A Process of Change

There are a few things on my mind I want to share.

1) The process I went through to come to a place where I felt peace in living authentically, in choosing to date and ultimately marry the one I love. That process isn't clearly outlined in this blog. It seems I went from stalwart, faithful member, to choosing to throw that all away in an instant. It didn't happen quite like that.

2) How I've come to find peace outside the confines of a religion that defined all I was for 40+ years.

3) Where I am now, and the continuing lessons and learning I see before me.

This is all too much for one blog post. And probably too much for my soul and emotions to process in one sitting. So I will just do what I can over the next few days to work through these points.

So, the first thing on my mind:

If you have read through my blog, I hope there is no doubt about how deep and real my faith and testimony in the LDS Church was, and especially in the Lord. Everything I did, said, thought, reflected on was colored by the lens of the LDS Church and its teaching. And I loved that. I found hope and peace and comfort in that. Even as I worked through the conflicting challenges of being gay and Mormon, I sought the clarity, answers, hope and peace by living as I believed I should. As, in fact, I KNEW I should - according to the gospel standards.

And I did find a measure of peace in living that way. There was peace in living exactly as I believed the Savior wanted me to, even if the result of those actions didn't always bring hope or peace. If that makes any sense.

So my life became a roller coaster. Hope and peace as I recommitted to living with faith. Followed by the underlying hopelessness coming back to the surface - no hope in ever not being gay. No hope of falling in love with a man. Not allowed to fall in love with a woman. Followed by pulling myself out of that pit and recommitting to living faithfully, and finding hope and peace in my life from obedience. Then finding myself in despair and hopelessness again. And on and on. 

However crazy that roller coaster of life was, I couldn't see any other path. Staying in the church, with all the rights, blessings and privileges that came with it was my only path. It was, in my mind, my only option. I just had to white knuckle it through. Had to keep choosing obedience as I knew it. Had to endure to the end. 

Then, one day, something shifted inside. I found myself faced with the decision to choose solitude and celibacy, or choose to pursue a relationship, no strings attached. Ultimately it came down to what I believed would help me find the most lasting peace. What would fill me with the desire to continue on in life. What would bring me the most hope. The Lord and I had a very long conversation. In the end, I felt assurance, comfort and peace from Him in letting go of my own expectations for myself, and living a life that would bring me intimate human connection, regardless of where that path would take me in relation to the Church. Though I knew, without a doubt where it would take me, I trusted what I felt from the spirit that night and many subsequent nights. I knew I would loose my calling, my temple recommend, and probably also my membership. Yet, I still felt peace and assurance in that decision. 

It was confusing to me. I wasn't sure how to have a close relationship with the Savior outside the confines of what I had always known. But I trusted in His process for my life. I committed to Him that I would keep Him close through it all.

I didn't leave the Church at that point. I continued to attend, because it was still my connection to the Lord and His gospel. However, as I pursued my relationship with  my now wife, I felt less and less connected there. Less and less welcomed there. I began seeing and feeling more and more of the subtle and outright rejection of who I was by the Church and too many of its members. It wasn't that I was losing my testimony of the Savior and His gospel, it was that I was beginning to feel, more and more, damaged by the policies and practices of the Church. 

By the time I was excommunicated (for getting married), I was almost done trying to attend. Which, after a few weeks, I did. The quiet rejection was almost worse than the outright exclamations of how my life was an abomination, and apostate. Members of the church who were once so open and friendly, suddenly stepped back. Stopped talking to me. Or if they did talk to me, it was with a forced, "its what is expected of me" kind of feeling. Like I had suddenly ceased to be their friend, and was now their project. It was their duty to reach out to me, and help me feel welcome. But that kind of "reaching out" feels anything like a welcome. And it was obvious and painful. 

So I stopped attending, physically. But emotionally, I felt a deep loss. I longed for a faith community. I longed to be a part of a gospel congregation. To find acceptance and love. And to learn of the Savior with other like-minded people. So I sought out other churches. And enjoyed attending them. Enjoyed the love and acceptance I was shown, without reservation. I felt genuinely accepted and wanted.  And the discussions were all about the Savior. I never felt worried about what I might hear over the pulpit. 

But I do feel overarching peace, and hope, and joy. I am content in where I am. I still have questions about where to find meaningful service and connection opportunities. But I am finding them. There are wonderful, amazing people in my life. And it feels full.

So from here, I'm not sure where I will go regarding a church community. I am finding that I am enjoying my relationship with the Savior - just between He and I. Not filtered through a church. But pure and simple. He brings me peace. I don't have all the answers. I don't know if I will ever return to the LDS Church. Right now, I have no intention to. But I do keep my options open, and my heart open to the Savior. I will try to go where He leads. For now, I will simply walk with Him and find my peace through Him directly. 

For Christmas, Kim bought me this painting. This. This is where I turn for peace. Where my soul finds stillness. 

Knitting a Soul

(Initially put to paper July 8, 2015)

I know I need to write. I just don't know that I have the words for it.

I feel deep loss. I have been depressed for the past 3 or 4 weeks. I was doing fairly well for about a month after my excommunication, but then I began to feel myself sinking into a place of hurt. Soul loss.

I am having a hard time finding connection, on a spiritual level. I am having a hard time finding meaning and balance in my life again. What once was my stability, my guide, that with which I weighed and measured my life is no longer a part of it. I know I am more than my church. But for my entire life, it was the lens through which I saw the world, found value and purpose - through the guidance, teachings and directions my membership in the church pointed me.

There are things within the church I would be happy to give up, and things I need and want to hang on to. But if you were to ask me to name what those things are, I'm not sure I could. Familiarity? Community? Tradition? Stability? I don't know how to hang onto the good, and let go of the hurtful.

I wish I could just make a clean break. Push it aside and away from me. Let it go. But I'm not ready to do that. There is something holding me here. Something I can't let go of.

I worry I will get bitter and cynical. Those things don't look or feel good on me. But I feel I could easily slip into those feelings.

My loyalty is to my Savior. I've just never had to try to experience Him separate from the LDS Church. I fear letting go of something (the Church) that might, at some future time, be what I need it to be for me again. What it once was for me. But I am also appreciating the feeling of  not worrying about or answering to an organization. Answering only to myself and my Savior. What does He want from me? What do I want from me? If I cut ties with the church on an emotional and physical level, will my relationship with my Savior suffer? Will I lose more of myself than I have already?

