Exponent II's Blog, page 279

Amazing Grace

You might have seen this video when it came out a couple of years ago, but it’s one that I’ve come back to again and again when I’m looking for uplifting Sabbath music.  I’ve always loved the hymn, “Amazing Grace,” and wish it were included in our Sabbath hymnals.  But I also love the addition of the chorus:

My chains are gone, I’ve been set free

My God, my Savior has ransomed me

And like a flood, His mercy reigns

Unending love, amazing grace.

It’s a message that I don’t think we emphasize enough in Mormonism, so I’m grateful to have it sung so beautifully by women in a BYU acapella group.  And like a flood, His mercy reigns.  Unending love, amazing grace.

Perfect vs. Enough

[image error]

I don’t like to learn new things. I like to be already good at things. I’d rather leave the page blank than write the wrong thing.

Unfortunately, moving to a new, not majority-English speaking country, kind of requires me to figure out the language. A little less unfortunately, being engaged has meant that I need to communicate new things, and in new ways.

I knew I’d need to enrol in classes to bring my German up to the standard universities require, so I started doing daily practice. Nothing very intense, just through Duolingo and Lingvist, but I learned to enjoy the feeling of my brain stretching. I changed the story I was telling myself from “success means not failing at stuff” to “success means getting consecutive days of practice ticked off”.

That really helped, but when it came time to enrol, I was still intimidated by the placement tests. I took two online, the first of which didn’t give me access to my results, but claimed I was at the third level. The second online test I took showed me how many I got wrong, and I went and had a cry to my fiancé (who reminded me that it’s okay to not already be perfect), and felt like I’d done very poorly, but ultimately also came back with the same recommendation. Because of that, when I went to do a placement test for the local in-person class, I was feeling much more sure of myself, and was calm while I finished as much as I could of the test.

It was more difficult, fill-in-the-gaps style, with a strong focus on grammar, rather than the multiple choice types I’d completed online. They also wanted a paragraph or so introducing myself and why I’m studying German.

When I brought the test back to the receptionist, he asked if I could finish any of the early questions I’d skipped, and said they couldn’t put me past the first module unless I answered all of those. It was very confronting, to be told that the daily practice didn’t really count for much, because it didn’t cover what they test for.

In the end, I found peace about their judgement (partly because the consultant complimented my vocabulary, and explained that their classes are very grammar focussed and build on each other – it makes sense for me to begin at the beginning of something I hadn’t studied with purpose), but it showed me that I still have pretty far before I’ve truly let go of my perfectionism. How funny that it’s something I want to be good at without really learning and failing at first.

It also showed me compassion for people at church, who don’t want to come unstuck by questioning their assumptions about what makes someone a Good Person. If we can be Good by not smoking or drinking, by always covering our garments (and not even being frumpy!), by never being alone with someone of the opposite sex, by paying an honest tithe — if we can tick all the boxes, we can be sure of ourselves, that we’re Good enough to be accepted into heaven.

I totally get it. I have such a long way to go to let go of my perfectionism. But I’m a happier person when I allow myself to fail, and I’m a better disciple of Christ when I turn to Him from a place of humility and openness. I’m going to be wrong so often, but that’s okay. Being a Good Person isn’t what gives me value. The worth of my soul is already great in the sight of the Lord. However much I fail, however often I lose sight of God or myself, however deeply I try to avoid the pain that comes from loving others. I am loved, and Jesus is with me. I am already, and always, enough. And, as my fiancé reminds me pretty often: it’s all gonna be okay.

Family Back-to-school Blessings

[image error]

photo courtesy of ordain women.org

A few weeks ago, as the first day of school approached for my first first-grader, who was going to school for the first time, my husband turned to me one evening and said, “It’s not uncommon in our faith tradition for children to have a blessing before starting the new school year. Should we do that?”

“We should if we do it together.” I replied.

“Well, of course.” he responded. “How should we do it?”

“Let’s tag team. One person starts, the other person adds on, then we end it together.”

We’ve each blessed our children throughout their lives — as babies and toddlers, when they couldn’t sleep, or been sick, or felt afraid, or felt unhappy — but this was the first time we were blessing the same child together at the same time, each with our own unique words.

 

On the evening before school began, we approached our child and asked, “Would you like a special prayer blessing from Mama and Daddy before you start school tomorrow?” After hearing us describe what we were planning to do, he decided he did want it.  We all sat together on our big bed, with my son on my lap, and our pre-schooler and toddler bouncing on the pillows nearby.

