Exponent II's Blog, page 203

Resigned Priest Shares Journey of Being a Transgender Catholic Loved by God

Resigned Priest Shares Journey of Being a Transgender Catholic Loved by God

Book Review: Born to Change the World

[image error]I am not sure where I first heard of Brad Wilcox.  I confess that reading about him in his book profiles left me uninterested in his work because of this one item: “He speaks at Time Out for Women (TOFW) events.” I have attended all of one TOFW, and didn’t feel impressed by the presenters- in fact, I was pretty disappointed. Wilcox was NOT at the event I attended, but the TOFW tagline dissuaded me from giving him a chance.

 

Yep. I judged a book by it’s cover, metaphorically speaking. It was’t until I read a post from Melissa Dalton-Bradford praising Wilcox’s written words that I decided to I could give him a chance– so I jumped at this book when I saw it for review. And for that, I am grateful. 

 

But let’s get the critique out of the way first: This book is subtitled, “You Part in Gathering Israel.” The gathering of Israel is in re-assembling the lineage of the houses of Israel (Jacob). These houses are constructed of through the patriarchal lineage created by the sons of Jacob, by seed and adoption. It is a masculine history that quite frankly, can leave women and girls feeling like the chattel of their fathers, husbands and sons. 

 

Thankfully, Wilcox does his best to remove typical gendered language, no matter how antiquated. Indeed, when possible, he includes stories, and antidotes of the women in his life which have helped him to make his path, and serve as examples to all of us. This is done subtly and respectfully, so that the inclusion of women is not passive, nor is it forced. Such as referring to his wife as his “companion” when they were called to serve in a mission presidency, positioning her as neither his senior, nor junior his companion: she is presented as his equal. There are enough well-worded inclusions of women that I felt like the author valued women as equal participants in God’s plan.  

 

The book is not long, and can easily be read in an afternoon. I plan to read it chapter by chapter with my tween daughters as I believe the language and content is clear, easy to read, and presented in a way that makes the complications of lineage into something simple. It sheds a great light on some of the more symbolic and somewhat complicated parts of scripture, and does exactly what the title says: it teaches the reader what our part is in gathering Israel. It does not included gendered instruction, but focuses on the purpose of Christ. 

 

I recommend this book as a gratifying and delightful look at the gathering of Israel and what it means for each of us and our relationship with Jesus Christ. 

A Trans Blessing, part 2

Guest post by Victoria Hutchings, President of the Bay Area Chapter of Affirmation

Issac’s trans blessing was in good hands with my friend Kimberly leading, my only job was to find folx to fill out the circle. I sent out a bunch of invites and no bites. I procrastinated a bit and finally put up a Facebook post asking for volunteers.

My femme sister in law (actually my roomie/brother’s niece but whatever: queer family) volunteered her sweet husband Jack. But that was all. People were busy, or it was too far, or they rightly wanted nothing to do with anything even a little associated with mormonism.

But there was no way I wasn’t gonna do absolutely everything I could for Issac.

In last minute desperation I googled ‘how to unblock contact iphone’. I was going to do the unthinkable and call my lousy jerk of an ex husband, Ethan. We’d been a Liz and Richard- fights and jewelry and passion, and it had ended very badly. 5 years without speaking and having my heart recently broken even worse by someone else made me willing to reach out. He immediately said yes.

I was going to boldly mix my dyke drama with Heather’s Mormon drama.

He showed up early in his grandpa’s bolo tie, had a pile of feathers and stones he collected, books of poetry… his holy stuff. He talked about love, and blessed Issac that wherever zie was would always be the right, holy path. It was perfect.

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Seeing Ethan and Jack standing in that circle, melted a hardness I had been carrying around in my heart. It was a glimpse of a masculine divinity that doesn’t abandon and reject, is gentle and loving, that feels like a leather motorcycle jacket wrapping around you in a tight hug that lifts you off your feet a little. It was the first domino that fell into place that fall leading to me reconciling with another dude who really broke my heart: Heavenly Father.

A Trans Blessing, part 1

A couple of years ago, I wrote about the women’s blessing I and a few of my ward sisters did for my oldest’s baptism, right after the confirmation. Today I’d like to share about my second child Isaac’s, baptism and blessings from last October. Isaac uses ze/zir pronouns.