How do I find myself outside of the confines by which I once defined myself? How do I move to find myself without losing myself?

Less of Me

My meeting on Sunday with the Bishopric has come and gone. It went about as expected. The Bishopric sat and listened as I read them my thoughts. When I was finished, they sat quietly and considered for a good three or four minutes before asking just four questions. All regarding the Law of Chastity, Temple covenants, and my intentions going forward.

Ultimately, the decision was excommunication....My heart is broken....

While it wasn't unexpected, it is still very painful. There truly is a little less of me.

Over the past two days, while I've been distracted, I've dealt with this okay. However, today, I found myself without any distractions, and I sobbed. My broken heart sobbed. I drove up one of our beautiful canyons and sat looking out over the views while I cried and thought.

I have been excommunicated. Ripped from my community. It's extremely painful, hurtful. Removed from my community because of who I am. Who I love. Who I choose to spend my life with. I have been removed from the church because of love. 

While my relationship with and feelings about the church have changed over the past few years, it's still my home. The place I have gained so much from and given so much to. I hurt and mourn as if I've lost a loved one. Lost part of myself. Because I have.

I've been told that this doesn't change who I am. But it does change how I feel, which does/can change who I am. But I hope, ultimately, the change is for the better. That I become a better person; more compassionate, understanding, gentle, kind. More giving. More loving. More aware of others and their needs, hurts, feelings. More Christlike. Closer to my Savior simply for the sake of my relationship with Him, and not because it's expected of me to strive to become so. More focused on giving of myself to others. Not because I've been assigned to serve them, but simply and purely because I love them.

If I can become a more caring, honest, compassionate person because of this, then, perhaps it will have been worth it.

If I can come closer to my Savior because of this, then perhaps the hurt and pain can be turned into peace and joy. Hope and comfort.

"Less of me", then, could also be expressed in the lyrics of the following song:

Let me be a little kinder
Let me be a little blinder
To the faults of those about me
Let me praise a little more

Let me be when I am weary
Just a little bit more cheery
Think a little more of others
And a little less of me

Let me be a little braver
When temptation bids me waver
Let me strive a little harder
To be all that I should be

Let me be a little meeker
With the brother that is weaker
Let me think more of my neighbor
And a little less of me

Let me be when I am weary
Just a little bit more cheery
Let me serve a little better
Those that I am striving for

Let me be a little meeker
With the brother that is weaker
Think a little more of others
And a little less of me

-Glen Campbell

Disciplinary Council

The night Kim and I returned home from our honeymoon, the Bishop stopped by with a letter inviting me to a disciplinary council the following day. This wasn't unexpected. I knew it was coming. So I jotted some thoughts down to share during the council.

***

What does the hand-book say? If my situation does not fall under one of the "shall be excommunicated" situations, then please look on me with your heart. Look on my heart, soul, desires to serve my Heavenly Father and my testimony. Look on me and the person you know me to be. Consider my love for the Savior. Consider my desires to stay active and involved, and a part of this church and congregation.

I'm not asking to receive a temple recommend. But the questions asked for a recommend are not questions for church membership. Many people who cannot attend the temple are still members, some inactive with no desire to serve and be a part, some active and still serving with the desire to do so. That is my desire as well; to stay involved and serving however the Lord desires.

Perhaps you are under the assumption that gay, married individuals cannot remain members of the church, or serve in callings. But consider the Bishops in other wards and locations - they have individuals who have same sex partners and spouses who are still members, and who are serving in various callings. Because their Bishops are more concerned with the individual and the desires of their hearts to serve their Heavenly Father, then they are with interpreting policy.

Leaders of the Church are calling people to "come back", "we need you", "we want you here". But then this is what they face if they answer that call. Are they saying "we want you here, but you must not live/be your true, honest, authentic self"? Or are they saying "we want you here regardless of where you are on your path/journey"?

Those of us who want to be here, who strive to stay active and involved are being removed, punished, disciplined, while those who have left of their own accord are being left alone, or being called to come back. But at what risk?


Again, I am not asking for a Temple recommend, just to retain my membership. So I remain part of this community, able to serve, able to do family history and prepare names for the Temple.

Finally, again I just ask if the hand-book does not say my situation "shall" be excommunicated, then I ask you to look on my heart, who you know me to be, my desires to serve my Savior. And then decide if there truly is no place for me here.

***

More to follow. 

I Need Him Too

This video speaks to my heart and reflects my own feelings.

What It's Really About

Several months ago I read a couple of really insightful articles about what to do if your gay loved one invites you (a Christian with traditional values) to their wedding. These spoke to me, as I had recently announced my engagement to my partner of 11 years. And while most of my family and friends responded in loving and supportive ways, not all did. Some have some very real concerns and fears, and are torn as to what to do. They aren't sure they can support me in this decision, and therefore not sure they can attend the wedding. Because wouldn't that then mean they supported same-sex marriage?

As my wedding day is now only 2 months away, these articles came back to my mind as I thought about my family and friends who may still be struggling with their feelings and wondering how to respond.

For those individuals and anyone else who may be interested, I've linked two of those articles here.
Good article here, and here. They are both very well written and encourage readers to ask the hard questions and offer some suggestions on ways to respond.

I have many family and friends who have looked deeply and have asked some of those hard questions. I'm grateful for their openness and willingness to realize we may never know the reasons and answers to every question, but they can still love me where I am.

As an example, while attending church several weeks ago, a woman approached me and Kim and said: "I hear congratulations are in order for you two. How exciting! I'm happy for you." At church. She didn't say 1)"I feel sad about your decision", or 2) anything about how she views gay marriage. When I see her, I won't say "There's someone who supports gay marriage" cuz she never said that. I'll say "There's a friend" because nothing more needed to be said.

And then, just because it makes me giggle, I share this quote:

"Gay marriage - I am so against it because all my gay friends are out. And if they get married, it will cost me a fortune in gifts." - Joan Rivers

Christ-like Love

The past several days I have been experiencing an existential crisis. Truly. It was so convoluted that it was making me crazy. At times, I was so full of despair that I couldn't think of any way out except ending my life.

To try and make sense of it all, I sat down last night and typed three pages of thoughts. Back and forth, spiraling thoughts. Nothing felt more clear after three pages of trying to find clarity. So I just quit writing and decided the only thing I could do was to try and live in my heart. Try to let my heart sort out what my head certainly could not.