My husband and I both put our hands together on our child’s head. Not knowing quite what language would feel the most comfortable, I began the blessing like a prayer to God, referring to my child in the third person as I petitioned God for all the wishes in my mother-heart for my child as he was about to do something new and brave. I prayed for him to be an includer, to have a calm mind for learning, to be creative, to be confident in trying to new things, to give people lots of chances to be his friend, to be kind and show empathy to others. When I had exhausted my list of hopes and wishes for him, I nodded to my husband and he continued with his blessing.  He shifted the language to the first person and addressed his blessing directly to our child.  In that moment, I felt a slight embarrassment in my unfamiliarity with blessing language — I had wanted to address my child directly but didn’t know quite how to start it. Did I have to call him by name and state some sort of authority? I’m his mother who loves him, did I need any more authority to bless and wish goodness on his life than that?

In my mind, a battle ensued: Was it a “Priesthood” blessing because my husband and I hold the Priesthood together, because we were sealed in the temple together? Was is not a “Priesthood” blessing at all, because I have no Priesthood ordination? Did that make it more or less efficacious if so? Did authority need to be stated at all, or could we both just say our blessings from our hearts and God would see our righteous intent as loving parents?

I agree with one of my favorite podcast hosts, Vanessa Zoltan, when she says,

“What I love about blessings is that… I feel like when you bless something you are tapping into your most vulnerable wish for someone and I just think that when you bless something you are admitting you have no power over something but you are hoping with every fiber of your being.”

Just as I was coming to the conclusion that a beautiful blessing from parents to their child needs no categorization or qualifiers, my two younger children quietly and eagerly added their hands to the pile on top of their brother’s head and left them there until the blessing was finished. They all giggled in delight afterward.  The children all said, “me next! me next!” and the next child climbed onto my lap with a smile. My blessing language came much easier the second time, and our two pairs of adult hands were again joined by two pairs of children’s hands.  “Me next, me next!” came the third call, and all of our children were blessed by both parents, with siblings participating with their hands and intent. I believe these three children were blessed by a quartet of parents this night, that the deepest wishes spoken by their earthly parents were in accord with the wishes and blessings from their Heavenly Parents.

Realizing that we weren’t finished for the night, my astute 6-year old declared, “Now Mama blesses Daddy, and Daddy blesses Mama!”  It was obvious to him that everyone should have a blessing that night, and we can all bless each other, of course!  My thoughts went momentarily to the story of Emma Smith wanting a blessing and Joseph telling her to write out her own blessing and that he would sign it. Why not bless everyone around you, and yourself while at it! God is good and generous!

I looked at my husband quizzically. I had never blessed him before.  It was a rare and precious gift to reach deep into my heart and pull out wishes and blessings for my husband, with four sets of hands on his head. In the blessing language, my expressed desires for him to manage his time successfully to allow for work, family, and his own personal creative endeavors didn’t feel like nagging or advice, just what a wife wishes for her husband to be happy and fulfilled.

He in turn gave a blessing to me (with 3 assistants) and mentioned things like: how important it is for me to take time to be involved in good causes outside our family, for clarity in how to improve my business, and words of gratitude for my patience in motherhood.  It was nice to hear what was on his mind and heart for me, too.

When we were all finished, a calm cheerfulness rested in the room.  It felt like a family co-operative; nobody was there on business, nobody cited authority over anyone else. The language was familiar and child-friendly,  and not formulaic or administrative.  In the end, we really all did bless each other, and the peaceful unity in our family that night felt warm and kind.

I think Family Back-to-School Blessings will be a tradition every year.

 

 

Support for our Sisters at FemWoc & FMH

It’s important to amplify this message of support for our sisters at FemWoc

Written as an editorial from our pals at FMH, it expresses the inherent problems of white male artists using the figure of a nude black woman for their financial gain.  Please read.

 

http://www.feministmormonhousewives.org/2017/09/standing-with-african-american-mormon-women/

 

Persisters in Zion/Daughters of Exponent: a Medley

[image error]

 

Every year at the Exponent retreat I find myself belting it out at the talent show.  Which is hilarious because I am no singer. But I have a strange gift that I trot out annually: I’m sort of a Mormon housewife version of Weird Al. Taking hymns and substituting wacky lyrics for reverent ones gives me deep, deep joy. Past songs have included “Come ye Husbands of the Ward” and “The Modesty Song.”  This year Liz inspired me to take the oft sung YW/YM medley, “Sisters in Zion” and “Army of Helaman,” and give it a political twist.  For dramatic effect, the Red Hot Mamas sang it through all the way, then divided and blended verses 3 and 4, singing the final chorus together. Of course there were props. There are always props. Be inspired to come up with your own.