It took us a little time to plan Isaac’s baptism. Zir birthday is in the summer and by early September, we still had not planned it. I wasn’t sure how I wanted to engage in the Church, especially with the Church’s decades of anti-LGBTQ statements and policies. But sitting in church one Sunday at the beginning of September I felt impressed that if we were going to do it, we should do it soon. Part of that is weather-related. Here in the Bay Area, our hottest months are September and October and if we were going to do another baptism in the Bay, this would be the time. Early October was perfect timing so we did it the weekend of conference.

[image error]The big day!

I still wanted to participate in Isaac’s baptism and blessing, so I asked zir, “Do you want a women’s blessing or would you like a parents’ blessing with Mommy and Daddy together?” Ze answered, “Is there such thing as a trans blessing?”

I responded, “Well, I’ve never heard of a trans blessing, but I’m sure we can do one.” I do have connections in the local queer Mormon community so I asked my friend Victoria if she thought we could find some trans Mormons to do a blessing for Isaac. She said she probably could find some people. Her side of this story will be published later today.

With a trans blessing planned for after the confirmation, I did not have a way to participate in Isaac’s baptism. My husband would perform both the baptism and confirmation and I would would sit out both of those and the trans blessing. So we worked it out that my husband would confirm Isaac up until “Receive the Holy Ghost. Amen,” and stop just like in the temple. Everything after “Receive the Holy Ghost” is generally a father’s blessing for most children, so we decided that would be a good time to invite me to do a parents’ blessing.

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And after the baptism in the chilly water and my participation as the “towel holder,” Isaac was confirmed on the beach and then the men were dismissed and McKay and I gave Isaac a blessing.

[image error]Parent’s blessing

After that, it was time for the trans blessing. Kimberly led it. I mostly expected it to be a lot like the mother’s blessing or parent’s blessing, but she decided to use a different format. The people participating in the blessing included Isaac and held hands in the circle.

[image error]Trans Blessing

Each person, Kimberly, Ethan, and Jack, took turns giving Isaac what blessing they had for zir: that the divine is within zir, that whatever path ze takes will be the right one for zir, and to hold to zir convictions.

It was a very lovely day and I’m so glad that Isaac got to have such a wonderful community to welcome zir into the Church and Mormonism. I’m glad that we were able to make Isaac’s request a reality. I know we live in a unique place in the Church and not every nonbinary child can have the same opportunities, but maybe by sharing stories like this we can change that.

Shades of Becoming: Poems of Faith Transition Bulleted List of Poems

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Please see the bulleted list of poems below that correspond to the four themes discussed in the Exponent Book Review for Shades of Becoming: Poems of Faith Transition, edited by Nancy Ross and Kristen R. Shill.

Theme 1: There is power in giving voice to anger, pain, and loss experienced in faith and faith transition

The Questions, Josie
Chilton, p. 34Misunderstanding;
Susan Meredith Hinckley, p. 33CTR, Brittany Sweeney-Lawson,
p. 39untitled, Coral Rose
Goplin, p. 45 untitled, Coral Rose
Goplin, p. 58Alchemy, Coral Rose
Goplin, p. 51Storage, Maren Chen, p.
61 Untitled, Allison
Ulrich, p. 64Donna, J. Marie
Murphy, p. 55(eve), Coral Rose
Goplin, p. 86Bad Habits, Holly
Welker, p. 16

Theme 2: There is power in showing bold and unconditional love, acceptance, and protection for the parts of ourselves that have been wrongly made to feel bad, ashamed, or unacceptable, especially within the context of faith.

Absolution, J. Marie Murphy,
p. 9Absolution II, J.
Marie Murphy, p. 28Sacred Wild, Keira
Shae, p. 68 Of Hearts and Boxes, Sarah
Broat, p. 77Throwing Shade, Mark
Jeffreys, p. 92holy, Kristen R. Shill,
p. 100untitled, Heather
Harris-Bergevin, p. 88

Theme 3: Spiritual life is deeply complex and intricate, and can be experienced differently at different times in our lives

Geology Lesson, Susan
Meredith Hinckley, p. 38untitled, Coral Rose
Goplin, p. 40When I Prayed Again, Mette
Ivie Harrison, p. 41Babel, Susan Meredith
Hinckley, p. 73 Absolution III, J.
Marie Murphy, p. 90a blessing for those
who begin, Nancy Ross, p. 5

Theme 4: Resolution follows the pain and loss of any experience related to faith transition, finding a new faith, or leaving faith completely