Today was better overall, but still questions. This morning the root of my real struggle occurred to me. I texted Kim: “I don’t feel unconditional love from the Lord.... I feel “I love you, but...” I feel “I want to bless you, but...”

That played in my mind and heart all day. I was amazed that after all this time, my entire life, with so many amazing experiences with the Spirit, that deep down, I still believed God’s love for me was based on my performance, my attempts at obedience, etc. In thinking about praying to Him and asking for help, in the back of my mind, I thought “He can’t/won't help you. You aren’t living the way He wants you to.”

My entire life I’ve based my worth and other’s ability to love me on how well I was living up to their expectations. If I felt any kind of disappointment from them, it would wreck me inside, and I would do all I could to fix the situation. And that idea carried over to God as well. 

So all day, I pondered on that. This morning I listened to a couple of recent conference talks. While driving around for work, I listened to Christian music on the radio. Just trying to get my heart right in order to find some kind of peace and answers. 

Later this afternoon, I watched an “I’ll Walk With You” video. In it, the mother was talking about her interactions with a lesbian woman who was in a relationship with a woman. And this mother was so concerned. She intended to talk to her and exhort her to a different path. But one day she hugged this other woman, and was immediately touched and filled with the spirit that expressed to her that the Lord loved this lesbian woman purely, perfectly and deeply. And that was all. No feelings of disappointment, or encouragement to this mother to try and change her. Just pure, deep, unconditional love.

That video touched me.

When I got home, the sun was just beginning to set, so I decided I would drive to a nice open spot to watch it. I started pulling a few weeds first from the front rock garden, and as I did I was taught. Just as the Lord absolutely, perfectly, and purely loved this lesbian woman, He loves me. All of the “I’ll Walk With You”videos that feature parents with gay children – all of them, every one that turned to Lord to know what to do, received the same message: Love them. Why? Because God loves them absolutely, and perfectly.

And He let me know, right there, pulling weeds, that He loves me the exact same way.

As I got in my car and began driving to the causeway, other thoughts came to my mind. The Lord has a purpose in all He does. And one of His purposes for me is to help teach other people, other followers of Christ specifically, how to love more deeply and more unconditionally, more Christ-like. Simply by being me, being who I am. Gay and Mormon. He loves others as much as He love me. And He wants to help them learn how to love as He does. It’s my job to Love as Christ does. To serve His children. And to give them an opportunity to turn to Christ and practice loving in return.  Its my job to love those who struggle to love me.

So when someone has a hard time with who I am, or the choices I make, that’s just all part of the process. Rather than take that to heart and make it about me, I realized today, it's just part of their journey. And to love and be so glad they have the opportunity to grow and stretch, and that I can be a part of that.

Every one of us has our own journeys. To compare mine to someone else's is not only not helpful, but just plain wrong.

It’s my job to be who I am – confidently. And to allow others their journey of learning to embrace the pure love of Christ.

So, truly and honestly, everything really will be okay. My path is my own. It is unique. It is not spelled out in church doctrine. But it is real, true, ordained of God, and mine.

I cried with joy as these realizations filled my heart. God is so good.

Dear Lord, help me remember.

Hope in Unexpected Places

This is supposed to be a happy, positive post. I hope it turns out that way. The thoughts in my  head and the feelings in my heart may not translate well into written text.

I am grateful I met E when I did. Especially in light of the events that took place in the months that followed (and that continue). Because of her, and falling for her the way I did, I gained access to a door in my life I didn't know I had access to.

This experience allowed me to open a door into an entirely new "world" that was full of hope - hope that I had lost. Without this hope, I'm not sure how I would have made it through these last several months - specifically with the hurt I have felt from places that should have brought comfort.

The life I was living was right in line with what is being asked of gay church members. But that line was not bringing me peace or comfort or hope.* Still, that is the line being given as "the way". So had I not opened this unexpected door and stepped into this other "world" which contained a measure of hope, although in an arena I did not expect, the world I would be facing would be excruciating. I honestly don't know where I would be - physically, emotionally, spiritually - knowing the path I was to take, the one I had been journeying, the one we are admonished over and over to live, was only leading me to hurt and despair. The hopelessness would have been complete. 

So even though things didn't work out with E the way I hoped they would, and the journey through that was painful, the world and options it opened up for me has been the hope I've needed to get me through pretty much emotionally intact the last couple of months. And not jut intact, but honestly much better than I have been for quite some time. That experience was the catalyst I needed to make the paradigm shift that has saved my life. In many ways.

I am extremely grateful to my Father in Heaven for helping me find and then realize it was okay for me to open that door.



* I wrote the following some time last summer but never posted it. Now as I read through it I realize this explains pretty clearly the world I was facing, and the extent to which my hope was lost. The door I found, and opened, although it will potentially have negative consequences with church opportunities and blessings, has nevertheless given me the hope I was so desperately seeking. I've included it here to hopefully give some background perspective.

I guess I'm reaching out here.

If I can't have a relationship with someone that would continue to allow me all the earthly blessings of the gospel (i.e. keeping my membership in the church, attending the Temple, etc) - if there is no hope of that - then what else is there in life for me to accomplish, live for, do?

We're taught that we are here on earth for a few reasons:
1) Get a physical body. Check.
2) Be tested and tried and work to be more like the Savior. I suppose that goes on and on, but I feel I have been tested in many ways, and have come out on top, with my testimony in tact.
3) Establish an Eternal family. Well, I am a part of one, but establishing one is not in my cards.

Am I missing anything? So I have my body. I've proven over and over that despite challenges that come my way I will remain true to my Savior. I love Him. But since #3 isn't happening, what's the point in sticking around? Why do I need to stay? Just to continue to be tested, and struggle, and hurt over what I will never have? That doesn't feel very nice.

If there was a relationship I could engage in that would be fulfilling, nurturing, committed, loving, where I was someone's "other half", AND that would allow me to keep serving in the church the way that is so important and meaningful to me, that would be great. And I would have a reason to keep hanging around earth. There would be someone with which I could share my life.