As Persisters in Zion we’ll stand up to douche bags,

We’ll try to build bridges instead of huge walls.

And those who insist upon grabbing our kitties

Will find out that bravery does not come from balls.

 

Persisters in Zion are women of action–

Calling out haters and shouting the truth.

Let’s not hang with Nazis; let’s fight for the Dreamers

And show off our power in the voting booth!

 

We have been shown, like our mother Eve

To stand up boldly for what we believe.

We have been taught by first lady Michelle

That we should go high while they go to hell!

 

Oh we are here as daughters of Exponent.

Enlarging the circle of love.

And we will try to make this a safe place

To honor our Mother above.

 

 

 

 

Trump and His Anti-Family Policies: Hurting Mormon Families

Guest post by Chocolate Chip Biscuit

 

The latest news with Trump’s move to eliminate DACA is yet another step in Trump solidifying his anti-family policy position. Unfortunately, I am well familiar with his anti-family policy changes—because it has hurt my family. DACA hasn’t hut me, but it has hurt people you know. Another kind of his anti-family policies has hurt me. The one where the US won’t allow the spouse of an American any rights.

 

To be clear, I am an American, born and raised. I prefer Ranch dressing, peanut butter sandwiches, and soft chocolate chip cookies.  My husband is Australian. He prefers no salad dressing, Vegemite sandwiches and biscuits as hard as rocks. Our children have preferences that reflect both cultures, and we are happy. We chose to live in Australia for a time as my husband had good employment and we wanted for me to be able to stay home with our children. Ya know. The Mormon thing.

 

As our children became school-aged, we decided that we would visit the US, re-connect with the American side of our family and delight in partaking of Idaho potatoes flooded with American cheese. Still employed but on leave of absence, my husband and I also planned to investigate schools and neighbourhoods with a mind that if all fit well for us, we would go about the process of moving to the US.

 

Even though he is my spouse and we have been married more than a handful of years, he still has to go about the migration process the same as any non-American. We had been through this before—first for me, when I migrated to Australia, and secondly for him, on the advice of an attorney as we were in the process of adopting, in case it made us look better on adoption papers. At that time, my husband was granted a 2-year residency visa (“green card”) which took the standard 8-12 month processing time and at a real financial cost. However, we did not need or use that visa. We’re Mormon– we looked good on paper anyway. So his American visa expired as an unused by-product.

 

We planned for a temporary visit to Utah this summer, meaning a tourist (ESTA) visa- the kind of visa that takes very little processing time, costs very little and is often an instantaneous turnaround when you travel on vacation to different countries. We were well aware that this kind of visa meant that my Australian husband would not be able to legally stay longer than three months. Thus, all of us—not just my husband– had tickets to return to Australia. The plan was to discover if Utah was a good fit for our family. If it was, then we would invest the time and money for a more permanent visa.

 

That was the plan. But the US would not let him enter. He was issued an ESTA visa  when we purchased our tickets. But it was revoked without notice a few days before we were to leave. We discovered it had been revoked at the airport as we were checking in our bags. Nothing had changed on our side; he had still never been convicted of any crimes, he has never overstayed or broken the conditions of a tourist visa previously, we had return flights, and ongoing employment in Australia. We’re Mormons, for heaven’s sake!

 

 

[image error]And yet, he was considered untrustworthy. Why? Me. His wife. His eternal companion, signed and sealed at the St. George Temple in Utah. And our daughters. As Americans, my daughters and I make him look bad. Because he had a legal, permanent visa beforehand, he can no longer enter the US on vacation. I make it look like he is going to break laws to stay with me in the US rather than going through the proper process. My marriage and our family look like security threats to Trump’s immigration policies. My American nationality hurts my husband’s non-American visa application.

 

We thought it was a mistake. Perhaps something simple that we or the travel agent filled out wrong. A miscommunication. An unticked box. A spelling error. So, I went ahead with my children, thinking that my husband would be on a plane the day after. But I was wrong. Very wrong. We fall into a new category of “presumptive visa violators.” This is a new Trump thing wherein he is presumed guilty and must prove his innocence. You see, he can’t be offered American privileges such as “innocent before being proven guilty” unless he is in the United States. Outside of the US, US policy doesn’t have to represent American values: so it doesn’t, especially under Mr. Trump.