Losing faith, Coral Rose Goplin, p. 74 Bricks, Stephanie Sorensen, p. 75A Blessing for those who begin; Nancy Ross, p. 5)Absolution III, J. Marie Murphy, p. 90A Heathen’s Prayer, Kristen R. Shill, p. 107Endless Pit, Mette Ivie Harrison, p. 67

Book Review – Shades of Becoming: Poems of Faith Transition

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July 2019

By LMA

The compilation of poems in “Shades of Becoming: Poems of Faith Transition” edited by Nancy Ross and Kristen R. Shill is direct, powerful, introspective, affirming, and very much needed. In the introduction of the book, Nancy Ross explains the book is framed using three different developmental components of faith transition and change: 1. In the shallows (early stages of faith transition and loss). 2. The deep end (more intense and developed pain and anger). 3. Finding ground (resolution).

These are some of the
themes that brought comfort, clarity, and validation to my experience of faith
transition:

Theme 1: There is power in giving voice to anger, pain, and loss experienced in faith and faith transition. The collection of poems in “Shades of Becoming” describe with sharpness, directness, and power the emotions, questions, and experiences involved in faith and experiencing a faith transition. The poems describe with clarity the unanswered questions involved in a faith transition (The Questions, Josie Chilton, p. 34; Storage, Maren Chen, p. 61) and the inequity and pain of not having a place of safety and comfort within our faith (untitled, Coral Rose Goplin, p. 58).

One of the loveliest parts of the poems in this volume is that the authors speak pragmatically, honestly, and assertively about the many inequities, pain, and losses experienced in our faith. As women+ or female-identifying people, we are often not taught to directly name our pain or the unspoken truths about our faith or how it has affected us. Allison Ulrich (untitled, p. 64) writes about the complexity of her experience, experiencing both comfort and betrayal in our church. In addition, J. Marie Murphy eloquently writes about an experience with her grandmother asking “you still go to church, don’t you?” The poem powerfully describes the pain and anger and sadness of patriarchy, and the ways our mothers, grandmothers, and other women we love experience patriarchy, even if they do not perceive it as causing them pain. She writes, in part (see p. 55):

Excerpt from Donna by J. Marie Murphy:

I confess that her heart may not have broken
But mine did

Broke knowing how she must’ve been systematically
Disrespected
And overlooked

Broke knowing
Her clever mind and sharp sensibilities
Were ignored
Her skills patronized

My heart breaks for the tidy woman,
Comfortable shrouded in floral wallpaper
Comfortable shrouded in the fog of patriarchal righteousness

Her heart may not have broken,
But mine did

I don’t even have to know her story
To know her story

Don’t we all
All of us women
Birthed or bred into piety
Saddled with scripture
Have a version of the same story?  

Theme 2: There is power in showing bold and unconditional love, acceptance, and protection for the parts of ourselves that have been wrongly made to feel bad, ashamed, or unacceptable, especially within the context of faith. My favorite parts in this book are the poems that describe the ways we can lean into and find power and comfort from those parts of ourselves that are misunderstood and seen as less acceptable, particularly within the context of faith. There is so much in our faith that is punishable in various ways and to various degrees. There is something so lovely and delicate and subversive about understanding and knowing and protecting those parts of ourselves. The parts that doubt. The parts that are unclean. The parts that are human. The parts that are wild. The poems present reminders that as humans, we require time in wild spaces (Sacred Wild, Keira Shae, p. 68) and that we are already whole (holy, Kristen R. Shill, p. 100).

For me, one of the stand-out poets in the volume is J. Marie Murphy. She unequivocally writes she does not need absolution, which she defines as “a cleansing, a purification, an exoneration, of the wrong-doings, the wrong-feelings, the wrong-choosings” (Absolution, p. 9). Later on, she describes how absolution is like bleach that makes everything white, and that “I have never been nor do I aspire to be a white, bright T-shirt. I have always been Indigo dyed, woven thread of denim. And I think I prefer it that way… let me be worthy without bleach” (Absolution II, p. 28).

