn't understand why he was to be crucified.

Suddenly they pulled me from the crowd and laid his cross on me.

I was compelled to follow this Jesus on the road to Calvary.

And as I struggled to stand, I wondered,

Can I bear His cross? Can I ease His pain?

If my will were lost, what would be the cost and would He complain?

And when this burden has passed, who will keep the stain?

Can I bear His cross? Can I ease His pain?

I was only halfway there, stumbling under the weight of my load,

Following his footsteps with care as we walked up the road.

And then I saw the place. Gratefully I fell to the ground,

Looked up and saw His face, and in His eyes I found

The anguish of a thousand souls was deeply written

In expressions of determined love and mercy never hidden.

And as I looked on this man, I wondered,

Did I bear His cross? Did I ease His pain?

If my will were lost, what would be the cost and would He have complained?

And now this burden has passed and He keeps the stain.

Did I bear His cross? Did I ease His pain?

Then they seized Him, He was cruelly driven

To that dark hill where His fate was set,

And they raised Him as He raised His voice to Heaven

With pleading words that I will never forget.

For if we're only passing through, unaware of His suffering that day,

We won't know the pain He knew and we won't hear Him say,

I will bear your cross. I will ease your pain.

When your will is lost, I will pay the cost, and I won't complain.

And when your burden has passed, I will keep the stain.

I will bear your cross, I will ease your pain.

Even if no one ever reads those lyrics all the way through, I am glad I wrote them here. I am glad that in writing them, I relived the moment in which Simon of Cyrene sang the last verse. 

My cross, while something that I know I can manage with the Lord's help, has been feeling heavy lately. I'm struggling with some pretty intense loneliness and a case of unrequited love from both the girl I think could be the one and the straight best friend that I just can't help being attracted to. On top of that, my beloved and underinsured car was stolen just a few days after I spent 12 hours and 1000 dollars fixing it and I've been having trouble signing up for classes, finding a ride back to school, and getting housing that's close enough for a recently-carless individual.  I don't mention these things to complain (much), but instead to show how much relief I felt at hearing this song tonight.

Jesus is bearing my cross right now. He knows how much I love my best friend and He knows how hard I want to make it work with a woman.  He knows that getting on a mission is hard and that I'm trying, but failing occasionally. He knows about my collegiate stress and my unfortunate loss of a car I patiently and lovingly restored. He knows my money woes (of which I have little and shouldn't even complain about). He knows how nervous I am to uproot myself yet again and move to a new city, leaving behind family and friends, some of whom I'll likely never see again in this life.  

Christ has taken all of that and willingly put it upon His shoulders.  His Atonement and grace are sufficient to bear me up, even when the trials seem too difficult to bear. He's leading me until I stumble and can go no further, and then He's picking up the cross from off of my back and carrying it the rest of the way.

This Simon the Cyrenian was right. Jesus' burden wasn't the cross, it was the knowledge of each of our pains, sicknesses, sins, and sorrows. And that burden which He willingly bore so long ago is what now enables Him to lift us up and bear us home when we feel like we can take no more.

I have such a strong testimony of that and I am so grateful for the knowledge that I have that, by trusting in Jesus Christ's grace, everything will work out alright.

I'm filled with emotions tonight, some happy, some sad, and some bittersweet, but this life is good.

Light Switches and Sunrise

Several months ago, I was asked to give a talk on personal revelation. It was a great experience. I already love giving talks in church (I'm a natural-born attention whore [gay guy=attention whore. shocker]), but I was asked to speak on acquiring personal revelation, a topic I was already working on improving in my life, so it was perfect!

I came across a talk given by Elder Bednar in Conference in April 2011. In it, he gave two allegories, both pertaining to revelation: A person can walk into a dark room and flip a light switch. In almost an instant, the contents of the room are revealed. The room very quickly becomes filled with light and the transition from darkness to light is palpable and quantifiable. That same person can sit outside on a dark early morning and watch for the sun over the east. Before the sun even comes close to the horizon, it lightens the sky above it. Gradually, the person's surroundings become less obscured, little by little. And the sun doesn't need to be visible for everything to be clear and illuminated. The transition from darkness to light is difficult to quantify, but the increasing presence of light is identifiable. The moment when the sun breaks the horizon is obvious and glorious, but it was preceded by an increase of light of an infinite magnitude.

Such is personal revelation. Rarely, people walk into the dark rooms of their heart to find a light switch installed, a switch that answers questions and chases away doubt instantaneously. However, much more common is the gradual increase of knowledge. By sitting out on a dark morning and looking for light, we find it little by little, as details become illuminated until we are able to see clearly. And only after we see those things clearly do we see God clearly.

A very interesting thought that Elder Bednar highlights is that even things that seem like light-switch moments were really sunrises. He specifically discusses the First Vision, which is as literal a manifestation of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ as has been recorded in the common era. Surely, a personal appearance from the Supreme Being and His Son would constitute a light switch revelation, no?

Well, as it turns out, a careful reading of Joseph Smith's history shows that he came to the Sacred Grove to pray with a question: Which church should I join? And skipping to the end of the account we see that he isn't really given an answer. He is told to join none of the churches and await more instruction as the time comes. He was left to face all of those same worldly concerns he had before: ostracization from the local ministry, threats and ridicule from his friends, and still no definite course of action to bring about his salvation. In fact, such a manifestation from God the Father may have left him with more questions. But his faith in seeking answers paid off. Gradually, he received the knowledge he needed to restore the Gospel in its fulness to mankind. It started with a grandiose and glorious revelation, but certainly not one that gave the Prophet all the answers he wanted.