 

While I was in the air managing my children on a long flight alone, my husband spent the majority of the day trying to track down what went wrong. He went to the US Consulate in Sydney, who told him to apply, then re-apply on the website, because they could not help him. But according to the website, he had done everything correctly. We discovered that while the State Department (SD) processes most visa applications, the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) takes the lead on implementing laws. However, the DHS is not a foreign affairs agency of the US Government, so communication between the SD, DHS and the US Consulate is bound by the red tape of each others’ bylaws, which are sometimes in conflict—or in the case of DHS- is not a foreign affairs agency.

 

After exhaustive days and nights of applications and knocking on every immigration door available, he did not make the next flight, or the one after, or the one after that.

 

He waded through paperwork, confused as to why he could not obtain a visa, I contacted US-based immigration lawyers who simply said that he should apply for a green card. “But, he’s not going to work,” I would say, incredulously. “We are going to family reunions. We’re on vacation!” I was told that didn’t matter—that because of our marriage, he was considered presumptively guilty of overstaying a temporary visitor’s visa unless he could prove he did not plan on breaking immigration law in the future. It sounded ridiculous to us, but this was Trump policy: guilty until proven innocent. The confusion of the situation and the associated contrasting advice between the consulate and immigration was overwhelming. I hasten to add that we are university-educated, native English-speakers. I cannot fathom how difficult this would be for those who lack education, or worse, have a lesser command of American English.

 

Almost immediately upon my arrival in Utah, I was clandestinely contacted by other Americans in situations similar to my own. Families of mixed nationality, some part-Australian, some not. All part-American. Law-abiding, legally employed Americans who simply fell in love with someone of a different nationality. I did not meet their non-American spouses, but they all had similar stories: many were returned Mormon missionaries with clean records, all law-abiding individuals without a sniff of criminality in their background or future, yet they were refused entry to the US. I met the children who had not seen their non-American parents for months—the months since Trump had been in office. Wives who refused to post family updates on Facebook because they had been told that DHS agents could claim they were coded messages for illegal immigration. Husbands who refused to email or text wives because they had been told ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) agents would intercept them and manipulate the meaning into something that would harm visa applications. Americans living in the US, afraid to say anything because “Uncle Sam’s Big Brother” was watching them and would hurt their family.

 

This is not the America I know. This is not the America I love. To be fair, I lost count of the number of the American friends and strangers who embraced me and my children when our family was attacked by Mr. Trump. One friend loaned us a car. Others brought food, provided childcare, and even an inspired stranger paid for our tickets to the Heritage Village at the This is the Place Heritage Park. It was there at the Heritage Village Museum that my children had so much fun that we all forgot for a moment that our family was targeted by these new and confusing American policies. We supped on Brigham Young’s doughnuts, mined for sparkling stones, and felt at one with the Pioneers who were also forced to leave the US and create a home elsewhere because of political bias.

 

Gratefully, God’s hand reached out and protected us through friends and strangers. They cried with us, and as they did they said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This policy is not American. I’m so sorry.”

 

[image error]

My daughters and I secured early returns to Australia. We decided that though Utah is a kind of home, living in the US was off the table: we did not want to risk being months or possibly even permanently separated while we waited and hoped for a visa that may or not be granted. But this is what it is like for ex-pat and mixed nationality families. There are narrow formulas and guidelines that define what a family is supposed to look like to the SD, DHS, ICE and immigration. When your family looks different- because of ethnicity, employment (or lack of employment), language, and even adoption, then your family has a target on its back.

 

And you know what? We still had it easy. Shock, emotional roller-coaster and sense of patriotic betrayal aside, we still had it easy compared to others. Our skin colour, Anglo-ethnicity, cultural background or religious affiliation did not class us in ways to cause outward bias and rejection. My husband had a job, our non-American home is not a war zone and our fellow church members of various political viewpoints welcomed us to return to and recover.

 

While we were in the US, I watched ICE raids on the news with fresh eyes—I saw the families separated, hearts broken, and injustices heaped upon children, marriages and families. Conservative friends offered letters of recommendation, thinking something so daft as a letter from a Trump voter could suddenly heal or change Trump’s anti-family policies. Some looked at me with questioning eyes, seeming to think we had some illegal skeletons in our closet. But we don’t. My husband doesn’t. His only fault is being married to an American.