The poems also describe ways we can rely on our own heart and intuition as a “solitary point of honesty.” Sarah Broat writes one of the most delicate and lovely poems in the entire volume that talks about the power in allowing yourself to love things and people you love and to rely on your own intuition (see “Of Hearts and Boxes, p. 77). She says “I saw you and my soul lit up. God said no. The Church said no. But my heart said yes” (see p. 77). In a faith that is so threatened by the very being and existence of certain groups of people (e.g., queer people, trans people, women) and the many varied and lovely intersections of identity its members embody (e.g., intersections of sex, gender, race, marital status, anatomy, mental and physical ability), this level of self-understanding, trust of one’s inner-voice, vulnerability, and self-care is so delicate and powerful.

Theme 3: Spiritual life is deeply
complex and intricate, and can be experienced differently at different times in
our lives. The poems also describe
the deep complexity of faith and spiritual life, and the ways we as individuals
conceptualize our experiences in faith. The poems describe how faith and
certain aspects of our faith are deeply intricate and can feel different ways at
different times in our lives. For example, in “Geology Lesson,” Susan Meredith
Hinckley describes the many different ways her faith has felt (e.g., a stone so
heavy it requires angels to move it, a stone skipping across the water, a pebble
in her shoe, a rock in her pocket; see p. 38). She later writes that God is
everywhere and “speaks to us in any language we can understand” (e.g., birds,
trees, silence, eyes, faces, pie, dishwater, song; see Babel, p. 73). Others
describe the pain of trying to find and hear God, constantly asking for them,
and finding nothing, and then finally hearing a simple answer of “I am here” (When
I Prayed Again, Mette Ivie Harrison, p. 41). The complexities of managing trauma
experiences related to faith and faith transition also affect our lives (Absolution
III, J. Marie Murphy, p. 80).

Theme 4: Resolution follows the pain and loss of any experience related to faith transition, finding a new faith, or leaving faith completely. The poems describe the resolution process that follows the loss, pain, and restructuring that accompanies faith transition in any form (e.g., leaving one’s church and going to a new church, leaving one’s church and not returning to any church). Coral Rose Goplin describes this process like a form of childbirth. She writes “I birthed this faithlessness. Long contractions growing intensity. Pain. Anguish. Despair. The tearing away of something nurtured and sustained so long. Until it is separate. No longer mine” (losing faith, p. 74). Others describe the delicate sifting process that is required during this resolution phase where we must decide what aspects of our faith and spiritual identity must be kept, and what should be left behind (A blessing for those who begin, Nancy Ross, p. 5; Bricks, Stephanie Sorensen, p. 75).

I highly recommend “Shades of Becoming: Poems of Faith Transition” to anyone experiencing faith transition in any form. These poems are important, needed, and powerful. I hope reading these poems provides validation, comfort, and safety for those who read them.

What poems spoke to you? How did they make you
feel?

For a bulleted list of the poems according to the themes discussed in this review, please click here.

Making Meditation Work for Me

About 10 years ago, a therapist told me meditation might be helpful for my depression. I have tried it off and on during graduate school, as a chaplain, at periods of life when I hoped it would add to my prayers, but I found that I couldn’t sit for more than a minute before I was anxious and miserable. At one point, he suggested that I just try to sit and listen for 20 minutes to a favorite music album. Determined to be the “good” patient, I did this. I shook and cried and felt generally miserable the whole time. That was my last time meditating.

[image error] Photo by wilsan u on Unsplash
[small Buddha statue sitting with his knee up and head resting on knee]

When a severe depressive episode happened (I am only now feeling brave enough to call it what it plainly was, a mental breakdown) a couple years ago, I began building a toolkit, i.e. finding all the skills and tools I could to manage this mental illness beyond medication and therapy.

Over and over again, I read about the benefits of mindfulness and meditation. While I wanted to check that off my list as having not worked for me, I thought I should try again. I asked Exponent current and former perma bloggers about their favorite meditation guides, The Exponent blog founding mother, Deborah Kris, recommended the University of California at Los Angeles’ (UCLA) Mindful Awareness Research Center (MARC). The five minute breathing meditation here,https://www.uclahealth.org/marc/mindful-meditations, was the only meditation I did for a year and a half. Good days, bad days, I didn’t notice much of a change other than some ease in my mind during and often after those five minutes.

I’ve added other tools to help me better master meditation and mindfulness along that way. I realized that my continual need to keep busy, to volunteer for too much, to try to help anyone…these were ways I could avoid being by myself. I didn’t think I was a good person, a kind person, a person worthy of existing, unless I kept busy serving others and making the world a better place (Seriously, I remember reading Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s book, The Cost of Discipleship, and knowing I was a failure because I wasn’t “as good” a person as he was).

