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. 

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.

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.

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.

Survivors Guilt

Or something like that. In order to address this post topic, I have to back up a ways. Sorry for the round-about way to get to where I want to take you.

I have never questioned my faith. I have never questioned the counsel and policies of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I have never questioned my testimony. I have always been strong and steady. My faith has always been rooted in Christ. I have always enjoyed attending church and mingling my faith with those around me.

So why, a few months ago, did all of that begin to feel shaky, uncertain, and uprooted? Why did attending church become a chore that left me feeling worse than ever? Why did I feel lost, forgotten, not understood? Why did I find it so, so hard to feel the comfort of the Holy Ghost? Why did I suddenly feel that as a gay Latter-Day Saint, I was less than, left out, on the outskirts, alone? Why did my burden suddenly feel so much greater than it ever had before? And why could I not find reconciliation with any of that as I always had before?

I searched my mind and my heart for answers.

What came to me were simple things that only made a small, and temporary difference: focus on my blessings, what I have, rather than what I feel I lack; remember the answers I have received; work on trusting and having faith in the Savior again; etc.

I thought often about how much simpler this would be to deal with on the "other side", and silently hoped for some tragic accident to take me there.

Thankfully I'm still here.

Because tiny miracles have begun to happen in my life.

I outed myself on facebook. A blessing in and of itself. Suddenly, I became known more fully and more completely by people who thought they already knew me. Because of that, I began to feel seen again in nearly every circle of my life, and I began to notice the care and love others feel and felt for me. And slowly, my comfort level in church began to grow again.

With that, other shaky areas of my life (spiritual and otherwise) began to stabilize again. Like that tattered cloth I blogged about a while ago.

Elder Bednar, of the Quorum of Twelve Apostles, came to our Stake Conference and shared simple but powerful messages, and bore a powerful testimony. And I recognized that I felt the spirit in a way I hadn't for far too long.

Sometime around then a simple, not fully developed thought, or impression came to me. There aren't really even words to express it, but the message it brought was something like: "You've been resisting the spirit, joy and hope from your own life, so that you too could struggle in ways others with this issue struggle; so it wouldn't seem so simple and straightforward to deal with this very complex and difficult issue of begin gay and Mormon."

In other words, if I'm too hopeful and too full of the spirit then how can it really be that hard?

That idea shocked me, but also felt absolutely correct.

I am gay. I am emotionally and physically attracted to women. No doubt about that. But my attractions aren't really sexual in nature.When I notice an attraction to someone, it is all purely physical (appearance), or emotional. My desires for connection with someone are about emotional connection, deep sharing, companionship, mental, physical, and emotional closeness. But rarely have those connection desires been sexual.

So because I have no libido, keeping the Law of Chastity (no sexual relations outside of marriage, and that as defined between a man and a woman) has been quite simple for me. Even while in a 7 + year relationship with someone, we were celibate. And as it turns out, that was much easier for me to maintain than it was for her.

So several months ago, when a dear friend of mine was excommunicated for engaging in a sexual relationship with her girlfriend, after striving for over a decade to maintain her standard of chastity, my eyes were opened to the depth of this struggle for the majority of gay Mormons. What is relatively simple for me to maintain, can be excruciatingly difficult for so many others who love the Lord and His gospel, but are absolutely and fully attracted to the same gender in every possible way. And while being gay isn't just about sex any more than being straight is, for the majority of the world, sexual connection is a deep and meaningful means of connection and sharing.When my eyes were fully opened to that dilemma, my heart shut. And my struggle increased.

Subconsciously, I resisted being fully supported by the spirit and having absolute faith in the Gospel and Savior, in living my life with peace, hope and faith, because I did not want others to look at me and use me as an example of how other gay Mormons could and should live their lives. This is the realization I received. I felt guilty that my attractions were such that living the Law of Chastity was a non-issue for me, and therefor, I was able to fully participate in every aspect of the Church and the Gospel while so many others struggled deeply and painfully with that.

The idea of being an example of hope and faithful endurance when my struggle is significantly different, was enough to drive a wedge between me and my faith. I (subconsciously) needed to struggle and feel the depth of pain that others feel with this complicated and contradicting issue. And I did. And my heart broke. And my faith waned. And I felt anger at those who could not see the intense struggle this issue presents. And this anger destabilized me. Hence, the answer to the third paragraph above.

That anger and resistance continued for several months. 

After that first eye-opening impression came to me, I just let it mull around in the back of my mind, weighing it for accuracy. I might have forgotten about it, except it came again just a few days ago: "You've been resisting the spirit, joy and hope from your own life, so that you too could struggle in ways others with this issue struggle; so it wouldn't seem so simple and straightforward to deal with this very complex and difficult issue of begin gay and Mormon." But this time a little bit more was added: "You  have resisted the hope and goodness that fills your life, you have resisted being a source of light and faith, of being the woman of God that you are because you didn't want to make light of this very real struggle. But its time now to turn that around. It's time to bring that light and hope back into your life."