Exponent II Writing Contest 2018

For this year’s writing contest, Exponent II wants to honor the women who have provided us with examples, advice, and experience. We are asking for submissions about spiritual foremothers.[image error]

Who is your spiritual foremother and how did she impact your life? You may choose a relative, a fictional character from literature, historical figure, a woman from scripture, a teacher, a friend, or a mentor. What guidance did she give you? How did she impact the decisions you made in your life? How do you see her reflected in who you have become?

We are[image error] not looking for sentimental tributes, but rather an awareness of how the women who have gone before us have influenced and shaped us. We hope to get a sense of the complexity of our foremothers and how connections to them last through time. Be specific in how your foremother impacted your character or decisions. The winner of the contest will give us a vivid picture of her foremother and develop readers’ interest in the relationship.

 

The winner of the contest will receive a one-week stay at

[image error]Anam Cara, the writers’ retreat in Ireland owned and operated by former Exponent II editor Sue Booth Forbes. More information about Anam Cara can be found at www.anamcararetreat.com.

Submissions must be between 700 – 2000 words and are due November 1, 2017. Exponent II only publishes work by women. Send submissions to exponentiieditor@gmail.com.

 

 

[image error]

 

September Young Women Lesson: Why do we fast?

[image error]

FOREWORD: There are some things to be aware of when teaching a lesson on fasting (especially with young women). Many LDS youth are growing up in societies that idolize female thinness and put an immense amount of pressure on women to obsess over and meticulously monitor and perfect their appearance, and it’s not a secret that Mormon culture (at least in some parts of the world) often adds to rather than works against this.  With this context, and because the word “fasting” can be used to describe both a religious ritual and a fad diet (that’s especially big right now), I think there’s a very real danger in these kinds of discussions of equating self-inflicted hunger with holiness—sending the message that food as a general rule is something that dulls or diminishes a connection with God, and that our worthiness (especially as women) hinges on our ability to exercise extreme control over (rather than be mindful of and kind to) our bodies. Studies show, too, that while religious fasting can improve body image for people with low levels of “eating distress,” religious fasting can also  “exacerbate or disguise eating disorder behaviors” and work as “a trigger for those at risk for or in the process of developing an eating disorder.” Please allow all of this to inform what you do and do not say in this lesson.

Beginning: What is the purpose of fasting ?

Start by posing the first question, the last two, or all three:

“What is the purpose of fasting? What are some good motivations to fast? What shouldn’t be our motivation to fast?”

Have them read the following scriptures to answer the question(s):

Alma 17:2-3 (fasting to increase ability to prophecy and receive revelation)
Esther 4:10-17 (fasting as a way to come together as a community in solidarity towards a higher goal; to call down increased divine help)
Isaiah 58:3-12 (fast with the purpose of more deliberately “approaching… God,” that we might gain greater clarity and strength to rid ourselves of ungodliness [“loose the bands of wickedness”] and to be more aware of and offer greater help those in need [“undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed go free… to deal thy bread to the hungry… and bring the poor that are cast out to thy house.”].
Alma 6:6 (fasting along with “mighty prayer” in behalf of others)
Helamen 3:35 (fasting to reacquaint ourselves with our values, recenter our lives around Christ, and make a more dedicated and concerted effort to make space for stillness and for the Spirit to dwell within us)

Fasting in other faith traditions

Ask the young women, “Are Mormons the only religion that encourages its members to fast?” (They’ll almost certainly say no). ,

Ask them for examples of religions that include fasting in their spiritual practices and what they know about the rules and traditions around fasting in these traditions (they will likely know some things about Muslims with Ramadan, Catholics with Lent, etc.).  If it were me, I’d add a bit to what they already know and also throw in a few fast facts (pun intended) about how fasting is approached in traditions like the Baha’i faith, Hinduism, Judaism, and/or Protestant religions like Lutheranism. (If you are going to use the links I’ve provided to do this, maybe give a “this is from Wikipedia” disclaimer.) This shouldn’t take up a huge chunk of time.

Please note: only include this section if you can model talking about the beliefs and practices of other faiths with sincere respect and if you are willing to respond constructively to any disparaging comments that might be made about other faiths (I’ve never had a young woman say something unkind or inappropriate in these kinds of discussions, but I’m sure it can happen). The point here is not to mock or condemn different ways of fasting or to somehow prove that Mormonism’s way is “best.” Rather, the goal here is simply to remind the youth that Mormonism doesn’t exist in a vacuum; that people from all over the world (and not just other Christians) fast for many of the same reasons we do. The fact that Mormonism shares many values and practices with faith traditions from around the world (and not just other Christians) is an eye-opening, heart-softening, and connective thing to remind the youth of every so often.