In the beginning, my mindfulness and meditation tools were largely secular, but in the past six months, I have found such comfort in understanding the background of these tools that can be found in Buddhism. Sometimes, I kick myself that I didn’t study Buddhism more closely in college and grad school or even when I first got so sick. Still, it makes sense; I was so scared of losing the religious tradition I loved and dedicated so much of my life to…I just couldn’t see how I could well, to oversimplify, be faithful to Jesus while learning about Buddha.

The books and links I offer below are all free or were checked out of the library. I have looked at others and paid for classes and other tools, so I was surprised to realize that the most effective materials for me (beyond UCLA MARC’s Intensive Practice Program, which is worth every penny) have been free.

Meditation for Beginners I got this book free years ago through Audible. The writing is simple, the exercises accessible, and it really does provide all the basics.

The Mindful Way Through Depression I wish I had had this book when my depression was first starting to take over my life. I use these guided meditations when I feel like I am starting to slide.

Self-Compassion: the Proven Power of Being Kind to Yourself Sara McPhee Lafkas did a workshop on This book literally changed my life. It was my first introduction to mindfulness, and I learned about it at an Exponent retreat a couple years ago when Sara Lafkas did a presentation on it.

FREE https://self-compassion.org/category/exercises/ (The 5 minute Self-Compassion Break has been a lifesaver for me. Sometimes, I just step out of the environment I am in and play this meditation on my phone.)

Buddhist

Peace in Every Step This book touched my heart and is such a kind approach to incorporating these practices. I love/hate the smile meditation he talks about.

Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life with the Heart of the Buddha I’m reading this right now because so many people in my UCLA seminar recommended it. I love it.

App

Insight Timer This app feels overwhelming, but I like to scroll through different guided meditations, listen for like 30 seconds, if it feels right, I do the whole meditation. If not, I scroll to the next one. Kirsten Neff and UCLA MARC have their meditations on there. I have also discovered a few people I love by the method I talked about above: Sharon Salzberg, Tara Branch, and Jason McGrice.

“Claiming Time to Be”

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[“Resting in the Purple Snow Jacaranda-2” by John, Flickr]

 

I am the primary caregiver of two young daughters, ages five and seven. My time with them is the best of times, and the worst of times. I experience the most joy and the most pain as I care for them, sometimes almost simultaneously. One moment, I’ll experience such poignant, profound bliss that I feel my heart might burst, and in an instant I can feel completely overwhelmed and utterly spent—not sure how to manage meltdowns or what to make for dinner. The summer months can feel particularly long, where the relentlessness of caregiving weighs most heavily on me.

While reading the Fall 2018 issue of the Exponent II magazine several months ago, I came across a reprinted essay titled “On Balance,” written by Emma Lou Thayne for the magazine in 1991. I was captivated by Thayne’s message from the get-go:

It was late in life to begin. I was forty-seven, had brought five daughters to adolescence, had welcomed a husband home to dinner every night without fail for twenty-two years, had for fifteen years shared our home with a mother who had rooms in a wing of our home where she did not need to be lonely in her aloneness of widowhood. For seventeen years, I had loved having a preschooler. Our extended families included nearly forty on each side, all intriguing and close. I had friends I never got enough of, taught part-time at the university the English I never tired of, served for six years on the General Board of the YWMIA, and worked with projects and people I was captivated by. Once in a while I even got to write.

But I was never alone. And I was busy dying. . . . And I didn’t know why.

After reading this, I knew something in me was dying too. Even with my own part-time work, a supportive partnership with my husband, friends I could always use more time with, contact with family members both near and far, and blogging and volunteering for worthy causes, I too felt a significant imbalance in my life. I read on.

The following year I had back surgery, a fusion to repair an old skiing injury. I was away from everything for the first time in my married life, in the hospital for thirty-one days. I started a journal. . . . On those pages in a wobbly hand, there appeared, as if from invisible ink, explanations of why I was dying and reasons for finding ways not to, either physically on that high hospital bed of pain and turning grey, or emotionally in that wildly full home of love I would be returning to.

I found what I needed and had never had—time to be alone. Even in that hospital, too medicated to read, too hurting to move, it was succulent to lie and think, not to have to be reporting in or doing anything anywhere. . . .