I know there any many, many people in my life who love me. Don't get me wrong. And I love them. I have a great family and incredible friends. But...but. I want to share my life with someone. And if there is no hope of that, even if I fall in love I have to push that away, then what's the point in staying? [side note: I realize now there are many reasons to keep living, but this was my frame of mind at the time, with what I believed were my only options]


I wake up in the morning. I go to work. Maybe I go biking or hiking or kayaking after work. It's great fun. Very peaceful and rewarding. Sometimes I watch my sister's kids. I teach guitar. The Lord is taking care of me and blessing me in so many ways. But in the end, not having someone, and knowing that IT CAN NEVER HAPPEN, leaves me feeling very empty. Very hollow. Very hopeless.

I hurt deeply over the fact that if I did fall in love, I couldn't embrace that relationship. How sad is that? There are no words to describe what that feels like.

Oh how much easier it would be if this mortal experience just ended now. I don't really know what else I can accomplish here other than white-knuckling it through 55 more years (genetics tells me I'll probably live to be 95). That sounds pretty awful to me, to be honest.

If there was hope of having a significant other, at least there would be something, someone to live for.

It was just a few months after writing this that I had the experience I described at the first of this post and realized, that for me, there were other options.

In the Same Boat?

My Bishop asked to meet with me the other day. I didn't want to, but I'm a good girl, so I did. I think he now may regret asking me in. :)

In the past I would have monitored how much and to what extent I shared my thoughts and feelings. Partly because they aren't always clear in my own head, but mostly to avoid making him uncomfortable or for fear of being judged by him.

Those were not a part of my thought processes this time around. Honesty feels a lot better, even if it does make some uncomfortable, or if it means being judged.

I want to be clear that I that I like my Bishop. I support him. I sustain him. 

He wanted to talk to me about two things. The first is not relevant here. The second thing, he said, was regarding my "same-gender...thing."

So we talked about that. I told him honestly, though I was doing pretty well, there are definitely issues I have had, mainly regarding how the Church has responded lately (lately, what am I saying? Pretty much always) to the marriage equality issue. 

I told him I fully support marriage equality. That I was thrilled and so happy when that came to Utah for those couple of weeks. And how I felt once it was stayed. I told him how frustrated I was that the Church feels a need to continue to make this such a difficult issue. How I support traditional marriage and the family. But not to the exclusion of all other types of unions. And that I struggle with the fact that an organization is essentially forcing others to live by their standards, though not everyone experiences life the same or holds the same beliefs. I told him how I wished the church could abide by the Article of Faith about "allowing all men the same privilege" of worshiping "how, where and what they may." And the verse in the Doctrine and Covenants about how religion nor government should influence the other in a way that limits the rights of others. How I wished the Church would follow those principles.

After discussing these things, I mentioned that I didn't know how those ideas and feelings about gay marriage would affect my Temple Recommend renewal. He said as long as I was living the standards, not acting on my feelings, bla, bla, bla, he could renew my recommend....

Well, there's the issue isn't it? So I wondered what does "acting on it" mean to him? I told him I was interested in dating. He didn't really have an answer, so went to the handbook. Of course I knew exactly what was written there. Callings can be held, full activity in the church can be enjoyed, Temple recommend can be renewed by avoiding all homosexual activity. He looked at me with an I'm-sorry-but-there-it-is-spelled-out-clearly look. Then he said, "So if you started dating, it could affect your temple worthiness status."

I told him I had been dealing with this "issue" for a little over 10 years now the way the Church has advised and recommend I do. And for the past three, at least, I've wanted to die. Some days very much so. Because despite my obedience, service, daily prayer, scripture study, and Temple attendance, the peace those things should offer was extremely short lived if there at all. The idea of continuing that for another 40 + years was more than I could bear. So I made the decision to date. And my heart has been at peace.

I mentioned it feels like there is a double standard in the church. Straight people can date. They can hold hands, kiss, etc. With zero consequences. In fact, it is encouraged. And yet, I am asked to not even consider it. Hold hands? Nope. Certainly not kiss. "Avoid any homosexual activity." Absolute double standard.

Then he made a ridiculous comment. There is another single woman in my ward, about my age, straight, who wants to start dating again. He said she and I were in the same boat. Single. Wanting to date. I'm sure the incredulous look on my face made him realize what a stupid comment that was. I said, no, we aren't in the same boat. Not remotely. Because she is encouraged to date. People are happy to see her date. I'm being utterly discouraged to date. Avoid it totally. So, no. We aren't in the same boat. We aren't even on the same ocean.

In his attempt to be helpful, he reminded me how short life really was. And that the best course of action was to continue to pray, read my scriptures, serve, attend church. And everything would be worked out in the next life. I didn't even have the words to express how unhelpful that counsel was. So all I could say was the choice I am faced with is an impossible one to make for someone who loves the gospel. Choose to remain totally  obedient to the policies set out in the church currently, and live the rest of my life alone, and quite possibly miserable, or chose to embrace my need for companionship, and lose so much of what the gospel is in my life.

Again, his only advice was a reminder of how short life is. And that the Lord would work everything out in the end.

Huh. Well, thanks for the chat.

At least he now knows exactly where I am and where I stand. But...he doesn't get it.

Finding Balance

I've been pondering this post ever since the December 20th ruling striking down Utah's 3rd Amendment and the not surprising strong feelings this created on both sides. It actually hurts me a little to even write that - "both sides". Because I see it so differently.

The stay that was subsequently granted on this ruling, while not unexpected, frustrated me and had the effect of emotionally placing me back in the ranks of second-class citizen.

A very dear friend of mine, aware of those feelings, sent me a message expressing her concern for me as well as her own divided feelings regarding this issue. She expressed thoughts, concerns and uncertainties that I have heard many times. Since these things have been on my mind anyway, I've decided to use her questions and concerns as the basis of this post.

These are just my feelings and opinions as I've come to see, feel and believe them.

I've edited and changed a few things, but essentially this is the message my friend sent me:

I'm so sorry about how you're feeling about all that's going on. I myself feel torn!

How do I support my loved ones and be true to my beliefs and the sacredness of my own marriage?

If this law is overturned it affects so many other things in my mind, mainly the covenant we made to keep the law of chastity (to have no sexual relations except with those to whom you are legally and lawfully wedded). This statement technically gives the ok to same sex couples who are legally married, doesn't it? Then who's to say that same sex unions won't ultimately demand to be allowed to be married in the temple? I know that seems extreme but so did all of this 20 years ago.

I'm sorry to write this but I love you and this hurts me too in many ways. Where is the balance in it all? The balance that gives love and respect to all!