And so I'm trying. But I do it hesitantly because the fear and the guilt are still there that my path in dealing with this issue is made easier by my lack of sexual attraction. I loath the idea that someone will compare me and my "success" in staying true to gospel standards, with someone else who is struggling deeply to do the same thing.

Please don't use me as an example.

Unless it is an example that even though there is still heartache and hurt and questions, I can choose to let that rule my life as I have done, or I can put those things into the hands of the Savior and instead fill my life with hope, faith, beauty, joy and light. And knowing even when I do that, the heartache and struggle in life probably won't change, but I can still put my faith in the Savior that everything really will work out and I can focus on the good in life.

Or if it's as an example of the truth that every individual is unique and different, and they can, by following the spirit to the best of their ability, find the path and the life that is right for them, however different it may be to the one I am living.

And that's the message.

Great Ward

I have a pretty great ward.

For those of you in my ward (and stake) who read this...Thank You!

Thank you for loving me just the way I am. Thank you for trying to understand. Thanks for staying my friend and for not running away screaming. Or even running away silently. That means the world to me.

You have no idea how your friendship has helped me these last several months.

Roses of Life

In my front yard I have a few rose bushes. When I first moved into my house, I thought they were pretty ugly and ratty. Then they bloomed. And the one that I thought looked the ugliest and rattiest, actually produced roses that were the most wonderful smelling things I had ever experienced.

I would stop by that rose bush every day on my way to and from my house. And with that, I adopted the idea of stopping to smell the roses of life. Not just the physical roses, but those things in life that bring peace, comfort, happiness, stillness, feelings of goodness, etc. It's amazing to recognize that there really is something to celebrate in every day.

Every day may not be good, but there's something good in every day.   ~Author Unknown

After too long a time not noticing those roses, it's time once again to celebrate all that life has to offer. 

Too many of my posts lately have focused on something less than positive. And that attitude does not look good on me. It doesn't feel good, either.  And it isn't accurate. While it's true I've had some difficult times in the past several months, I've also had many wonderful times. It is time I start focusing on that once again.

Learn to smile at every situation.  See it as an opportunity to prove your strength and ability.  ~Joe Brown

Sometimes fear overcomes us, overcomes me. And when I let that fear take over, it is very difficult to find hope or peace or sunshine. One can't be happy all the time, but it's one thing to experience a passing gloominess, and another thing to let it rule your life. 

Let your inner sunshine overcome the passing haze of discontent.   ~Dodinsky

I'm deciding now to pay attention to the roses of life, to change my attitude, to look toward the sunshine, to let go of hurt and confusion, and trust in the goodness of life.

Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not.  ~ Doctrine and Covenants 6:36

Be Still

One of my all-time favorite hymns. 

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change, He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: thy God doth undertake
To guide the future, as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
His voice Who ruled them while He dwelt below.

Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart,
And all is darkened in the vale of tears,
Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe thy sorrow and thy fears.
Be still, my soul: thy Jesus can repay
From His own fullness all He takes away.

Be still, my soul: the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord.
When disappointment, grief and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

Be still, my soul: begin the song of praise
On earth, believing, to Thy Lord on high;
Acknowledge Him in all thy words and ways,
So shall He view thee with a well pleased eye.
Be still, my soul: the Sun of life divine
Through passing clouds shall but more brightly shine.

Tattered Cloth

I didn't realize it until very recently, this morning actually, how fragile and tattered my heart, soul and spirit had become. I don't really think of myself as a fragile person, but after attending the Temple this morning, and spending a lot of time in the Celestial Room, I was surprised to feel my soul and spirit gingerly, tentatively knitting itself back together. It was then that I realized how fragile I had become.

Over the last several weeks, many things have happened that have been pulling, stretching, tearing, fraying, cutting, thinning, twisting and otherwise wearing away at my heart, soul and spirit. As I began to experience the process of healing, I pictured myself as an old, worn and very fragile piece of cloth in which historians and curators, wearing gloves in temperature, humidity, and light controlled rooms carefully and gently attempt to restore it. Where there is an exciting vision of what it might once again become, but also very cautious of moving too quickly so as to avoid causing the tattered cloth to fall apart completely. Therefore great care, caution and patience must be taken.

As I walked from the Temple, that's how I felt. Surprised at how worn my soul had become, grateful that it had begun a healing, restorative process, but knowing full well there is still much to do before my soul, heart and spirit are fully made whole. So I remain hesitant, cautious, guarded. But optimistic, looking forward to more days spent in the Savior's healing embrace.