I too had a surgery after many years of motherhood that required me to be on bed rest for several weeks. Despite the excruciating pain of recovery, those weeks convalescing felt like a vacation. With the endless demands of primary caregiving off my plate, I had time for myself—something I had not prioritized enough in my day-to-day life. Emma Lou Thayne’s solution to a similar realization was inspiring and empowering:

During those thirty-one days in the hospital, which meant a release, at my request, from the General Board, I thought, “Why not a Board night for the rest of my life? Only now, one reserved for my own agenda? [A] breather from being central to every day and night in a household of eight.”

So we talked it over, and mostly happily ever after, Wednesday was sacrosanct, Mother’s day and night away. I was to take it as a time to do whatever struck my fancy—in the same way that Mel went to a movie to relax after teaching [his] real estate class for three hours on Thursday nights. Sometimes I worked, sometimes I played, sometimes with others, sometimes alone. Always I came back fully feathered with “OK everyone, Mama’s home—really home—and feeling terrific!”

I realize that not every woman is a mother and that not every woman who is a parent is a primary caregiver. And I am aware of the exhausting “second shift” that mothers who are employed full-time often experience, which can involve a dearth of time for oneself and with one’s children. Some women are full-time caregivers of aging or ill family members. And then there is the economic and relational privilege of having the option to be home with one’s children, of being able to afford child care while being a primary caregiver, and of having a partner who is able and willing to share equitably the emotional and physical labor of nurturing children. I have personal experience with the exhaustion of having a nursing baby who refuses to take a bottle and who has a chronic health condition, whose health is too precarious to leave with anyone for long enough to truly recharge. And I’m aware that children with special needs or disabilities can require a level of care that is difficult to obtain from others.

And yet, no matter the circumstances, I think all women need time for themselves. Time to nurture themselves, whatever that may look like. Time to set aside the “to-do” lists and “shoulds.” Time to indulge in the yearnings of one’s soul. Time to pursue goals, or simply to dream. Time. To. Be.

But there may be seasons in one’s life where time and energy are so limited that adequate me-time may be nearly impossible. So to you, I send strength and a blessing to survive what may feel impossible.

Those for whom me-time could be an option but who can’t afford to pay for outside care, it might mean swapping care with a friend or family member, or passing the caregiving baton to one’s partner or a family member on evenings and/or weekends to help lighten your load.

For those struggling with life circumstances outside of constant caregiving, I understand how difficult taking breaks from the duties of daily living can be at times without those demands. Work, personal struggles, and other commitments can be all-consuming. I spent over a decade of my adult life saturated with concerns about marriage and future children when I had neither, and at times I felt rather hopeless that either would happen for me. Despite having plenty of opportunities for meaningful me-time, it often felt impossible to set aside my preoccupation with my future to cherish myself, despite being engaged in meaningful work and graduate school. But as Emma Lou writes, being present with oneself might be the difference between living and dying, on the inside.

I knew from the beginning that those Wednesdays would be respected only if I respected them, that in addition to being anxiously engaged in good causes, I had to believe that it was right that I should be engaged as well in my own cause. . . . Claiming time to be alone could be the difference between dying from the inside out and being very much alive everywhere.

This summer I’ve scheduled weekly, guilt-free unstructured me-time, and I’m slowly feeling something resurrect inside me. I’m not sure I’ll ever have enough time for myself in this phase of my life, but thanks to Emma Lou Thayne I’m giving myself permission every week to follow my whimsy. It feels revolutionary, and sacred.

What roadblocks—internal and external—prohibit you from setting aside adequate time for yourself?

What would help you prioritize more me-time?

If you do schedule regular me-time, what benefits do you experience from “claiming time to be?”

 

Subscribe to the Exponent II magazine here.

Sacred Music Sunday: Cast Thy Burden upon the Lord

When I was in college, I would often take time to go into the gardens behind the chapel. There was a statue of Jesus with open arms in the center of the garden. Inscribed on one side was “Venite ad me”, the beginning of Matthew 11:28 in Latin. In times of trouble, I would remember Jesus issuing the invitation to come to Him when I was weary and burdened so He could give me rest.

Sometimes I have a hard time casting my burden on the Lord. I can drop my troubles at His feet just fine, but I have a tendency to pick them right back up again when the conversation is finished. And Jesus stands by patiently waiting for me to drop them again so He can help.

I love the hymn Cast Thy Burden upon the Lord because it’s a reminder that there is no shame in letting God take our burdens from us. We don’t have to do it alone.

What comes next?