Please understand I never want you to feel "less than" in any way!! Please know how much I love you!

So, really, there are two main questions here: 1) How do I support my loved ones and be true to my beliefs and the sacredness of my own marriage, and 2) Who's to say that same-sex unions won't ultimately demand to be allowed to be married in the temple. 

The first question actually confuses me. I honestly don't see how allowing a group of people their civil rights has any effect or bearing at all on the sacredness of any other couple's marriage. The sacredness of a marriage has nothing to do with the laws of the land or the rights of others. That is absolutely and 100% up to the individual couple.

I'm not sure exactly how to say this. So I'll just say it. Just because a person or group has very strong and sacred beliefs does not mean laws should be enacted forcing others, who experience and view life differently, to be held to or limited by those beliefs. The idea that a religion is essentially forcing others to live their standards is actually revolting to me. Regardless of how much I love that religion.

The sacredness of traditional marriage is not affected, weakened, or minimized by allowing same-sex couples to marry. Only those within those marriages can affect that. So, please, please, maintain the sacredness of your marriage. Keep it strong, God-centered, holy and Celestial. Defend it. Fight for it. Strengthen it. Then remember that I would like that same opportunity within my own committed relationship.

Remember Article of Faith #11: We claim the privilege of worshiping Almighty God according to the dictates of our own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege, let them worship how, where, or what they may.

The second question: If same-sex marriage is made legal, then who's to say that same-sex unions won't ultimately demand to be allowed to be married in the temple?

I don't have a good answer to that question. Maybe someone else does, but here are my thoughts. A religion has every right to set their own standards, guidelines, rules, etc.  If a same-sex couple did demand to be married in the Temple, I expect the Church would have it's standards set and secure enough to address that issue.

But...but... Let's just say that did happen, and same-sex couples demanded and were than allowed to be married in the Temple. Would that, ultimately, negate the covenants you have made? Would it change your relationship to your spouse and to God? Would it affect the sealing nature and feelings of your Temple ceremony? I hope not.

Ultimately, I believe that a person can support traditional marriage. Defend it. Uphold it. Stay true to their beliefs, AND at the same time realize that many, many people experience life differently and should not be forced to abide by those same beliefs and standards. Nor should they be denied the rights, privileges, and responsibilities afforded to any other citizen.

I know this is a difficult issue for many people. Feelings are strong and run deep. But a person CAN support their gay loved ones and still stay true to their beliefs. Love and respect can be given to all. And I think it comes from living your beliefs and having enough love and respect to allow others to do the same.

No More Goodbyes

Today I finished reading "No More Goodbyes" by Carol Lynn Pearson. Since I first opened this book and began reading, I've been filled with so many thoughts, feelings, impressions, emotions. Most of which I will probably never have adequate words to be able to express.

I'm touched. Saddened. Filled with hope. Filled with hurt. I marvel at the goodness of so many, and equally at the level of rejection by others.

I have some loved ones who I desperately want to read this book, with a hope that their understanding of me, and others will increase. That they will be able to see the decisions I make, and look on them with compassion, love and understanding, rather than with hurt, heartbreak and judgement. 

For the past two months I've been sitting with and letting sink in a decision I made about the path and direction of my life. So much of this book put into words a great deal of what I have felt and experienced. There is one quote, one thought expressed towards the end that I think summarizes my own life and experiences very well. It summarizes what I have come to realize for myself.

I knew that my purpose for being on this earth was not to be shut down emotionally, physically, and spiritually as I had been, but to be fully present and fully giving and loving in a committed relationship.

My emotions have been very close to the surface lately as I've tried to internalize these and so many other things. I am generally  not a very deep thinker, and these past couple of months have worn me out. I'm ready to move on, and just get on with my life. I don't know what that really looks like. But really, who does? I do know that I have a deep need and longing for connection. Emotional, spiritual, physical connection.

So I open that door and then move forward with my life the best way I know how. 

I'm Okay. Really.

The last couple of posts, especially the most recent one, maybe made it sound like I was really, really struggling. That's not entirely true. I shared that last post, I guess, as an example of how difficult this issue of living as a gay Mormon can be.

This is a complex issue. And any decisions that are made, are made within the realm of that complexity.

I've made some new decisions in my life recently. Those decisions bring with them a new and unknown path and journey. But that decision still feels right. Still feels like it's where I need to go. I'm just not sure where everything will fall out, and/or fall into place. That unknown  brings a sense of uncertainty. But there is also a measure of peace that I haven't really experienced before. A different kind of peace. A peace that says, even though this is a decision I never thought I'd would make, it's okay. And I'm okay.

Willing To Mourn

I recently read a blog post in which the blogger quoted the words of another gay Mormon. I want to post part of that blog, and the words he quoted here. The full post is here. And while quite long, worth the read.

"Her name is Emily Stephens. She's in her thirties and is a writer. Her coming out was accidental. She responded to a thread on a group called Mormons Building Bridges, and didn't realize it was open to all her Facebook friends to see. Her words are powerful and very direct. In asking where the post came from, she said she was very moved when a non-SSA member was perplexed at some of the harshness that has surrounded the issue of homosexuality in the recent conference. Here are Emily's quotes below:

Jann...your post's last statement is so penetrating... "...why would the church put up a website about mormons and gays and it have loving language, but the GA's talk about it with such vileness???" 

I am active LDS, served a mission, attend the temple. I love to serve in YWs! I love to pay a full tithe! And, I pray every night that Heavenly Father will be merciful and let me die. I've survived being LDS and gay for 13 years, sometimes barely. I figured it out when I was 22. The messages this weekend conveyed to me exactly what you wrote. I must acknowledge that. I'd like to ignore those talks and only think about Uchtdorf's talk, but I heard their words. My heart has felt their words. They aren't going away. They aren't even new words. It is what has been said for years. I have a testimony of the gospel. So, I don't understand why my church hates me so much. Why do they insist repeatedly that I am vile? Why am I targeted at all? Because I "love" wrong? 

 I am terrified of people in my stake finding out I am gay. Though I am more than sure they suspect. In the past, I had a loving and compassionate bishop tell me that if people found out, my calling with the youth would be in jeopardy. Just if they found out I am "gay." I have never been kissed in my entire life. Never held hands. I've loved secretly and deeply in my heart, but was taught to do so with the greatest of shame.  