When there needs to be an alternative to going without food

Ask the class, “Are there times when people should fast in ways that don’t include giving up food? What are some situations when fasting by giving up food and/or water might not be best?”

Possible answers:

When pregnant (not good for the baby) or breastfeeding (can lower milk supply)
When experiencing a health condition where fasting wouldn’t be safe (e.g., many doctors recommend that diabetics not fast)
When we are too young or not fully able to make the decision about whether or not we want to fast by giving up food
When someone has or is recovering from an eating disorder or experiences lots of anxiety around eating and/or body image (if this one isn’t mentioned, bring it up yourself. When I taught this lesson today, I went over most of the things I included in this lesson’s foreword.)

Share this quote by President Joseph F. Smith:

“Many are subject to weakness, others are delicate in health, and others have nursing babies; of such it should not be required to fast. Neither should parents compel their little children to fast… Better to teach them the principle, and let them observe It when they are old enough to choose intelligently” (Gospel Doctrine, p. 244).

(I recommend emphasizing the part that says we ought to choose for ourselves whether/how to fast and remind them that it’s none of our business how/whether others do.)

Quickly review the purposes of religious fasting, and then ask them what some alternatives might be for those who shouldn’t fast by giving up food.

Possible answers:

-Temporarily remove distractions like gaming and social media apps from your device and instead using your phone to listen to more inspirational music, spend more time reading scriptures or other uplifting poems or prose, etc.
-Spend the time making a concerted effort to be aware of and ask for strength to overcome bad habits (e.g., making unkind mental judgments about people, not practicing good listening skills with family members, etc.)

Important Elements of a Proper Fast

Prayer

While not eating doesn’t necessarily need to be part of a proper fast, there are important elements that need to be present in our fast in order to take advantage of the purpose of fasting.

Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin taught, “Without prayer, fasting is not complete fasting… If we want our fasting to be more than just going without eating, we must lift our hearts, our minds, and our voices in communion with our Heavenly Father. Fasting, coupled with mighty prayer, is powerful. It can fill our minds with the revelations of the Spirit. It can strengthen us against times of temptation.”

Ask, “Why do you think prayer is such an important part of fasting?”

Providing temporal help for those in need

Elder L. Tom Perry taught that of all the purposes of fasting, the first is that “it provides assistance to the needy through the contribution of fast offerings, consisting of the value of meals from which we abstain.”

What do fast offerings in our church go towards?

Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin taught, “Fast offerings are used for one purpose only: to bless the lives of those in need. Every dollar given to the bishop as a fast offering goes to assist the poor” (April 2001 General Conference).
Elder Eyring taught, “Part of your fast offering and mine this month will be used to help someone, somewhere, whose relief the Lord will feel as if it were His own” (April 2015 General Conference).

Remind them that while they probably don’t pay fast offerings right now as teens, Isaiah taught that fasting with the intent to serve others is an important part of fasting: to “undo the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed go free… to deal thy bread to the hungry… and bring the poor that are cast out to thy house” (quoting Isaiah 58 again).

When we fast for something that doesn’t “come true”

When I taught this lesson yesterday, one of my young women made a comment that led me to add this section to my lesson. With what seemed to be some disappointment and confusion, she remarked that she knows that God “is supposed to hear us better when we fast” (rather than just pray), but that she has fasted for things that haven’t “come true.” Responding to this kind of observation obviously isn’t comfortable, but I think it’s an important topic to start to address more honestly and openly with the youth.

If you need to introduce the topic, I would start with a question with an obvious answer, like “When we fast for something specific, like a loved one’s return to health, is there a guarantee attached that everything we ask for will happen?” (They’ll almost certainly say no.)
At this point, I’m hesitant to give a one-size-fits-all recommendation for how to proceed, so I’ll just summarize what my response was today to the young woman in my class; take it for what it’s worth.
First, I tried to validate her concerns. I told her that I’ve also said lots of prayers and participated in many fasts where I asked God for something that didn’t “come true.” That it can be tough to realize as we get older that prayer isn’t as clear-cut as we may have believed it to be as kids (and that realizing this isn’t good or bad—just a sign that we’re growing up.)
I also assured her that unanswered prayers don’t mean that we didn’t pray or fast “right,” that what we wanted was evil, that we weren’t being faithful or “good” enough at the time to receive the answer we wanted, or that God doesn’t hear us. I told her that there’s a lot I don’t know or understand about prayer and God and how God hears and works with us, but that I don’t think a loving God would be more willing to give guidance and support to those who fast than he is to those who have just prayed for something, just like he isn’t somehow more willing to hear prayers that use “thee” and “thine” than he is to hear prayers that use everyday language, etc. I told her that I think that fasting is more for us—an opportunity for us to make a more dedicated and concerted effort to make space for prayer, sincere reflection, and Grace to enter our hearts; to feel gratitude for all of the good in our lives and to turn our attention to the needs of others and how we can be more aware of, kind to, and helpful towards other people.