Since before I was born, my life has been structured by a blueprint I was later taught both implicitly and explicitly. My mother was 19, my dad was 23, a newlywed Mormon couple fulfilling the measure of their creation. In the 9 months between marriage and childbirth, my mom became so sick she had a hard time in classes, and she withdrew from BYU to care for me.

I was first in a long line of pregnancies. My mom ultimately had 8 children and 4 or 5 miscarriages. My youngest sibling was born when I was finishing my first semester of college. My parents made it clear that we were going to grow up and go to BYU, and we all did. My parents said I had to go to BYU. I was not a completely compliant child, but I wasn’t strong enough to defy my parents on something so big. It paid out for them. I became deeply indoctrinated into the traditional Mormon plan while at BYU, just as they intended.

I married right after I turned 20 and immediately surrendered my life to what I understood as “God’s plan” for me. In 15 years, I was pregnant 10 times. I brought my kids to church alone and sat alone each week, while my husband was in the bishopric. I made sure we had family home evening each week. I made sure we read the scriptures every day. I sang my children primary songs and hymns every night. I cut out pictures and activities from the friend magazine and glued them onto cardboard from cereal boxes. And I almost never had time for myself. I had been taught that was selfish and worldly.

I had been miserable and bone weary for over a decade. While I occasionally daydreamed about going back to school or at least getting a part time job, I was too conditioned to consider that an unrighteous goal unless God sanctioned it by telling me it was okay. God didn’t answer my prayers. I asked, is this enough babies yet? But god didn’t answer those prayers either. My husband had served in ‘big’ church callings while being a full time student and part time employee. I cloth diapered and served many varieties of beans and rice to stretch our dimes.

I bought into a really unhealthy understanding of God. I never really felt like God cared about me. I did everything I could to be obedient and earn God’s love, just like my patriarchal blessing told me to do. I did feel God’s love in the love I had for my children and felt obligated to make them into good little Mormons. I mistakenly began using a lot of the same coercive techniques that my parents had used.

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When my youngest was born, I was several years into a faith crisis. The baby’s health issues kept me home from church for several months, something that I had never done before in my life. I was the mom that had missed only one Sunday (or none!) at childbirth. Anyway, when I started trying to attend again I suddenly had a resurgence of panic attacks and horrible anxiety and depression that I hadn’t realized had faded while caring for a very needy baby. I tried for a few more months, but after much struggle and prayer learned my only path to peace would be stepping away from the church of my childhood. It was the only worldview I had ever known, so deconstruction was truly scary and painful. I hadn’t yet learned how to reach out for support, and the few times I tried I was met with judgement and scorn.

It has been almost four years since my youngest was born, and they have been the hardest of my life, yet also the most healing. I have had to completely let go of trying to please my parents and others in my life. I have had to learn to differentiate and to create and maintain healthy boundaries. I have had to learn to listen to my children and try to learn to let them be themselves. I have had to start making decisions and planning out my own life instead of just doing what I was told.

Now I am finally coming to a crossroad, one I have seen afar off and thought and thought over and never understood how to navigate. My youngest child finally potty-trained a few weeks ago. My children are almost all in school. Now I wonder, what comes next? In the past I just did what I thought I was supposed to do, and now I feel like I can give myself permission to choose, but I don’t know what to choose.

The careers that most interest me would take a PhD. I am 40 years old. I don’t have time and money to put into that kind of schooling. But I also don’t want to work a boring menial minimum wage job. After nearly 18 years of childrearing, breastfeeding, diaper changing, cooking, cleaning, teaching children to read, juggling schedules, etc. I find my degree irrelevant and all my skills out of date. What does a woman do?

I am still raising these 8 humans I created. My husband is still teaching middle school. We really could use more money, a lot more! But I don’t have a clue how to contribute. I feel frozen by indecision and trying to juggle too many things. I hate talking about it as ‘going back to work’ because I have been working so hard all along. And ‘going back to school’ sounds interesting, but forebodingly expensive and time consuming to fit into the family’s busy schedule.

I have mixed feelings – on one hand I feel life and opportunity have passed me by. I would love to be traveling and enjoying hobbies, but I barely know how to find out what I like because I have spent so many years absorbed in the needs of others and following the life outline I inherited rather than designing my own. On the other hand, I know 40 is not that old and I can hope to have a lot of good years ahead of me. But I am ill prepared to recognize the best use of those years and to get started!