It is often suggested that same-sex marriage is the root cause of the degradation of the family--how is that possible? If we are to be discussing vile at Conference, why aren't we talking about pornography, infidelity, deadbeat parents, addictions, abuse, the objectification of women, pregnancy outside of wedlock. And when we discuss those things which truly threaten the family, why aren't we doing so with compassion, asking "how can we help?" instead of the fearful, "how can I isolate my family from the world?"  

Jann, I want to praise members like you who are brave enough to ask these questions. I want to thank members who are courageous enough to see the disparity and deeply feel the pain it causes and are willing to succor people like me nonetheless. It is brothers and sisters like you that successfully place my backside in that pew every Sunday to partake of the sacrament. It is you who gives me hope, especially in a place where being willing to see us with compassion is an insurmountable task. God bless you."

I could have written much of that post. These words especially touched me:  "I am active LDS, served a mission, attend the temple. I love to serve in YWs! I love to pay a full tithe! And, I pray every night that Heavenly Father will be merciful and let me die."

I don't think I've read sadder words in my life. They bring tears to my eyes every time I read them. I could have written those words. 

I also very  much feel as Emily does about those members who are brave enough to ask the hard questions. To reach out in love even though they don't understand. I have good people like that in my life. And I am very grateful. Especially as I make choice changes that bring me more in line with what I feel is my life's path. Who cry with me because they get a sense of just how difficult this choice is and what loss it certainly will bring with it.

 

An Unexpected Answer

If you’ve been following my blog much over the last little while, you know some of the angst I’ve been feeling – more so lately in the last year or more.

And over the past week, I’ve experienced a huge shift in focus. A new and unexpected piece to the puzzle of my life.

Something this big can’t, and didn’t just happen overnight. It has been at least two years in the making.

After I turned 40, I remember lying on my bed and thinking, and crying “Is this all that there is for me? If this is what my life, for the next 40 years is going to be like, I don’t want it.” And really, I had only been dealing with these things consciously for the past 10 years. During much of that time, my life has been a roller-coaster of feelings and emotions as I persisted in the idea that the decision I made, once I realized I was gay, to live a celibate life, was the right one. When I found it wasn’t working for me, that I was spiraling downward once again, I figured I just needed to be more patient, have more faith and that it would, eventually, all make sense and get better.

But that day, lying on my bed, I was overwhelmed with the thoughts and feelings of how in the world I was going to squeeze 40 more years out like that – alone, lost, hurting so deeply, confused. I need human connection. I'm not just talking about the few close friendships I have. They are wonderful, to be sure. But they can't, simply by their nature, fill me in the deep, soul connecting ways my soul craves. The need to belong to someone, and them to me. That is what I crave. What I have always craved. What the human soul searches for. And again the idea of living my life in a way that won't allow that made me not want to live my life at all.

But since I thought I had no choice, really, if I were to have the full love and support and acceptance of the Savior that was the only choice I felt I could make. But there was also a huge unbalance there. Because I also knew He wanted me to be happy. To live my life fully. But as I lay there on my bed, I knew I wasn't doing that. And I couldn't see how to do that.

My feelings were often so low, that many times over the past several years, I just wanted to swerve the steering wheel and drive over a cliff. Or hope that some semi would smash into me.

 I would rather not be here, than be here persistently feeling this way.

 I felt this would certainly be much simpler to deal with on the other side where I didn’t have a body to contend with.

How is that happy? How is that fulfilling? Choosing a life of solitude because I know I can't express certain levels of affection was bringing me more hurt, heart-ache and pain than any peace choosing righteously should have brought me. But I continued in that choice. And really, I didn’t think I could make any other choice, because as hard as it was, I thought for sure it was the right one. The only one. And that I just needed to keep persisting in that, hoping it would get better. Thinking maybe I could find enough peace in remaining separate from the deepest human connection to make it all okay.

Again. Up and down. Over the last two years, more downs than ups. More sorrow than peace. More hurt than joy. More questions than answers. And those answers that did come were always about being patient. The Lord knows me. Trust Him.

Then recently, I had a conversation with a friend that caused me to look once more at this whole issue. I realized I was in a hopeless situation. What I want most, connection, a significant other, someone to love and belong to, could never be a part of my life with the restrictions I had placed on such a relationship. It just couldn’t happen.

And for the first time, I had a reason to really stop and ask and consider what I was doing. What I wanted. What was working and what wasn’t and why. I had to consider if what I had been choosing really was the right thing for me. Was it going to provide me that which had become abundantly clear I needed in my life – that of deep human connection? Of being truly and completely open and honest with myself?

 For the first time, two choices became very clear to me - choose to open myself up to the possibility of a relationship and be in that fully, no restrictions, no boundaries. Or choose to stay single and celibate. Because trying to do both, have a fully connected relationship, while trying to remain celibate, wasn’t working. Rather, I was feeling more hurt, sadness, loss, anxiety, confusion and fear. None of which stems from the Savior.

So, I had a long conversation with the Lord not too long ago. Well, what really happened is He sent me over three hours worth of thoughts, ideas and impressions, with me asking a question here and there. I learned a lot of things that night, most of which I won't share, because they feel too personal to me. But what I did come away with, that I can and need to share is that the Lord knows how much I desire human connection. He also knows I am gay, that I always have been, that it wasn't something I chose, so I can't choose any course of action to reverse that. He knows I love Him. That I crave and seek His peace. And I haven't been very good at feeling that to the level I once did. He knows my heart. He knows my soul. He knows it better than I do. So while it wasn't unexpected to receive an answer from Him, the answer I did receive was unexpected.

I'm still sitting with it. Considering it and all that it entails. If I hadn't experienced it for myself, in addition to other confirming experiences, I wouldn't have believed it - not for me anyway. I could believe this answer for someone else, but not for me. And yet, here it was.

If I want to have a meaningful relationship in my life, and if the opportunity comes into my life, my choice now is to pursue that, and all that it entails. By doing so does not mean I have lost my testimony. It does not mean I love the Lord any less. On the contrary, I feel like I can more fully and honestly serve Him by living my full, complete self. Not just spiritually, but emotionally and physically.

This is a huge shift for me, so I've continued sitting with these thoughts and feelings. Recognizing and preparing for the inevitable loss that will most likely come with this decision. I will move on and forward with my life as I have always done. But now with a different focus to any potential and future relationships. The hope of having such a relationship has been opened up to me with the removal of the boundaries that would have kept something like that away.