I haven’t had enough time or mental energy to reflect much on how I could have improved that response (although I think responding with more questions rather than just straight talking at them would have been good), but there it is.

Conclusion: End by briefly bearing testimony of a principle you taught that is especially meaningful to you, giving them a few minutes to think about and make plan to make fasting more personally meaningful for them in the future, and/or expressing your love for and confidence in them.

Youth, Bishop’s Interviews, and Self-Exploration: Shepherding Our Youth to a Healthy Sexuality

by Anonymous

My oldest child is less than one year away from going into Young Men’s. I’m concerned about the interviews with the bishop that will be forthcoming.

My worry is that the bishop will ask him about masturbation. I don’t know if my son has done it or if he will be doing it in his teen years, but I lean towards viewing the practice as a natural part of human development. Not that I want him to be doing it five times a day. And I definitely don’t want him looking at porn. But my intuition is that it’s normal and not unhealthy for a teen to have some sense of how his/her body works sexually.

I recently learned from LDS therapist Dr. Jennifer Finlayson-Fife, in fact, that girls who self-explored and understood how arousal happened – and who viewed their sexuality as their own and not their future husband’s – were more likely to have healthier and happier sex lives once they were married. As she says, what we want to do as parents is to shepherd our kids into having healthy, committed, loving partnerships someday. Things that are likely to not lead to that – like porn use – should be discouraged. Also discouraged should be messages that associate sexuality with dirtiness, shame, badness, etc., since people who have internalized those messages often have a difficult time embracing their sexuality in marriage.

I’m not sure if self-exploration among adolescent boys is correlated with a future healthy partnered sex life, but I think some curiosity and self-exploration is fine, and I hate the idea of my child being eaten up by feelings of guilt or shame because of it. I also am deeply uncomfortable with the idea that my child might feel he has to have a humiliating talk about something so personal and so private with a man who is virtually a stranger. The whole setup raises red flags for me.

So I’m in the midst of mapping out strategies for how to deal with this situation when the time comes. I’m thinking this will be my plan of attack:

Talk to the bishop privately and ask him about his interview practices. What wording does he use when he asks about the law of chastity? Does he ask youth about masturbation? If so, I will ask him to not ask my son about that. If the bishop insists on asking that question, I’ll suggest that my son tell him, “My mom has told me that I do not need to discuss that with you.”
Talk to my son and tell him that I believe the law of chastity to be referring to two people engaging in sexual acts – not self-exploration.
Talk to my son about how he feels doing these interviews. Does he want to be interviewed? Would he like a parent to be there? I’m happy to accompany him – and happy to talk to the bishop beforehand about what exactly he’ll be asking so he’ll go in knowing what to expect.
With my daughter, I plan to be in the room during interviews. It’s uncomfortable to think of stranger men talking to my son about chastity stuff, but even more red flags come up for me when I think of my teenage daughter being exposed to questions about sex from a forty-year-old man behind a closed door.

I’m hoping these precautions will help protect my kids from unnecessary guilt and intrusion into their personal lives. To be clear, I’m pretty confident that our bishop is an upstanding and non-creepy guy. But the very setup, which I know in times past has involved direct questions about masturbation, seems very problematic. I’d like my children to learn in their youth that there are boundaries they should feel free to draw with their church leaders — and that there are issues that they should determine the morality of for themselves.

What have been your experiences with this issue? Are you concerned about bishops talking to youth about this? Why or why not?

Don’t Tell Me I Don’t Understand the Priesthood

Sad Clown Girl by Cris Motta

Last week’s lesson in Relief Society was on the Priesthood — always a real favorite for an all-women organization.  I was already struggling because Phred had gotten a head start on what is turning into a multi-day “I won’t nap but I WILL fuss and scream” binge.  So by the third hour of church I was feeling pretty done.  But I wanted to give it a fair shake, and interact with adults.