By the way, this is my 100th post. Retrospective imminent.

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!

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.

Some Semblance of Relief

After my admittedly embarrassing post on Thursday night, I was left to ponder what to do with myself. Every option seemed impossible, but as my brother is wont to say, "The only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time."

I set a list of smaller goals that perhaps seemed more attainable than turning my life around and serving a mission in three months.  I decided that, to serve a mission, first I needed to grow more trust in the Lord's plan for me, and if I felt that He trusted me to live with another probably-handsome young man for two years, then I could do it.  I also decided that, first, to become mission-worthy, I need to become temple-worthy, so I spoke with my bishop about the prospect of getting my temple recommend and receiving my endowment, even if I decide not to serve, just so I could feel like I was doing more for my salvation than I currently am.  I also set out a bunch of fun new rules that I get to follow, like making sure to pray and read in the morning before I get to work, as well as some personal goals like swimming and jogging to keep all this a 10 and spending more time out of the house pursuing my favorite hobbies with friends and family.  Introspection is all well and good, but for the time being, I think the less time spent alone in my head the better.

Among so many other things, the advice my loving bishop had to offer was that I needed not fear disappointment in myself or others' disappointment in me if I honestly feel like a mission isn't a good choice.  That one is hard for me to wrap my head around, because all I see is disappointment whenever I tell my parents that I need to postpone my mission, but hopefully my new goals will help with that. He also reassured me of some of my more positive qualities, which I wasn't fishing for or necessarily inclined to listen to, but it was nice of him to say anyway.  And he seemed optimistic about my ability to either serve a mission or serve in the temple, which will help me feel optimistic as well.  Admittedly, I'm living off of borrowed light, but at least I'm living.

Perhaps the biggest piece of encouragement I received this week came from an unlikely source. I attended a funeral of one of our family friends yesterday and was overwhelmed with her family's faith and reassurance in the Atonement of Christ.  Her daughter, a girl I used to hang out with occasionally, shared a touching and optimistic letter her mother had written a year ago, which referenced Job 23:8-10.

Behold I go forward, but he is not there; and backward, but I cannot perceive him.  On the left hand, where he doth work, but I cannot behold him: he hideth himself on the right hand, that I cannot see him: but he knoweth the way that I take: when he hath tried me I shall come forth as gold.

My friend's mother had found this scripture while battling depression and struggling to understand why her righteous desires weren't being granted and wondering why the Lord's will was so different and difficult to follow.  As my friend read this letter, I saw myself standing in her mother's shoes.  I felt a little selfish thinking of myself at someone else's funeral, but at the same time, I saw this woman for so much more than the perfect parent, spouse, and church member that I initially thought she was.  She battled disease, depression, and disillusionment for her positive outlook; it did not come naturally to her.

I suppose that's how things generally go. To crib an idea from a friend, the Lord gives us those lonely Thursday nights and then awakes us on Friday morning with the perspective we need to move forward with a little more faith than we had the night before.  Perhaps I'll remember that next time I feel the world start to fall apart.

Keep Moving Forward

I've been a little bipolar lately.  Both my jobs give me a lot of alone time, which isn't usually a bad thing, but lately it has been.  I've been reliving all of my embarrassing moments, all of my mistakes and failed relationships, all of my transgressions, etc.  I try and distract myself with my work, by going through my to-do list in my head, or by fantasizing about the one thing that usually works to sidetrack the brain into something semi-productive, but in the end, I still find myself wincing and turning red at the thought of my past.  I even am haunted by the time when I, as a 7-year-old, pushed a girl down because she was making fun of my project in art class, a memory which, by most accounts, should be fairly easily reconciled.  It seems I can't escape my past.

In any case, I've been feeling pretty down in the dumps lately and my confidence has been shaken. This was all coming to a head last weekend.  I got home Saturday night from a camping trip, having had a lot of fun, but still feeling a little blue.  I've been craving a certain movie for a few weeks, and I decided I needed some alone time to enjoy it and try to get my head in a decent place, so I ran out to Blockbuster and picked up Meet the Robinsons, one of Disney's most underrated animated features and my absolute favorite movie.

I will try really hard not to ruin it, because you probably haven't seen it and you absolutely should. It's one of those rare movies that will make you laugh and cry, but leave you feeling better about the world when the movie is over.  (Sidebar: I defy anyone who is even marginally emotional not to cry the first time you see it. I also defy anyone with even the smallest of funny bones not to laugh hysterically through the whole movie ["I have a big head and little arms. I'm just not sure how well this plan was thought through."])

Anyway, the central theme echoed several times is, "Keep moving forward."  This line is taken from a quote that states that looking back gets you nowhere and the only way to go is forward (watch the movie and you get to find out who said it first, it's a pleasant surprise). Louis, a lonely orphan, spends most of the movie looking back and wishing he knew his birth mother, but a glimpse into the future and the marvels it holds changes his outlook and inspires him to move forward.

Louis was lucky.  He, through the use of a time machine, got to see the next chapter in his life's story.  Incredibly few of us are given that literal of a gift.  However, I think we all have a sense of what happens next.  Each of us has an idea of what life will bring if we start working today to attain some of our goals. And even though life rarely turns out like you plan, with every step forward the vision becomes a little clearer and the goal becomes a little more refined. The past is gone, and while it has its share of crappy memories for everyone, most of them can remain in the past if we keep moving forward, one step at a time.