And, as a friend of mine recently said: “There can be really tough things with which we are dealing or troubles we are going through, but when we know God has our back, there is an element of peace knowing we are in His hands and following a path He has endorsed for us.”

How much more true that feels when we realize the path he has endorsed for us is not what we thought it was all along.

A Private Conversation Inside My Head

I'm inviting you in. Please tread lightly.

Here's the thing - I will never be attracted to guys. I've tried. I really have. It's just not there. I didn't come wired that way. Therefore, I could never have a truly fulfilling, meaningful relationship with one. Not the way a soul craves.

So, I guess, ultimately I have two choices regarding future relationships with women:

Do I want a companion? For life? Do I want that ultimate connection that can exist between two people? Emotional, spiritual, physical, soulful? If so, I need to be able to go all in.

If I can't go all in, then I need to be okay with being single. Because asking someone I care the world about to keep up boundaries on what can and can't happen is just not fair.  I know this from painful experience. If there are boundaries on affection it is extremely damaging to the relationship, damaging to the other person, and frankly, can't last.  

Either choice will mean sacrificing something deeply important to me. Neither choice comes without heartache, pain, loss. But this choice I must make. It's the choice that all gay and lesbian members of the church must make. There is no good answer. 

Arguments for the first choice are generally reinforced with thoughts of the ultimate human connection and experience. 

Arguments for the second choice are generally reinforced with thoughts of eternity, and covenants. 

However, both arguments will and do ultimately rely on the atonement of Jesus Christ. And least in that there is some hope and comfort.

Oh to be straight and not be faced with questions like this. 

Why I Stay

I've had a ... thing. A thought. Mulling around in the back of my mind for quite a while now. I wasn't really aware it was there, but when it finally found actual words, ideas, I realized it had been there a while.

Especially the last week or so, it has come more clearly to the forefront of my mind. It was framed as a question. Not only by outside influences, but by my own inner-self.

Why do I stay? A part of and actively participating in the church?

As I've tried to answer that question, not just for others, but ultimately for myself, sometimes, most times, I couldn't think of a really compelling reason. Other than it feels like where I belong. Well, just in the last few days, I feel like I may have my compelling reason.

I am just as gay...actually maybe more so (is that possible?) than I've ever been, but...

I stay because:

1) Things need to change in people's hearts. That change cannot come by forces pushing against members of the church. It has to, is most effective when, it comes from the inside. If, as a 40-year, faithful member of the church, I leave, my potential influence for some kind of good is mostly lost. I would then be living only for myself. I must be too generous of a person to let that be okay. So I stay to help change hearts.

2) I deeply, truly, honestly love the Lord with all that I am. I feel like He wants me to stay. Even as imperfect, and sometimes extremely hurtful, and soul-wrenchingly difficult things within the church can sometimes be, He wants me to stay. Maybe its because of what I wrote above. I don't know. But I love the Lord. So I stay.

I don't know where my life will take me. I don't know that I will always be an "upstanding member" of the church. Because of my feelings about marriage equality, I may one day lose my Temple Recommend. I don't know the future.

But I do know that right now I'm staying. I'm here. And I'm happy.

How Many Times?

It happens pretty  much without fail. Every time I hit a new low, like is demonstrated in the previous post, I reach out in some way to the Lord. I write out my frustrations. I pray very honestly. And every time I reach out to Him, I find He is there reaching back. And once again I feel the reassurance, hope and love of His spirit envelope me like a blanket. And everything is okay again.

I love this song by Plumb. I've prayed these words many times in my life.

The Breaking Point

Most of my week is spent living at my place of employment. There is a house there in which I live, and have made quite cozy. But on my days off, I return to my real home which I share with my roommate and her three grown children.

Most weekends when I get home, there are messes to clean up. Sometimes not, if my roomie has been cleaning up messes that aren't hers. But sometimes she's too busy or too tired to clean things up.

Tonight I returned home late from work. The house was empty. Roomie is at a conference, and the grown children, I presume, are with their dad. And (not surprising) there were messes to clean up. Nearly ever cup in the house was dirty and sitting on the counter. Cereal, cookies, popcorn and popcorn bag, plates, bowls, utensils. Kitty litter that needed to be emptied. A garbage that was full and stinking.

Some nights I can deal with all of this, and brush it off. Not tonight. I began to feel very frustrated and angry. Granted, I was already a bit stressed over some financial issues, that are slowly working themselves out, but have weakened my emotional resolve. So the frustration began to boil.

As I cleaned this, that, and the next thing, I felt myself getting grumpier and more and more frustrated, and tired of the constant maid-service I perform for adult children. Angrier at the fact that not much has changed in the past 9 1/2 years that we have all lived together despite constant and consistent requests that they clean up after themselves. Okay, I do have to admit that in some areas things have gotten better. One of the children, anyway, does a pretty good job of cleaning things up. But at this point, I wasn't offering much praise.

And then I remember that this weekend is Stake Conference. And sometimes hurtful, judgmental, critical things are said about homosexuality. Or even just very obvious statements about what is ordained of God. What the path is that one must take. And my already frustrated feelings brought the realization that if something like that is said tomorrow, I would break and quit attending church.

I've said many times in my life that I can't imagine anything that could pull me away from the church, or shake my testimony. And suddenly I find myself in a place, a situation in which I could absolutely see that happening. Its been building over time. And I finally feel like I'm at my breaking point.

This wasn't about my love and faith in the Savior and His atonement. That remains intact. Just the church and the all too often hurtful things said by its leaders. I've thought about leaving before, mostly in passing. But then I think about all I would lose, and the people who would hurt over it. That is usually enough for me to refocus.

Not tonight. As I thought of those things and those people, I absolutely did not care. My response to any questions about my departure would involve the time after time of hurtful, critical and judgmental things said about homosexuality, and that I finally just broke.

I was feeling so angry, all I could think of were negatives. The Church is and does so much good in so many ways. I just couldn't see any of that, or maybe I didn't care to look for it.

I guess I was a little afraid and concerned about the intensity of these feelings, because I knelt down and just began letting it out all in a very frustrated, honest and tearful prayer. As I did so, I had some thoughts and ideas on things that I might try to help get me back to a positive, optimistic place. Things I had been neglecting. Things that are important to me. And I committed to including those things in my life again on a regular basis. To give it an honest effort to regain my balance, hope, peace, patience and understanding.