The teacher opened the lesson by sharing that she had had many friends in the “Ordain Women” movement and that she had struggled with many questions and difficulties relating to the priesthood — I appreciated this vulnerability.  She said that her answer was that in time when she went to the temple those questions would be resolved, and they were.  I’m afraid that if I say “I’m happy for her” it’ll sound petulant and insincere.  But I’ve also had a total of 15 minutes this entire day not engaged in child care of a fairly draining nature so crossness is where I am, with no reflection on the poor teacher.  She then invited the class to share experiences or feelings relating to the priesthood, and many did so.  Again, I appreciate this approach to teaching that allows for many people to offer their own opinions.

The thing is, there seems to be only one approved opinion.  This is no surprise to me of course, I’ve been LDS my whole life and I’m nothing if not aware of the party line. I thought about sharing my point of view.  I even raised my hand.  But after hearing comment after comment that slowly wore me down when I’m already exhausted and frail I just didn’t have it in me to be the only one saying what I have to say.  I looked around the room and thought, “I don’t think anyone in this room wants to hear this, and I don’t feel strong enough to say it.”  So I took the excuse of my fussy cross baby and quietly walked out.  Perhaps I missed a lesson that really would have met my needs.  But sitting on the lawn with my baby felt like the safer choice.  However, I keep stewing and unless I write I won’t be able to siphon off the feelings of anger.

Here is what I perceived to be the gist of the comments and the perspective of my sisters:  The priesthood is wonderful (many examples of blessings etc.).  Women (“educated” women singled out) who want the priesthood or have a problem with male-only ordination don’t understand. The truth is that men and women both hold the priesthood.  Or maybe it’s that both men and women have to ask another man if they want a blessing, men don’t bless themselves, so really it’s the same for men and women.  Having a man who holds the priesthood in the home, even if he is a 12-year-old boy, is wonderful and important.

Here’s my deal.  I’m educated, and male-only ordination causes me pain, and I’m not ignorant or unable to understand or unfamiliar with the Temple.  The Temple brings peace on this issue to a lot of women.  It makes things worse for me.  My feelings and experience with this are valid and are not a product of my inability to understand truth.

I have been through hell bringing my children to earth.  I have paid a terribly high price in physical hardship and suffering.  My mental and emotional health are in tatters and it’s getting worse, not better.  I walked this horrible road largely alone because nobody could carry any of this burden for me.  And I am not allowed to give my child a name and a blessing.  I’m not even allowed to stand in the circle, to hold my baby while my husband blesses him in front of our congregation.  When Pip was blessed, the Bishop, though not invited to join the circle as a particular friend, just did so as a matter of course.  He could casually get up and elbow in, but I sat back on our pew.  The only way I was able to cope with this awful exclusion with Pip was to tell myself that I simply do not care about baby blessings.  Indifference became the defense mechanism I needed in order to face the fact that the church sees priesthood and motherhood as equivalent.  I tearfully told Chris on the way home from church that I’d be very glad to swap — he can vomit and vomit and vomit and then be up all night while a child gnaws on his nipples.  I’ll do the snuggling and naming and blessing part if they’re so interchangeable and equivalent.

I will do the lion’s share of rearing my sons in the Gospel.  I say the most prayers with them.  I am the one reading scripture stories and explaining about Jesus.  I’m the one singing primary songs and teaching them to our sons.  This is not an aspersion on my husband, nor is it an avowal of my “role” — I am home.  This ends up being something I’m doing more.  But I will not be allowed to baptize my sons.  I won’t be allowed to give the Gift of the Holy Ghost.  But it goes further — I’m not allowed to be a witness.  I’m not allowed to stand in the circle.  I’m not even allowed to conduct the meeting.

And so it will go on and on and on.  At no point in my son’s lives will I have any relevant role in any ordinance.  If I had daughters I could possibly help them in the Temple.  But as a mother of sons I will not be allowed to sit by them, or talk to them, or instruct them in any way.  I will not sit at my husband’s side, co-witness of the wedding.

To me it seems of a piece with pregnancy — I’m good enough to do all the endless heartbreaking soul-crushing work of preparing the way, but at every crowning moment and milestone I am to sit invisible and silent on the sidelines.

It feels really fantastic.

So don’t tell me that I don’t understand, or that men and women share the same access to the privileges of the priesthood, or if I just thought about ordinances I’d feel a lot better.  I understand all too well.  My access is not equal.  And thinking about ordinances makes me feel really, really, really sad.