That helped me calm down and feel a little better. 

Now I just hope tomorrow's Stake Conference is a positive one. Because I'm still not sure how well I can handle criticism and judgmental, hurtful, unhelpful comments. 

Still Here

Yes. I'm still here.

This blog has been on my mind a lot lately, though I haven't had a lot I've needed to add. So it continues to sit un-updated.

But recently, I read another blog post that really spoke to me and touched me. So I thought I would link it here. I highly, strongly, really, really encourage you to go read it.

The Montgomery's have a son who recently came out to them. They are amazing parents and have been very open and  honest in the way they've struggled and learned to deal with this very complex issue.

Just in case you decide you just don't want to click on that link above, let me quote part of it.

"The [LDS] Church is acknowledging that the answers to homosexuality are far more complex than any of the answers they have provided in the past. Twice [on the website www.mormonsandgays.org] homosexuality is referred to as complex. For those who are living this reality, this probably seems like an understatement. But for members on the outside with no experience with such matters and no personal relationships with someone who is gay it seems cut and dry. They have very simple, easy, primary level answers for your life. Here are many of the simplistic answers we have heard from members of the Church:

Just pray harder and it will go away. We personally had two LDS Social Services therapists and members of our local Church leadership tell us that by just increasing our faith and the sincerity of our prayers, our son’s homosexuality would go away. No amount of prayer can change God’s will for someone’s life?

Everyone is expected to live the same law of chastity. If by living the same law you mean comparing being chaste before marriage to never being able to express any sexual desire for the entirety of your life, then no. The law of Chastity has completely different implications for the lives of LGBT individuals. This law is definitely not equal in its application.

Living celibate is no different than single members who never marry. No. One is living with hope and the ability to express and receive love even if it never matures to a marriage. The other is the suppression of every sexual desire and being taught that such desires are wrong and of the devil.

Being gay is just another temptation in life like a disposition to alcohol, drugs or violence. This was actually taught in at a stake youth event by our local Church leaders. This line of thinking begins with the assumption of deviancy in LGBT people. Another local Church leader counseled us that my 13 year old gay son should not share a room with his 7 year old brother, because heaven forbid what he might do to him. Being different does not make you inherently evil.

Being gay is only a condition of this life. You were not gay before and will be fixed in the afterlife. I am not sure if there is a more destructive theology. It teaches that you are fundamentally broken and cannot be fixed until the afterlife. Yet in all other respects, who we are and the character we develop and the intelligence we gain in this life all proceed with us to the next life. Except being gay. At best this is a flawed philosophy with no scriptural or moral basis."

Now, again, for the full story, please go read the blog post. 

Conference Weekend

Let me preface this by saying I have not lost, nor am I losing my testimony. I'm just frustrated.

I am writing this to shed some light on why some of what was said during conference this weekend was hard, and hurtful. Even though same-sex attraction and the issues surrounding that weren't spoken about outright, it was alluded to several times.

The weekend started out rough. I blurbed a little about it on facebook, but because I hadn't seen any of the Saturday sessions, I couldn't speak fully to what was said. But that little fb posting got a lot of attention. Many people messaged me personally, seeking to reassure me that all would be well, that I am a good person, and that God loves me. I really do appreciate that support, although those are things I never doubted.

I also got some great feedback from folks seeking to give comfort with the whole marriage thing - I guess based on my comment, they assumed I wish I could be married, to a man? I don't know. But marriage in and of itself is also not an issue for me. I support marriage and the family. I know I will never marry a man. And I am so okay with that. I will probably also never marry a woman. And I am okay with that as well. But here is what does bother me. Statements that say or imply things like, sexual intimacy is the supreme and ultimate connection in a marriage. It is the most wonderful blessing in a relationship. But sorry. It's only for straight people. If you are gay, and happen to fall in love, too bad for you. Just push those feelings away and stay single and celibate (and miserable). Or try harder to root out the natural man, in this case, your gay- ness. Because the only appropriate relationship is that between a man and a woman. Anything else is an abomination. Which means the way you feel and experience love is an abomination. That's what's hard. (Sorry, I know that is a little cynical, which doesn't suit me. But I do feel that way sometimes.)

Now, if you are still of the mind-set that what gay people are asked to do, in remaining celebate, is no different than what straight single people are asked to do, let me know. I will try and explain how and why those two situations are very, very different.

So when someone stands at the pulpit and expounds on the wonders and blessings found within the bonds of marriage, and that the only appropriate way to experience those blessings is with a spouse of the opposite sex, it truly feels like a slap in the face. To quote from my facebook thread: "What Wendy (and I and many others) is being asked to do is to eschew the very thing everyone else is being encouraged to seek out, because it is one of the greatest gifts The Lord has given us. She deserves more respect and admiration than one can imagine. Because many of us, myself included, can't do it anymore. Especially in light of the demonizing of what we feel." 

Yes, what we feel has been demonized by oh so many. And then we hear over and over and over again that what we experience and the needs and longings we have are not right, and will never qualify for blessings here and now that so many others experience. That is frustrating. That is hard. And it causes me to sometimes rant a little.

Now, lest you think my entire weekend was full of bitterness and hurt, it was not. Or if you worry that I am totally without hope, I am not. Here is what I gained from the Sunday talks:

* Hold fast to the hope that is in God. Walk towards the hope of a brighter life. God's light is real. It can heal the deepest wounds, enlighten the deepest valleys of sorrow. It takes an act of faith to open our eyes to the hope of God's light. Darkness exists, but light exists also. Choose to walk in the light.

Hold to the ground you have won. Stand strong until additional knowledge comes. This is a divine work in progress. Be kind regarding human frailty. Fan the flames of your faith whatever doubts and questions you have.*

So I ask myself. Why do I stay? Even when there continues to be so much hurt with this issue steming from individulas who should be supportive, welcoming, sensative, and compassionate? I stay because some do show that sensative compassion.  And I stay, because I know those things I wrote above are true. Because the gospel of Jesus Christ is bigger than any individual. And my relationship with my Heavenly Father and the Savior are extremely and intimitatly personal. I stay, and I love and I continue to find hope, and seek to walk by faith because that is what my Savior wants me to do.

And in the end, that is all any of us can do. Live our lives the best we can according to our own, individual relationship with the Savior.